THEATRE REVIEW: Champions

18.04.2023 at Basement Theatre

Champions is a terrifyingly real exploration of what ‘making it’ means in the art world. The idea of ‘making it’ has haunted me since I was a child. My biggest fear is not failure, but rather the feeling of ‘almost’, of ‘not quite’, of success being an arms length away. Champions is so psychologically honest that I felt as though some of the characters’ thoughts and dreams were taken out of my own mind. This performance gets inside your head and gnaws at your thoughts for days afterwards. It’s one of those shows that you don’t necessarily remember word-for-word, but you feel, moment-for-moment, afterwards.

I really enjoyed the internal monologues of each character. Teetering on slam poetry, but never crossing the line, it felt like I was truly in everyone's head. Even in the first ten minutes, I was struck by how real these characters felt. Their idiosyncrasies, childhoods, fears, wants - their behaviours were all so real. The characters never felt constructed in the sense that I could predict what they would do next. They were real because I could never predict them. I was never sure of their next move. The monologues, coupled with the naturalist acting from the cast, is what makes Champions so scarily good. You can see the flicker of emotion in Mirabai Pease’s eyes, you can feel the breath catch in Dan Goodwin’s throat. The actors were so intimate and honest with their roles that I couldn’t help but believe they were real people standing before me.

I was a bit worried about how the characters would interact through only monologues, but the way everyone deliberately talked past each other, only focussing on their internal thought process, was amazing. Conversation ended up being a game of talking past each other, everyone simply declaring their own thoughts into the space. No one listened, or perhaps, no one could listen in an environment that enforced individual success. It felt like an endless abyss of performance, of wanting to impress and be impressed - the mise-en-abyme of performativity. And these ‘conversations’ became a microcosm of the whole show: people can never connect when they are always pitched against each other. The way these arts competitions and funding bodies destroy basic human interaction; the way everything is reduced to networking and platforming and token displays of affection in order to get ahead.

“Conversation ended up being a game of talking past each other, everyone simply declaring their own thoughts into the space. No one listened, or perhaps, no one could listen in an environment that enforced individual success”

A special mention to the structure and narrative of this work - I was engaged from the opening to the ending and thought the conclusion was fantastic. I didn’t know how this performance could ever end, but writer, Isabella McDermott created such a structurally satisfying ending, I couldn’t imagine it any other way. The pacing was strong and all the moments of revelation were perfectly planned. Surprises were earned and catharsis was never overplayed.

The nuance of the lighting really made the show for me. The slow dimming of lights to make you shift in your seat, the imperceptible change in colour to make you wonder whether you are going insane. The consideration of angle, shadow, and light was beyond what I expected. A stand out moment was the dinner scene: At the patron’s house for a welcome dinner, the characters all notice the redness of the walls and decor, commenting on it liberally. But every couple of seconds, the red grew darker and stronger, the lighting operator so graceful with their movements, I was completely unaware of what was happening. I just had a feeling of dread and I didn’t know why. Only when the characters were shrouded in a terrifying, crimson glow did I realize. Red flooded over the stage until - click - one character went to the bathroom and turned on the light. The rhythm and sharpness of the lighting was outstanding. There was never a missed cue and it added another dimension of anxiety to the performance.

The music was also sublime. The Oneohtrix Point Never-esque pulsing beat created an ongoing sense of tension and suspense. The atmosphere was always building towards something, and I was always on the edge of my seat. I particularly loved the way the low drone soundtrack captured a feeling of yearning and desperation, the heartbeat rhythms reminiscent of The Safdie brother’s Good Time soundtrack. There was something primal in the music, something that made me fearful and almost animalistic. Champions uses all layers of production to tap into these secret thoughts, fears, wants, aggressions that terrify us all.

“The nuance of the lighting…[and] the music was sublime”

Champions made me wonder what I was capable of doing in order to get ahead. I always thought I would never do despicable things for success. But now I’m not so sure. The impact of Champions, though, comes from its nuance. This isn’t a performance about greed and ambition. This is a performance about a system that thrives on greed and ambition. Champions deconstructs the art world from within, investigating the ways this industry, unconsciously, needs violence and aggression and a disregard of humanness in order to survive.

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Check out more about Champions here!

Director: Harriett Maire
Playwright: Isabella McDermott
Producer: Tate Fountain
Lighting Designer: Michael Goodwin
Music & Sound Designer: Lachie Oliver-Kerby
Stage Manager: Hannah Brown
Cast: Bronwyn Ensor, Dan Goodwin, Mirabai Pease, Alex Walker

“Conversation ended up being a game of talking past each other, everyone simply declaring their own thoughts into the space. No one listened, or perhaps, no one could listen in an environment that enforced individual success”

“The nuance of the lighting…[and] the music was sublime”

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