27/10/02 "Theatre in the New Millennium"

I am often, as a Drama teacher, asked what the point of theatre really is? And given the uneasy start to the new millennium, I find myself saying: Err, well, it's a form of expression that's a hell of a lot better than bombs and guns.

Watching young practitioners nut out the complexities of bullying in Tuggeranong Community Arts' Boys' Rules or in helping my own company come to terms with the soul-destroying effects of globalisation in Damage certainly seems to be a more appropriate response to the issues than brawling or graffiti. In both instances, theatre empowered the actor and audience member as it 'entertained' their turning minds. Surely all involved and who saw these projects have evolved as thinkers and people? Theatre has asked, if not demanded that we think in squigglier lines as opposed to cementing in what we already believe to be true.

In a world where, more and more so, we are being asked to look at things in black and white, theatre wants us to think in colour. It's a looser cannon than the controlled images of television and film, and it is presented by real human beings, who haven't been digitally enhanced, meters away from where we sit. Without a remote-control.

Even the most pedestrian of theatre pieces asks us to look at the nature of conflict, relationships and other heady things - as well as to entertain. The best plays ask us to rearrange, rethink and replace the way we look at things. They entertain then empower us with a perspective on situations that is new and challenging while prodding us towards a deeper understanding of issues, albeit, issues which we'd sometimes rather not look into.

So when I heard recently of audience members walking out of theatre pieces such as Canberra Repertory's How I Learned to Drive - not due to the quality of the actual theatre, but because it has taken their thoughts, imaginations and perspectives someplace where they didn't necessarily agree with or want to comfortably be - I find that mind-numbingly sad. In life, we cannot "walk out" on the reality of September 11, Washington Snipers and Bali Massacres without at some point reflecting significantly on the cause and effects.

My point? Be uplifted by the life-affirming bounce of Shout, the community-minded carnival that is Barnum or the melancholic stir of a Les Mis melody. But complement it with the challenge of a Paula Vogel play - and stay until the end. It may not be a happy one with a rousing finale, but it more often than not, can effect your thinking in subtler, gentler, less obvious ways hours, perhaps days, sometimes months after you have lost the plot.