None of the characters in Tom Holloway’s Beyond The Neck have names. This may seem like an odd choice for a play about the aftershocks of the 1996 Port Arthur massacre, given recent efforts in the USA to publicize the names of mass shooting victims, but not the perpetrators. A play about a subject that epitomizes ‘personal meets political’ makes a decision that could easily alienate us from its characters. Theatre Works’ production (directed by Suzanne Chaundy) feeds into this alienation with a bare set of four chairs and a painting of Port Arthur, and actors who seem aware that they are telling a story, speaking out to us more than each other. It’s a little Brechtian, quite funny in some parts and very dark in others.
And yet, the connection was palpable, the audience always laughing, sighing and silent when intended. The Old Man (Francis Greenslade), The Young Mother (Emmaline Carroll Southwell), The Boy (Freddy Colyer) and The Teenager (Cassidy Dun) have such specific backstories and distinct voices, but they also become archetypes of the people who were there when the shooting happened, and who are in the audience now. Some of the characters don’t have direct connections to the massacre but simply being at the site forces them to confront other traumas that have plagued their lives. This is despite the strange façade that the first half of the play is built around: a tour of Port Arthur in which the massacre is never mentioned. When that façade breaks down and our characters are plunged to their lowest points, it is truly heartbreaking.
With the sparse and static staging, this iteration of Beyond The Neck lives and dies on the strength of its actors, and they more than pull their weight. Putting the focus on them was a very smart directorial decision because their work as an ensemble is meticulous and enrapturing. Four characters telling four stories at once could be confusing in the wrong hands, but there’s an almost magical direction of the audience’s attention in every actor’s use of gesture and voice. We always know whose story we’re in and what their character is like, and when the fourth wall goes up and the characters start interacting with each other properly and being honest about their stories, it feels well earned. The Young Mother did get somewhat lost in the shuffle, but I think that has more to do with the pacing of the writing than this specific production – it would have been nice to have more time given to her response to grief. Ultimately, the cast’s chemistry perfectly suited a play about the intermingling of personal and group trauma.
It’s sobering to think that in the wake of the Bondi shooting, Beyond The Neck may be more relevant now than Holloway ever envisioned when he wrote the play in 2008. But what has also stayed relevant is the sense of community and love that the play ends with. In a way, good theatre is an embodiment of that experience, and this provocative production created an intensely beautiful atmosphere. It’s a reminder that no matter what we face – death, grief, nightmares, abuse, isolation – we are never truly alone, and there is life on the other side.
To book tickets to Beyond The Neck, please visit https://www.theatreworks.org.au/2026/beyond-the-neck.
