Here’s a genre you may not have heard of: ‘suburban gothic’. It’s considered an offshoot of American gothic horror but instead of taking place in creepy castles or Antebellum mansions, the stories are set in, well, suburbia. Rather than external threats, suburban gothic tends towards modern human horrors; small, insular communities far from main cities that encourage if not mandate conformity to a culturally imposed ideal of ‘the good life’. The worst and most absurd consequences of this lifestyle are shown off in Living The Dream: a hilarious, riveting and quintessentially Australian suburban horror play that deconstructs Victorian suburbia with scintillating nuance and insight.
James (Ryan McInerney) has just moved into Arcadia: a pristine Victorian suburb populated by colourful characters. ‘The Boys’ quickly take a shine to him, as Cluey (Ed Wallis) and Damo (Oliver Qubrusi) attempt to bond with him over cricket, drinking and complaining about their wives. James always keeps a little distance, though, especially from Rich (Julian Machin), the de facto, overly smiley leader of the posse. He also bonds with their wives, along with Alison (Dempsey Doyle), the only single woman in town and the most normal-seeming person around. They start a relationship but as the months go by, everything unravels. The neighbours cross more and more boundaries, Alison and James argue about their future, and it becomes clear that James’ past city life is more complicated than he lets on.
Every performance adds depth to stereotypes of Aussie life we’ve all seen. As the leads, McInerney and Doyle have great chemistry, and their cynical characters give much-needed grounding and perspective to a strange world. Cluey and Damo may be degenerate, alcoholic archetypes of toxic masculinity, but they’re also given moments of vulnerability. We don’t excuse their behaviour, but it’s clear that they’re extremely damaged people who, like James, are seeking to find their place in the world. Rich, on the other hand, is much more malevolent, and Machin’s portrayal of him is fantastic to watch. He reminded me a lot of Patrick Bateman, with a façade that falls into the uncanny valley between psychotic and charming.
The characters and performances of ‘the wives’ – Rachel (Bridgette Kucher) and Jill/Joyce (Crystal So) – are just as strong and important. While Kucher perfectly sells the delusion and denial of someone ensconced in a hostile environment, So’s character reaches a terrifying breaking point; even her physicality seems broken, like a marionette being jerked on its strings. It’s clear that the entire cast has given so much energy and thought to who their characters are and how they see the world, and it is an absolute delight to watch them all bounce frenetically off each other.
There are so many details in the show’s design that add to the eeriness of Arcadia, from obvious idiosyncrasies, like characters talking about a beautiful painting when all the audience sees is a blank canvas, to the subtly strange, like everyone changing clothes between scenes except for James. The music accompanying the blackout scene transitions is strange, synthy and becomes more corrupted over time, keeping the energy going and giving a real sense of how things deteriorate even when we aren’t watching. Arcadia feels like its own real yet liminal space between the authentic and the absurd.
While the performances are incredible, they have an amazing story and script to work with. Not a word is wasted, every joke hits with an undercurrent of dread and every scene ends in the most perfectly awkward spot. There’s also a clear understanding of how abuse functions in relationships and communities. While James tries to stay afloat and get Alison out of Arcadia with him, we understand exactly how the community manages to draw them back in with gaslighting, blackmail and boundary crossing. The ending epitomizes all this and leaves so many questions unanswered, but in a way that feels only appropriate. We feel just as confused and trapped as the characters are in the Hell they created.
As a horror comedy, Living The Dream knows exactly what tone it wants to strike and hits it out of the park in every respect. There is so much that it does right that it’s hard to single out any particular aspect of it – it’s a production that just…works. It’s polished, fun, thoughtful, heartbreaking and chilling, and I certainly hope it has a life beyond the Fringe festival. I’d certainly be happy to see it again.
To book tickets to Living The Dream, please visit https://www.melbournefringe.com.au/whats-on/events/living-the-dream.
Photographer: David Cui