Review: LETTERS TO LINDY Fascinates in Tell-All on Australia at Seymour Centre

You could be guaranteed, no matter where you went or who you were with that at the time her disappearance went public, the circumstances around the death of baby Azaria Chamberlain was the topic of every conversation in Australia. Opinions polarised around the involvement of her mother, Lindy Chamberlain whom some believed to be the fame-hungry, cold-hearted murderer, others the victim of a tragic freak accident involving a dingo and the phrase that became famous the world over. Either way, scrutiny upon Lindy, who was given a life sentence before being released four years later upon the discovery of further evidence. Whilst living between nationwide roles of villain and victim, Lindy received upwards of 20,000 letters. Many years later, with Lindy remarried and living in America, Australian playwright Alana Valentine was granted the ability to write a play based on this mass of correspondence and Lindy's experience. Letters to Lindy is a remarkable, surprising and touching reflection not so much on Lindy Chamberlain-Creighton herself, but on the impassioned public who one way or another found her so easy to relate to.

Having interviewed the playwright, director and lead performer prior to seeing the show, I approached Letters to Lindy as openly as I could, and being a child of the nineties by which time much of the public intensity had blown over, I was very intrigued as to what such an intimate portrayal would look like. As it turns out, the ensemble piece littered with verbatim statements, reflections from Lindy, and musical interludes made for an incredibly emotional, energised and enigmatic evening. Those looking for a whodunit will be disappointed, but will have that disappointment swiftly about-faced when they see a much deeper importance to the events since the infanticide that changed a nation, reflecting Australian views on women, justice, celebrity and parenting. If it should return, do not miss a ticket to a truly insightful, powerful and playful piece of theatre, reflective apparently of the deep and multi-dimensional nature of the titular figure herself.

The arrival to a standard Australian family living room bordered with red desert sand sets audiences on edge from the very beginning, a perfect move by designer JAmes Browne. Before the lights even go down, it has the buzzing of rumour and rebuttal swirling between audience ears. As the show progresses, Lindy, played to perfection by Jeanette Cronin, starts to collate and file mementos as voices from the letters come in to interact, berate, or galvanise. We get the idea that the set might be Lindy's mind; the house a sense of home she has moved through to, frequently invaded by voices from the past, and that Uluru campground just beyond the forefront of her consciousness.

Cronin is flawless, smacking of dry humour laced with sincerity and sorrow not too far beneath the strong surface. Although we see more emotion than the real-life Chamberlain was infamously known for, this helps us understand we are not here to examine Lindy, but the part the public played on the national tragedy that was not celebrity, but lived trauma of a real woman. Accompanying her are the talented narrators of various letters, poems and shared experiences. Glenn Hazeldine stands out for his nth-degree portrayals of incensed gossipmongers, enraged community members, and compassionate children. Phillip Hinton brings a worldly sense to the roles he inhabits, mastering the higher-intellect content which contrasts charmingly with his more bogan renditions. Jane Phegan showed great comfort on stage, keeping seamless and deep portrayals of letter writers and stood out for actually connecting with Lindy in her parts. Max Lambert and Roger Lock's composition and sound design played a large part in keeping the emotions of scenes ever-changing which kept audience members in the moment, a refreshing if not a touch cheesy component of the production.

Darren Yap's direction is clear in the punctuation of moments, using everything from a slammed door to a pair of baby booties to hammer in the nuance of Lindy's state of mind. Actors emerged and disappeared from everywhere, and the use of sand-filled bottles, plastic bags left a sinister energy in the action, necessary to remind of the gravity of the action. Only able to imagine what kind of journey he and Cronin took together to reach as complex, genuine and thrilling portrayal of Lindy at each phase of her life, they are clearly quite a pair.

What really gave this play legs was how the saga of this one woman and her family still holds much weight, drama and insight to how modern Australia works. How women are interpreted by society is still influenced by this staunch and unique human. The Australian way of independent parenting was shattered, as was the national view of Australia as a place where the most horrendous and mysterious happenings took place. Unmissable should it return.

Images by Lisa Tomasetti.

To post a comment, you must register and login.