Second Chance Theatre is well known for exceptional independent theatre in Perth. Thrilled to learn of the award-winning theatre company’s upcoming show Playthings, running at The Blue Room Theatre this November, we had a chat with Writer and Director Scott McArdle.
Gutter Culture: Playthings is a show that explores some compelling and confronting themes. The narrative is also interwoven with hope and a sense of place. Tell us about the approach you’ve taken with creating this piece.
Scott McArdle: This script has been a long time coming for me. It’s been two years in development—starting with FRESH INK where the first scene was created and read to audiences. Then when programmed, we did a weeklong development and since then I’ve written on my own, gotten feedback in the rehearsal room, edited, and strengthened. It’s a long process but I like to take my time when creating a new work. You need to nurture it as it grows in you rather than push it into the spotlight before its ready. You never know what might spark a missing plot point and it’s never productive to force it so giving a piece time really allows it to grow naturally in your subconscious.
GC: What is the most unexpected discovery that’s come from this project?
SM: It started out as a very stream-of-consciousness writing exercise where the idea of two kids walking through the bush to find a dying kangaroo became clear in my mind. It was almost a year before I touched the piece again—returning to Lucy and Arnold in an effort to expand their story. What became very obvious was that I had to tell the story of the community I grew up in. That these two characters who had popped into my head shared the DNA of people I’d gone to school with and grown up with.
I’d never written about my upbringing before, having always been told to not speak about the things that had happened in it, so I thought it was time to break that stigma and dig deep into what it is to lose your childhood and to get exposed to death really early on in your life.
GC: Tell us about the main characters, Lucy and Arnold.
SM: Lucy and Arnold are two polar opposite 13-year-olds. She’s angry and grungy and cool, and he’s dorky and anxious. They’ve both seen some shit—stuff that they can’t comprehend yet. They’re not based off anyone specifically but they’re two teenagers who I think most people will be able to recognise and empathise with. They’re outsiders, loners, and they’re just trying to figure out who they are and where they fit.
Their relationship is one that I think we can all relate to, a burgeoning first romance that’s awkward and weird but powerful, it takes a hold of you and can walk a line that is at times unhealthy and even dangerous.
GC: What was the most important consideration for you in creating this piece?
SM: Not to make this an indulgent, misery-porn auto-biographical work but to make it an exciting addition to WA’s brilliant theatrical canon. Whenever you write anything, you’re obviously impacted by what you believe and know, but I think the key to good narrative is taking the best bits and interweaving that with fiction. Some distance and some hindsight really lend themselves to powerful theatre making and clarity of message.
GC: When you think about writing—this show and others—what is the common thread in your works?
SM: I’m a daydreamer so I rarely begin with a message or statement I want to deliver, but instead with an interesting story or image. I follow that madly, going down the rabbit hole. A lot of what I’m chasing at the moment are what I perceive to be great injustices. My work Laika looked at totalitarian governments and cover-ups, and Playthings digs deep into childhood trauma, mental illness, and the loss of innocence. I write to understand, to empathise, so often what I’m writing about is something about the world that outrages me or that perplexes me.
GC: How much of your personal experience is apparent on stage?
SM: I think I’ve done a pretty good job masking my authorial voice in the work. I’ve tried to do this because I don’t think I have all the answers—no one is the possessor of truth. So, what I’ve tried to do is present (through the four characters) four opinions that reflect what it’s like to be in a community suffering from trauma. How teachers respond, how parents do, and how kids do. That’s my experience really, being a witness to how people react to the worst possible situation. But none of these characters are me per se.
GC: Is there anything else you’d like our readers to know?
SM: On paper, it sounds pretty depressing, but I swear it’s a good time! It’s a really sweet story of friendship, hope, and survival that has some trademark Australian humour in there. A little something for everyone.
Playthings runs from 5 to 23 November. Get tickets here.