In a bucolic setting with a serene cloudscape, a man is penitently building a dry-stone wall. A country idyll this is not.

Written by Australian playwright Joanna Murray-Smith, American Song premiered in 2016 at the Milwaukee Rep.

David Mealor ably directs this searing 85-minute monologue, which examines the personal impact of American domestic gun violence. Murray-Smith employs American poet Walt Whitman’s notion of democratic equality and rural idealism to cleverly juxtapose the price paid for these principles. The insights are not exclusive to our allies.

Renato Musolino in American Song. Photo © Nic Mollison

When a mass shooting leads inexorably to the question “Why?”, Murray-Smith goes to some lengths to steer us away from the comfort of blaming any of the usual suspects. The protagonist is apolitical and not religious. He believes his views are moderate, reasonable and informed. There he is not alone.

Renato Musolino is Andy: a father, husband and worker at a crossroads. A consuming examination of the personal tragedy that irrevocably changed his life is met with explanations so inadequate as to leave him bereft and furious. Anguish fills his impassioned pleas as torment and suffering shape his new existence. Musolino gives a stellar solo performance with moments so painful we want to look away, or perhaps metaphorically get away.

Andy’s tale commences long before the catastrophic, life-changing events occur. To paint a character arc of the before-person and the after-person is a challenging aspect of the script, and it is well negotiated by Musolino and Mealor.

The dramatic tension of the first half is perfect, a gripping narrative of what-ifs and possibilities. Less satisfyingly, once we know whodunnit there is nowhere to go but slackly into the protagonist’s abyss, where he abandons us with his enigma in a place where names and numbers are all but meaningless.

Renato Musolino in American Song. Photo © Nic Mollison

Composer and sound designer Quentin Grant, and lighting and AV designer Nic Mollison, manipulate us with gentle subtlety and filmic persuasions. Birds flit across the sky in lighter moments and dark clouds loom as we are gripped by the complementary reveals.

Set and costume designer Kathryn Sproul creates an expansive canvas where masonry meets astroturf and heartfelt chats are delivered from the comfort of a wheelbarrow sporting a plumb bob. Andy is kitted out in the ubiquitous flannel shirt, notably the costume of the camper, builder and hunter.

The Goodwood Theatre’s temporary seating on rickety tiers keenly reminds us of the fleeting nature of life and adds to the feeling that the messages in the play must be told with some urgency, if not outright discomfort.

However, this production benefits greatly from the intimacy of the arena staging, where Andy’s up-close and personal questions and entreaties are impossible to ignore. Here Musolino shines, his audience engagement confronting and brilliant.

American Song plays at the Goodwood Theatre, Adelaide until 2 November.