Belvoir St Theatre, Sydney
November 14, 2018

Directed by Judy Davis and starring three of Australia’s finest stage actors, Belvoir’s last play of the season, Strindberg’s The Dance of Death, opened to much anticipation. Frustratingly, it struggled to find its feet on opening night, the production’s emphasis on self-conscious melodrama and schlocky horror infrequently amusing and ultimately unsatisfying.

Pamela Rabe and Colin Friels. Photo © Lisa Tomasetti 

Strindberg’s pitch-black comedy, performed here in a translation by May-Brit Akerholt, traces the unhappy union of Edgar (Colin Friels), the captain of an artillery battery, and Alice (Pamela Rabe), his actress wife of a tedious 25 years. Their disinterest in each other is palpable, both occupying their respective seats as if welded to them. You understand instinctively that not one of their jibes is fresh, all needling remarks having been traded across long evenings just like this one. However, the arrival of Alice’s cousin Kurt (Toby Schmitz) introduces an exciting element of unpredictability, his sedate, unsuspecting mien like catnip to the warring couple. Like hammy actors, they get off on the drama of their unhappy lives, relishing every instance to monologue at Kurt and...