Most of us have been reared on Australian national stories that put a proud swagger in our step. We talk of Gallipoli and we think of our capacity for mateship and bravery; we talk of Pharlap and we think of our collective oversized hearts; we talk of Don Bradman and we think of drinking beer while watching or avoiding sports.
There are also stories that we struggle to talk about, because they raise some pretty ugly home truths. This is why I was so curious to see how a play would discuss Palm Island, and if I could possibly leave the theatre without wanting to self-immolate. It’s also why I was so surprised to come out of Beautiful One Day feeling uplifted and hopeful.
In 2004, an Aboriginal man died in police custody on Palm Island. The following day the community rioted, burning down the police station and vandalising the house of the policeman involved. The Artshouse, ILBIJERRI Theatre Company, Belvoir and Version 1.0 have created a theatrical documentary that shows this, and the resulting injustice, through the history of Palm Island and its community.
The six performers stood at the front of the stage (three of them from Palm Island), with four giant screens behind them. As they gave the history through personal stories of the community, the screens showed footage of Palm Island, anchoring the action. This story telling approach was effective in humanising the history of Palm Island, but at times made the performance feel fumbled. When the performers held up the books they took certain information from, I felt as if they were trying to justify what they were saying by footnoting their words.
That, however, was one of my few gripes with Beautiful One Day.
The depiction of Cameron Doomadgee’s death in custody was primarily done through the investigation. This brilliantly focuses us on the failures of the justice system, rather than the emotions of the death itself. Failures in which police challenges to the coroner’s report mean the family still have no closure (eight years later); where the family is still to receive any compensation, yet the policeman has double claimed for the damage to his house; failures that have the policeman accused of causing the death picking up the investigating policemen from the airport and cooking them dinner the night before they recorded that he was not responsible; and the failure that has Lex Wooten, the man who spoke before the riot, sentenced to six years in jail, and still under the gag orders of his parole.
The use of documentary style elements (the screens; the video camera; reading directly from cases and legislation) kept emotions controlled and powerful. This was particularly so with Kylie Doomadgee, who was able to convey controlled fury that was brilliant and terrifying in equal parts.
The most beautiful aspects were the stories told at the end. The stories of individuals who all were trying to rebuild themselves and the community. The unifying traits of everyone who spoke were those of acceptance, joy and hope. It is a particularly strange experience to have sat in the theatre, melodramatically stressed about my cold, my work and my uni exams, only to watch a man speak of the incredible luck he has because he only has to walk across the road to get a feed. Let it be known that I have not whined since seeing this.
The eye of the Beautiful One Day storm is the particularly poignant moment where this same man holds his electrolarynx up to his throat and says ‘we can’t forget, but we need to move on’. And that’s the truth of it. This is a national story that needs telling, because a nation isn’t just built on the stories of triumph and greatness.
Image credit: Ponch Hawkes
