Presented by Legit Theatre Co. Directed by Margaret Thanos
Patriarchal possession and demonic exorcism take place in Belvoir’s downstairs theatre in a brutal start to its 2025 season
Reviewed by Justin Clarke
Belvoir 25A, Belvoir St Theatre
Until 30th March, 2025
Tickets: https://belvoir.com.au/productions/furious-mattress/
Type: Dark Humour, Comedy Horror, Independent
If You Liked: The Exorcist (1973), Arthur Miller’s The Crucible
The Exorcist, The Exorcism of Emily Rose and The Conjuring. What do these films have in common apart from demonic possession? All their horrific devilish invasions occur to women. Melissa Reeves’ darkly comedic Furious Mattress delves into the question of why. Through an exploration of domestic abuse and history’s contemplation on gender, the work is presented as a ‘based on a trued story’ tale of possession set in rural Australia.
A metal gridded frame cages a seemingly sleeping Matilda Ridgway (Else) on a floral themed bed as Ryan McDonald’s lighting glows bright and hot with Cameron Smith producing the soundscape of buzzing insatiable flies flitting around the stage. Enter a profusely sweating Julian Garner (Pierce) and fan-waving Alex Malone (Anna), and we’re immediately placed in country Australia. The overbearing heat is an immediately suffocating pathetic fallacy to ease you into a slowly moving start to act one as director Margaret Thanos lays the groundwork of a demonic possession that has reached its end.
Ultimately the flies intensify and build as Pierce and Anna watch and wait for Else to awaken from her cured possession, until the entrance of a police officer and his bewildered look of confusion cuts the scene to an invasive blackout.
Personally, I love me a horror film. I also love when director’s bring horror effectively onto the stage. It’s a difficult thing to do well on a mainstage, let alone the intimate and purposeful restrictions of Belvoir’s 25A program. So, the anticipation due to the word around town on the first show off the rack of 25A’s 2025 season was high.
Working with magic consultant Harry Milas, there are true moments of grandiose exocism staples in action. It would be unbecoming of me to spoil and explain them here and are best left to experience firsthand. The work between Milas, Elle Evangelista’s movement consultancy, Nigel Poulton’s intimacy coordination and Diego Retamales’ fight choreography (as well as a piece of applause worthy physical daring from Retamales) come together in a beautiful bout of horror-filled physicality. The result would make Tarantino blush.
Ridgway’s Else is not the head-turning, crucifix-masturbating exorcist subject here, but balances the line of possession both by the apparent demon inside of her, and the possessive demons around her. She jumps between a cold, cutting stare that is more frightening than the subject matter at play, and a smiling, playful innocence and bewilderment at the ridiculousness of accusations thrown her way. It’s at times masterful.
Reeve’s work is both hilarious and appallingly terrifying as it dissects a prevalent war on domestic violence through the supernatural
Garner’s Pierce is something out of a Jane Harper novel, seemingly plucked straight out of rural Australia and placed in Surry Hills. His hoarse, dry voice holds a seeming care for Else’s plight, but his disdain at her unabashed sexuality and deviation from anything Christian plays into Reeves’ playfulness that has you questioning Else’s possession.
Playing third wheel to Else and Pierce’s ongoing satanic-relationship troubles, Malone’s Anna has an abrupt, nasal, Kath & Kim-esque twang as she finds ways to pray incessantly between multiple cigarettes chugs. A clever piece of bait and switch costume changes in the piece’s climax sees an incredible piece of physicality by Malone. It’s almost as if her voice holds the presence of two in its captivating delivery.
It’s not until the entrance of Shan-Ree Tan’s misogynistic plumber turned Exorcist, Max, that Reeves fully delves into the brutally uncomfortable message at the centre of her work. Max’s bravado-bragging at having exorcised the “demons” out of his past relationships feels a modern equivalent to Arthur Miller’s witch-accusing paganism in The Crucible, with Tan leaning fully into his Machiavellian delivery.
Together the four make a superb ensemble under the creative team’s intricate and convincing work. The play may jump the proverbial shark towards its ending, but it walks the tightrope between socially commentating black humour and gripping physicality.
This is a bold work, from a bold creative team
Reeves’ Furious Mattress has not been staged since Tim Maddock’s 2010 staging in Naarm’s Malthouse Theatre. Although there are fingerprints of Maddock’s direction imbued within, those familiar with Thanos’ other directorial productions will see many of the “Thanos Favourites”. Incredibly swift quick changes, social commentary around gendered violence, and disco-ball showmanship all feature. The dialogue too, is sharp and biting, and the pauses are lingering and meaningful.
There are however choices that could have themselves been exorcised. In the play’s most bonkers climax, a chance to shoot for musical humour retracts from the opportunity for camp theatrical horror. The metallic gridded structure that encompasses the play’s action is more of an ineffective distraction than it is an aesthetically pleasing fly on the wall realism; sometimes leaving the audience to imagine the four walls of the theatre is better than physically building them. The question for us to see the realities in which we’re placed is the key to walking the scales in Reeve’s work. The truth of Else’s possession, and the imagined psychosis of the patriarchy around her, is the question which encompasses it entirely.
This is a bold work, from a bold creative team. Reeve’s work is both hilarious and appallingly terrifying as it dissects a prevalent war on domestic violence through the supernatural. The Exorcist it is not, nor is it The Crucible, but it could very well be the Australian equivalent to both.
Theatre Thought: Horror and theatre, do the two coalesce cohesively? Or will it always just be black humour?
Furious Mattress, Belvoir 25A (2025). Photo by Robert Catto
CAST & CREATIVES
Playwright – Melissa Reeves (she/her)
Director – Margaret Thanos (she/they)
Producer – Mathew Lee (he/him)
Producer – Jess Zlotnick (she/they)
Assistant Director – Dominique Purdue (she/her)
Set Design – Angelina Daniel (she/her)
Composer – Daniel Herten (he/they)
Costume Design – Ruby Jenkins (she/her)
Lighting Design – Ryan McDonald (he/him)
Sound Design – Cameron Smith (he/him)
Stage Manager – Cris Chavez (they/them)
Fight Choreography – Diego Retamales (he/him)
Intimacy Coordination – Nigel Poulton (he/him)
Magic Consultancy – Harry Milas (he/him)
Dialect Coach – Laura Farrell (she/her)
Movement Consultant – Elle Evangelista (she/her)
Pierce – Julian Garner (he/him)
Anna – Alex Malone (she/her)
Else – Matilda Ridgway (she/they)
Max – Shan-Ree Tan (he/him).
