
Based on the novel by Max Porter. Adapted for the stage by Simon Phillips, Nick Schlieper & Toby Schmitz. Directed by Simon Phillips. Co-Produced with Andrew Henry Presents.
Expertly crafted and powerfully performed, with stunning visuals that are worth the price of admission alone, we have a contender for one of the best shows of the year
Reviewed by Justin Clarke
Upstairs Theatre, Belvoir St
Until 24th August
Tickets: https://belvoir.com.au/productions/grief-is-the-thing-with-feathers/
Type: Surrealism, Adaptation, Exploratory
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Grief is a deeply mined emotion within theatre and literature. Across time, artists have attempted to capture the slow, torturous process that death leaves behind for us mere mortals to grapple comprehension. It’s a realm in which even The Bard himself explored questioning the world we inhabit when we have “shuffled off this mortal coil,” and even he couldn’t give us a clear answer on it, instead instructing that it “gives us pause”. In the case of Max Porter’s slim novel, Grief is the Thing with Feathers, there is much pause to be taken from its refusal to be defined by its contemporaries.
Porter’s novel is part verse and part poetry, unable to be defined by either as it navigates the inevitability of death and grief in the human experience. This adaptation sits safely in the hands of a team well versed in the gothic theatricality of literary adaptations. Directed by Simon Phillips (Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour’s Phantom of the Opera) with a lighting design and collaborated set design by Nick Schlieper (Sydney Theatre Company’s Dracula) and starring Toby Schmitz (Sydney Theatre Company’s The Seagull), this is one of those productions that taunts me to reinstate star ratings so I can persuade all readers to go and see it.
After the sudden and unexpected loss of his wife, a Ted Hughes obsessed scholar finds himself a widowed father to two boys as the three navigate the unknown waters of grief. His fascination with the novelist’s work takes corporeal form in the arrival of a Crow that inserts itself into the life of the family – how very Poe. What transpires upon this journey is one of surrealism which may divide audiences who prefer the straightforward plot. To those audiences, I plead you to give this your time. It may just help you impart your own understanding or experiences of bereaving a loved one.

He was the ‘it guy’ of theatre when I was in university, and it’s so good to see Toby Schmitz back on Australian stages. Schmitz is as commanding of the stage as he is fragile in the dual role of Crow and Dad. His voice holds a breadth of power to which it extends in both in time and space, holding a talon-like grip on your attention throughout the 100-minute run time. The theatricality in which Schmitz inhabits Crow is neither outlandishly overt, nor is it subtle as he jerks his head spasmodically, stuttering and spraying through his fricative enunciation of Porter’s poetic words. Alongside this gothic version of a Mary Poppins-esque figure, Dad’s grief comes in waves as he embodies the notion that grief is a journey. Schmitz deftly takes us on this expertly crafted journey.
The cockney-accented Crow is both healer and trickster. Sounding like a beaked version of a character from a Guy Ritchie film, the surreal elements of Phillips’, Schlieper’s & Schmitz’s adaptation takes hold whenever Crow is present. The production toes the line between inviting audience imagination and taking your hand through the many fantastical stories told by both the Boys, Dad and Crow as they journey through their loss.
Philip Lynch and Fraser Morrison take on the lively and imaginative roles of the children. The pair are both, thankfully, grounded as they take on younger figures, neither of them veering into the hyper-elasticity that is often found when adult actors play children. In doing so, it gives an aged air to the two, who fall back on their imaginations to traverse their family’s grief. Their interaction with both Crow and Dad is adult-like, with both Lynch and Morrison stepping up to take on the role of caregiver for when Crow is not present, and Dad is broken once more.
The love instilled in the craft of this production is clear and is one that hits the mark in more ways than one.
Frey Schack-Arnott’s onstage presence – situated in a corner slightly above the action – playing a continuous mournful cello haunts the piece throughout. As the boys journey in and out of stories, Schack-Arnott plucks strings, vibrates the bow, and strikes shrieking sounds that mimic Crow’s entrances and exits. It’s the production’s most inspired creative choice. This is accompanied by Daniel Herten’s evocative sound design that weaves between distinct creative choices, such as the many fluttering of wings to signify Crow’s presence, and the soft undertones of the family’s world that compliments their stories.
The coordination between Schlieper’s lighting design and Craig Wilkinson’s video design (with illustrations by Jon Weber) is a marvellous match. They harness the trendy element of cinetheatre without solely relying on its use to tell the story. There are stunningly lit pieces that are superb frozen tableaux, whilst the curved wall behind – on which Wilkinson’s design are lit – comes to life. It ultimately adds great depth, atmosphere and reverence to the surrealism of the piece.
As Grief is the Thing with Feathers comes to an end (of which there feel like many, which I believe is poignant in itself ) we are left with the one thing that sits at the very heart of grief: love. Love above all else is the singular emotion that gives grief its form, for both good and ill. The love instilled in the craft of this production is clear and is one that hits the mark in more ways than one. Nevermore? No. For Evermore? Yes.
Theatre Thought: Grief has been explored in many texts. Share with us which is your favourite work to do it.

Creative Team
Max Porter: Original Author
Simon Phillips: Director/Co-Adaptor/Co-Set Designer
Nick Schlieper: Lighting Designer/Co-Adaptor/Co-Set Designer
Toby Schmitz: Co-Adaptor
Freya Schack-Arnott: Musician
Ella Butler: Costume Designer
Freya Schack-Arnott: Composer
Daniel Herten: Sound Designer
Craig Wilkinson: Video Designer
Jon Weber: Illustrator
Margaret Thanos: Assistant Director
Andrew Henry: Co-Producer
Laura Farrell: Voice Coach / Voiceover Artist
Kobe Morgan: Voiceover Artist
Jack Stephens: Voiceover Artist
Diego Retamales: Fight Coach
Sam Illingworth: Stage Manager
Claire Edmonds-Wilson: Assistant Stage Manager
Cast
Toby Schmitz: Dad/Crow
Philip Lynch: Boy
Fraser Morrison: Boy