I won’t go into what I think the play is about, because that wouldn’t be fair to either you or me.
As a writer, I don’t enjoy writing a dry summary for a story that has taken me years to write through a creative lens. And as an audience member, I always enjoy trying to figure out what the writer or director is trying to ask us through their creative expression. I don’t want to steal the joy that comes with the game between the creative and the viewer.
Instead, I’m going speak about the wonderful opportunity this play has given me, and in particular, the opportunity Melbourne Theatre Company and Queensland Theatre have given me with the play. Not only to express my cultural and political voice as an Aboriginal person, but as a creative who loves nothing more than an opportunity to dream big.
‘The footy in this play is the vehicle that carries the story, yet it’s a story that goes beyond football.’
Nathan Maynard
When I met Melbourne Theatre Company’s then Head of New Work Chris Mead for a yarn and a ten ounce of Boags at Salamanca on a crisp Tassie arvo, my mind was racing: ‘What play do I pitch to this man?’ I’d been workshopping three plays in my head in the months leading up to our scheduled meeting but had not yet decided which play to pitch to him. In the moment, I decided to pitch all three of them.
My mentor Annette Downs had arranged the meeting. Annette and Chris were mates and I knew she would have gone in hard for me and talk me up big. Thanks Annette.
I’m extremely shitty at articulating my story ideas, I’m always going off on tangents (like I am now). So, I clumsily pitched the three stories to Chris, and I can’t remember what the other two ideas were now, but Chris liked the idea of a footy play and he liked the bigger themes I planned to stash within it.
He then said, ‘go away and write me a treatment about the play and remember, you’re writing for the Melbourne Theatre Company, so write it for scale.’ With those words I could have kissed Chris on his head.
I’d been itching at the bit to write something of size and get it on the big stage. As a viewer, works of scale have always been my jam. From major installation pieces, to the biggest paintings in the gallery and, of course, the big theatre productions. There are many aspects I enjoy in works of scale and ambition is one of them.
Even a musical. I’m not a lover of musicals, but I appreciate the ambition of a big musical. And I enjoy the repetitive language and the energy that comes with a chorus. So, right from the beginning, I knew I wanted to bring a musical feel into the script (minus the extended sing songs). I also enjoy the physical action you see on the stage in a musical, and with 37, I wanted to create a script that was as engaging on the eye as was on the ear. And I think anyone who sees 37 will agree with me when I say Isaac and Waangenga’s choreography is more than engaging; the cultural nuances masterfully layered through the movement make it absolutely captivating.
Every footy game – country or AFL level – is a semi-improvised work of scale. Chris gave me permission to go big, but it made sense that a footy play had to be big.
Ask all AFL fans which games are best and they’ll say finals football because the stakes are higher. However, the highest stake in this play is a lot bigger than football. The footy in this play is the vehicle that carries the story, yet it’s a story that goes beyond football. It’s the footy play that isn’t.
Thank you Melbourne Theatre Company and Queensland Theatre for allowing us to dream big.
I’d also like to thank:
Chris Mead: Thanks for the beer, the opportunity and the support.
Victorian College of the Arts (VCA): Through a VCA development and production of the work, we discovered what this play looks like. Thank you.
The 2022 VCA 3rd year boys: You left your DNA in the characters you played and they are all the better for it.
Jenni “from the block” Medway: Your dramaturgical guidance has been much appreciated mate and myself and the story thank you deeply for it.
Waangenga Blanco: You have helped us take the physical language of this work to the next level. Thank you, my brother.
Kamarra Bell-Wykes: Your sophisticated dramaturgy and sharp eye in the room is always a blessing, sis. Thank you!
Isaac Drandic: My big Noongar brother, thanks for playing theatre with me again. Putting the game of football on stage must be the biggest challenge I’ve given you yet. And like always, your creative brilliance has shone through and you’ve made this play a shit load better than it was on paper.
And last but certainly not least, my kids, Jamani, Jayla, Lilyana and Clay. Thanks for letting your silly thespian dad chase his silly thespian dreams all around the countryside.
Up the Currawongs!