Sean Riley

In conversation playwright Sean Riley is a man who conducts and melds his words with his hands. Never still, he uses his very expressive face to punctuate his speech, and to emphasise that which goads him. Riley readily agrees his story for 'Beautiful Words' is a compressed reality;
it's children overboard, dentention camps, it's a lot of the last five years... It's all about friendship and forged identities and mistaken identities."

It's also completely topical, though it draws upon events from the past, and Riley knows full well his topic and the way he approaches it are likely to be controversial.

'Beautiful Words' weaves its web in three acts, a long play aimed at the teenage audiences for whom Riley has so eloquently written in the past with works such as 'The Time Of Ashes' and 'The Dark Son', and last year's 'My Sister Violet' (produced by Urban Myth, it dealt with Attention Deficit Disorders), another Riley work which pulled no punches about its subject.

"Part One is set between now, contemporary Adelaide, and the memory of a grandfather telling his grandson Toby about his experiences in the final days of Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp, so that's a real thighslapper, that one," he explains. "It tells the story of the son of a conductor who befriends a group of gypseys in the camp.

"And then Part Two is a completely over the fence screwball comedy set now - three years ago actually - on the far Northern coast of Australia. It's about these two eccentric spinster sisters who run this defunct picture theatre, which shows a loop of famous Hollywood era movies week after week. There's this group of 'survivors' from all over the world who turn up night after night to watch these movies. There's a Bosnian ex-doctor, there's a retired British army general..."

One particular night a journalist comes into the fictitious town of Herring Bay and reports that a boat full of refugees has just sunk off the coast.

This precipitates the crisis, for the lone survivor of the sinking is a young boy (Ari) who is taken in by this community of survivors and shielded from authorities. "He washes up on the beach, and the detention centre is just up the road," explains Riley.

We look at each other, well aware that Australia's detention policy is back in the spotlight and Australia is likely to face similar tests with the latest wave of refugees, from West Papuan.

"It's not reality at all, actually," he defends the plays storyline. "In the rehearsal room I tell my actors, 'Don't dig for the motivation - it's just a piece of froth". But in the last five minutes it kind of slams you in the guts - I won't say anything more."

At the same time, in no way does he shy away from his stance.... "I just don't agree with locking anyone up," he says firmly, and for once his hands remain still. "I totally understand the need for security and so on..." He sighs, and points out they've not gone 'over the top' in terms of the play - no SS uniforms, no striped concentration camp victims... but Auschwitz, a Nazi death camp, is used as - what- a cipher? A reminder? "For me it straddles modern history like the big daddy of all things. This play does go out of its way to say 'actually they're nothing alike. Explicitly so."

Is that the big picture, I ponder, that we (the citizentry), 'allow' our governments to do these things without protesting? "Complacency is probably the wrong word," he allows, "but it's the closest one I can come to, especially when we're a nation made up of survivors." A news frenzy over a boatload of refugees completely overlooks the fact that this is our history, pretty much being played out before us. For schools audiences 'Beautiful Words' is likely to be a really challenging performance. "But I wanted it like that," he windmills. "I think 'Don't talk down to kids', I hate it. They know, and they're so sophisticated."

"Part three is where the first two collide, so we jump back to the grandfather and the grandson, who we discover are related to characters we've met in Part Two; there's resolve, the story of the boy who is washed up on the beach continues. Part Three is probably the most hopeful and at the same time the most bleak. This is potentially the future and it ends with a question mark, about children in detention, people who get temporary protection visas..."

Alex Wheaton

'Beautiful Words' opens at Higher Ground (Rundle St) on Fri 5 May, proudly supported by dB Magazine. See the Prize Frenzy