Holly and Sam’s friendship begins at a training camp, where both are trying out to become ballkids for the Australian Open tennis tournament. It’s a shy, awkward meeting; two 13-year-olds, unsure of themselves. Sam’s sister is already well-known at the camp and Holly is there because their mum hopes they might make some friends. Holly makes one friend and it’s a friendship that will endure.
Ballkids
(or, scenes from a friendship) was first staged at La Mama in 2024 as part of Melbourne Fringe. It
received rave reviews, won an award for Best New Writing at Melbourne Fringe, a
Green Room Award for Best New Writing and the prestigious Rodney Seaborn Playwrights
Award. Theatre company VIMH (Voice in my Hands) had already made a name for
themselves with Liv Satchell’s Grief Trilogy at La Mama, along with community
building projects like Thinking Ground and, in their early years, dinner and a show.
2026 is the
company’s 10th anniversary and this new season of Ballkids at
fortyfivedownstairs is an opportunity to bring back this multi-award-winning
work but also celebrate a decade of brilliant and beautiful indie work. It’s
also the only VIMH show I had missed across the company’s history, so I was
excited to complete the set.
I called
Satchell’s Grief Trilogy an incredible achievement, after I finally saw I
sat and waited but you were gone too long. All three works were
intelligently crafted, emotionally moving and delicate in their choices to
expose the messiness of grief in public settings. They were heavy, of course,
but also life-affirming. The works always centred the connections between
people and there was a tangible reverence for the simple, almost mundane
meetings between strangers or, in the case of my sister feather, the estranged.
Ballkids’ opening scene is remarkable in its
detail and shorthand for how people act together and alone. Holly applying
sunscreen is a ritual but it’s also a window into their personality. The
arrival of Sam is nothing special but one Holly reaches out with a large bottle
of sunscreen, the two kids reaching across the divide awkwardly, it feels
monumental. The teenage dorky equivalent of Michaelangelo’s The Creation
of Adam.
The rest of
the ninety-minute play is a check-in to their friendship across twenty-five
years; weathering the changing nature of their lives – first crush, first spontaneous coffee order, first trip overseas, first death-in-the-family – even as their
relationship remains solid, a touchstone in an increasingly disruptive and
disrupted world.
Satchell’s
writing is exquisite. Every moment between Sam and Holly feels real and relatable.
Each scene is an excerpt from their long, complicated lives – almost mini-plays
within themselves – while adding to a portrait of a friendship that endures.
There’s no real conflict between Sam and Holly, no struggle invented to create false
drama. The structure of the play itself, one scene for each year, is both a
comfort to the audience and a tension: where will we find them next and what
has happened in the ellipses in between.
Director,
and co-founder of VIMH, Julian Dibley-Hall has worked closely with Satchell to
create a show that is genuinely moving because we like spending time with these
two characters. We feel everything they go through, highs (including getting
high) and lows (including depression), genuine laughter and wrenching tears.
Their work with their two actors feels alchemical, creating magic from theatremaking.
Filipe
Filihia’s simple set design – one corner of a tennis court, and a scoreboard
that counts the years and their ages – is the perfect canvas for these stories
to be painted on. John Collopy’s lighting is energetic and masterful in its colour
and movement. Tom Backhaus’ score helps to underpin the emotion.
Performers
Izabella Yena and Mich McCowage are in top form, creating two fully-fleshed out
characters who can say everything with a simple nod or gesture but who are also
not backwards when it comes to opening up and spilling their guts. They are
teenagers messaging each other on MSN and they become adults who can’t believe
they are the ones in charge now. We see them dancing in clubs and comforting
each other after loss, and enduring the pain and separation of lockdowns in
2020 and 2021. Both actors are extraordinary in exposing the power and weight
of a friendship that lasts and lasts and lasts, becoming stronger for all the
years they’ve known each other.
I was very
moved by Ballkids because it’s intimate and expansive, it digs into
simple things without forgetting about the backdrop of the ever-changing world.
Mostly though, I was captivated by how kind it is, how thoughtful and generous
the work is about people and their connections. Against the backdrop of 2026,
seeing theatre that is so warm is a balm.
I find it
difficult not to be effusive about this work, made by the most wonderful of
people and theatremakers. Please don’t mind me, but I have to gush. Ballkids
is perfect – not a word or spot of sunscreen out of place.
Ballkids is playing for a limited time at
fortyfivedownstairs. It closes on September 24th
Photos: Darren Gill
Comments