Razorhurst

19 June 2019 | 10:52 am | Sean Maroney

"A singular, understated, and rich joy." Pic by John McRae.

A singular, understated, and rich joy, Razorhurst is a succulent mix of impressive design, direction, and acting.

Razorhurst is a musical that lays forth the story of 1920s and 1930s Darlinghurst’s seedy streets. Written by Kate Mulley with music by Andy Peterson, the two-hander is soft yet brash, stylised yet gritty and real. The two characters, Tilly Devine (Amelia Cormack) and Kate Leigh (Debora Krizak), are “the worst women in Sydney”, a brothel madame and a peddler of ‘sly grog’ and cocaine. They begin as fearful and poor, before building their fearful empires. Don’t mistake the seeming partnership, though, they (and their razor-wielding gangs) despise each other, and are at each other’s throats.

Devine and Leigh are historical figures in the Sydney underground. Mulley’s script, though, is masterful, and we see these two ‘broads’ telling their stories from beyond the grave, haunting the same house as decrepit, rancid ghostly figures, retelling their triumphs and falls from... Well, definitely not ‘grace’. A pulsing theme amid their malfeasance, though, are their iron backbones and vicious rejection and use of men after being witness and victim to atrocious and varied abuses. Peterson’s music for piano ranges from upbeat and gaudy to mournful without ceremony, and with great finesse. 

Benita de Wit’s direction is spellbinding. A single moment of Devine, front of stage, miming a razor slashing upwards is thrown with a crafty lighting change to a splatter of blood on the butcher’s plastic backing the stage. The demeanour of the women, performing for an audience, never departs too far from a moving embodiment of years of street-living and prison-going. Benjamin Brockman’s lighting design accompanies and facilitates de Wit’s magic touch with many a magic touch of his own. Moments that turn the stage into sepia photographs of the frenemies are art-pieces of their own. The set and costume design demonstrate Isabel Hudson as a professional with as magical a touch as de Wit and Brockman – this trio cast a delightful charm on the Hayes Theatre. 

Finally, Cormack and Krizak are fascinating performers. Yin to each other’s yang, thoughtful and fretful, their performances are a pleasure to watch, and would be in a blank room, just you and them. The quality of the creative ensemble is something quite special. You’d be a fool to miss Razorhurst