As much as theatre is pure entertainment, I absolutely love when a show throws on stage characters, words and ideas that may not be everyone’s cup of tea. Theatre that is about risk, theatre that doesn’t take the safe option, theatre that inspires debate, praise and censure. Our mainstage companies usually shy away from exploring such works, so it is a blessing that deep down at the Old Fitz, Peter Morris’ play The Age of Consent is getting a second Australian run after premiering at the Adelaide Fringe Festival. Directed by Shannon Murphy, who recently met with media interest over her production of My Name is Rachel Corrie, The Age of Consent has people all over Australia on internet forums fired up. Ironically, but expected, these people have not even seen or read the play. Hot off the heels of the Bill Henson saga, we have a play that unashamedly travels the precarious line between innocent youth and adulthood. Based on the horrific murder of UK toddler Jamie Bulger committed by children, and the beauty-queen upbringing of Jon Benet Ramsey, this two-hander is a deftly handled device of intense and fascinating character study.

Ivan Donato and Caroline Kemp are phenomenal leads, as two starkly different characters, that still share some dark resonances. Kemp is the hilarious Stephanie Dunne. Hilarious in a terrible way. Comparing child-rearing to dog-training, Stephanie is a single mother determined to instil her little darling with the “Three-T’s” and a shot at superstardom. In order to jet-launch little Raquel’s career, Stephanie quits her job at the Basingstoke Library and soon is banging down doors to get auditions for Les Mis. Whilst mending sequinned outfits, testing out ballet moves, and chowing down in sugary treats, Stephanie narrates a story that has the audience in stitches. The beauty of Morris’ writing is that so swiftly we move from laughter to stomach-turning pathos.

Similarly, Donato’s performance forces the audience to negotiate their own morals. It is a while before we are let in on the knowledge of what Timmy has done to find himself in prison. Before this we are introduced to a 19 year old that has learnt to read, thinks he could go to university and humorously philosophises about masturbation. There is something about Donato’s performance that to me was absolutely endearing. Chillingly so. Perhaps it was his stares into the audience that lingered a little too long, perhaps it was his childlike nuances. He was compelling to the point that you knew you were not meant to like this boy. He had done something very wrong, but he had been so young. He didn’t understand what he had done, but he certainly did not want sympathy. Watching and listening to Timmy is an emotional and moral journey in itself, as with Stephanie. This isn’t sit back and switch-off theatre. This is theatre that keeps you on the edge of your own morality and holds you til the end.

Although it took a while to grow on me, I found Murphy’s placement of characters on stage incredibly poignant. While Stephanie claims centre stage and has lights change according to her storytelling, Timmy delivers most of his monologues towards the back corners of the stage, slightly hidden by Stephanie. As a young man about to be set free all he wants is to disappear, as society wants him to disappear also. This play will certainly keep people debating the rights and wrongs of exploring such dark ideas on stage, although it does not in any sense condone or make light of its subject matter as many are claiming. There is some truly breathtaking writing, and the effect of certain lines could be heard rippling through the audience. This kind of theatre is vital viewing and is what is so good about independent theatre.