The Lark → Space Theatre

 

The Lark’s opening line is “let me tell you a story,” delivered with such earnest softness by Noni Hazlehurst it's as if she gently takes the audience’s hands. And in her grip, Hazlehurst guides us through The Lark, a story of family, grief, and loss in all its varying forms. 

Playing the single character of Rose Grey, Hazlehurst stands behind the bar of ‘The Lark,’ a suburban Melbourne pub she has inherited from her father. ‘The Lark’ now stands as a desolate building that holds nothing but the memories of all who came inside. This is Rose’s final goodbye to a place that has shaped her. 

Hazlehurst masterfully brings Daniel Keene’s script to life. She stitches together memories of her pub shifts, the patrons whom she remembers serving, the stories they came in with, and the sense of self she built along the way. Most of all, she flits between these memories and ones of her father, George. Hazelhurst shares that Rose Grey’s mum left her when she was young, leaving her with her beloved father, who served in the War before opening The Lark. Like all long-standing pubs in this country, The Lark has welcomed patrons from all walks of life since George acquired it, Rose calls it “Noah’s ark for the lonely.” These venues may come and go, but the characters who visit them transcend across generations. 

The message here is that it is impossible to forget. Bricks and mortar may crumble but the memories of those we experienced a moment with, remain forever. I admired how Keene’s script explores a father-daughter relationship in a way that was so heartfelt and honest. Keene's portrayal of a sweet Australian father-daughter duo is beautifully authentic. Their love is expressed through quiet acts of care and the easy banter that defines so many Aussie family relationships.

Hazelhurst has crafted the most mesmerising tone that has the audience follow her on this journey completely. At times she scoffs at herself, at a memory, and juxtaposes painful memories with gentle, larrikin-style humour. Her reflections come and go, some softly spoken, others highly emotive, all of which combine to place the audience in her stream of consciousness. 

Matt Scholten’s direction is perfectly simple. It’s a pleasant, refreshing reminder that theatre is most powerful when it is deeply human. We only really see the lighting change its hues to suit the tone of the moment as Hazelhurst shuffles around the set. 

The Lark gently guides its audience through grief, loss and the strength of memories. It is a theatre experience that encourages you to be still, stay present, and trust the journey Hazelhurst takes you on, know that she has got your hand after all.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

- By Sophie Tsoulos