The world premiere of Jack Kearney’s Born on a Thursday is perfectly at home within the cosy confines of the Old Fitz Theatre.
Its simmering encapsulation of Australian suburban working-class life draws us into a typical Western Sydney home in 1998 over the course of a year. Director Lucy Clements has confidently and with impeccable detail brought to life a kitchen sink drama that feels much bigger than the four walls of the home.
Supported solidly by Soham Apte’s set design, complete with running water and a working stove, the home is comfortably and joyously inhabited by the cast. This hyperrealism instantly establishes the world of the play, allowing the audience to settle into the striking familiarity of suburban regularity.
Born on a Thursday: home as a stage
April (Sofia Nolan) returns home to a lukewarm reception after working as a dancer in Europe. The distance she’s travelled is only halfway towards reconciling with her mother, Ingrid (Sharon Millerchip), and the brother she knew before his traumatic brain injury (TBI) from rugby league.
Nolan is on fire as April – effortless, piercingly present and infinitely watchable even in subtle moments such as gently stretching an ankle at the kitchen bench.
We quickly get a sense of the world beyond these walls through close neighbours such as Howard (James Lugton). Lugton’s Howard is understated, likeable and quietly intriguing, taking on the responsibilities of resident handyman and confidante for the family.
The kitchen becomes its own stage when family friend Estelle (Deborah Galanos) enters, white wine in hand to heartily rib and roast anyone in her proximity. Galanos owns this part and her radiance feels like we’re sharing half the bottle with her.
Sharon Millerchip’s Ingrid is steely, no-nonsense and captures the aches of a single working mother holding it all together.
Millerchip’s absolute powerhouse performance ensures she holds the audience in the palm of her hand. We barrack for her as she relentlessly supports her family in a multitude of grand and tiny gestures. Through April’s insistent interrogation, we begin to understand why Ingrid has used every brick to build the emotional walls around her.
Born on a Thursday: tiny details
The tiny details of the time and way of life accumulate slowly to form a roaring symphony of Australian family life in the 90s. Littered throughout the production are nostalgic callbacks that provide both endearing and cringeworthy familiarity for an audience in 2025. As layers of the past are brought to the present, no one is willing to admit they may not know how to move forward.
The scenic elements ferry us throughout the year; the garden grows and days roll by, aided by Veronique Benett’s gentle lighting design. We’re never isolated from the outside world thanks to Sam Cheng’s atmospheric soundscape, capturing the volume and presence of the street, including delightful 90s soundscapes such as Ben Lee’s ‘Cigarettes Will Kill You’.
True to the era, there is no gentle parenting here. As Ingrid forges a petition related to her son’s condition, she is pulled between letting him find his own way and raging against the injustice of his situation.
Owen Hasluck’s Isaac is incredibly sensitively handled and delivered with strength and ambition. The family’s wrestle with a son forever changed reminds us through Clements’ direction that the complexity of imperfection is universal.
The script overall is a strong and familiar form, staging a sincere story of family hope. There are a few times, namely in the dialogue, where it strays from the poetically mundane and stumbles into moments of unearned sentimentality and dramatic cliché.
Overall this production is all heart and explodes with all the violence, force and fervour of a family trying their best to overcome the past together.
Born on a Thursday is at the Old Fitz Theatre, Woolloomooloo, until 14 December 2025.
This article is published as part of ArtsHub’s Creative Journalism Fellowship, an initiative supported by the NSW Government through Create NSW.
