Keith Got seem to have been impressed, but doesn’t really say whether he liked the show. It’s quite brilliant. Three intensely entertaining women riffle-shuffle through a playlist made up of a lifetime of conversations, chats, stories, arguments. Three characters, each utterly unlike the others, spinning a web of their commonplaces. It’s fiercely feminist, and frighteningly feminine. I’m a man, somewhat past middle age, and I really do try to shed the prejudices I was raised with, but I was startled to realise that, yes, women probably do talk like that when I’m not in the room.
I think it’s been a good night at the theatre when realise I can still be startled.
Apart from that, those three post women are very, very good at their schtick. The humour is as dry as dust – Natalie Rose’s deadpan delivery is like twigs cracking. Mish Grigor’s slightly zany ingenuousness follows a seamless progression from despising her mother to emulating her while Zoe Coombs-Marr projects the invulnerability of a woman dipped in the Styx of complete confidence in her sexuality. She also has the advantage of spending a great deal of time without a man in the room.
Then, after a thoughtful glass of red at the foyer bar and a reflective tram-ride, I realise that beneath the split-second timing, the dust-dry delivery and the comic irony are the shadows and echoes of sexual abuse, callous, neglectful and exploitative relationships, and the disappointment of aspirations unmet.

Sorry about the typo. Keith Goy seems, of course

GOW – it’s bloody auto-corrected me twice.

Thanks (typing very deliberately) Keith Gow. What I enjoyed most, after the laughter, was the feeling of fermentation going on in my brain afterwards. I really think a profound theatrical experience is not fully realised without a tram journey to finish it off. Trams may be one reason why Melbourne is Australia’s cultural capital. Tramsylvania.