Sabotage at The Motley Bauhaus
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Date Reviewed: 03/12/2025
For anyone who has spent long stretches in airport terminals—those liminal spaces where time blurs and self-reflection creeps in—Sabotage feels instantly recognisable. Harrison Clark’s debut play, making its world premiere at The Motley Bauhaus in the first week of December captured that peculiar blend of anticipation, vulnerability, and existential drift with striking wit and clarity.
Set in an otherworldly departure lounge, the play follows a traveller whose long-planned escape is derailed by the unexpected arrival of an older version of themselves. It’s a premise that lands with particular resonance for those familiar with the mental gymnastics of long-haul travel and the quiet, sometimes uncomfortable conversations we have with ourselves at 2 a.m. between boarding calls.
Clark, performing alongside Declan Magee, delivers a script threaded with absurdist humour, bisexual angst, and moments of piercing introspection—tones reminiscent of Waiting for Godot, reimagined through the lens of modern uncertainty. Both actors handle the material with excellent comedic timing and a quick-witted precision that elevates the dialogue beyond cleverness into something genuinely alive. Their dynamic is sharp, playful, and deeply engaging, grounding the surreal scenario in emotional truth.
Director Maya Britbart Ellazam brings a confident, crafted ambience to the space that feels both familiar and uncanny. Her staging enhances the script’s layered tensions: the tug-of-war between who we are, who we were, and who we might yet become.
That said, one significant concern: real cigarettes were smoked on stage during the performance. Given that the play is set in an airport terminal — where smoking would typically be strictly prohibited — this choice felt jarringly incongruent. Moreover, it was not flagged in any of the pre-show advisories or online descriptions, which I understand is contrary to theatre regulations in Australia. Rather than adding atmosphere, the real smoking felt absurd, out of place, and unnecessary.
Sabotage remains a darkly funny and sharply observed meditation on self-doubt, emotional baggage, and the stories we tell ourselves when we think no one is listening. It captures the turbulence of internal confrontation with both humour and heart—much like an unexpected delay that forces us to sit still long enough to hear our own thoughts. Sabotage proves itself a bold and compelling debut, yet the decision to use actual cigarettes — especially without warning — feels like a misstep in an otherwise assured production.
A side note: Upon leaving the theatre, the audience walked directly into a poetry recital taking place in the main bar area. There was no announcement at the end of the performance advising departing patrons to be mindful of the event underway, which led to an awkward and avoidable clash of atmospheres. While this is not a flaw of Sabotage itself, it did detract from the overall ambience of the venue where there was obvious disappointment for those who were disturbed.
Reviewed by Viv Lynch