{"id":3791,"date":"2026-06-03T15:23:41","date_gmt":"2026-06-03T05:53:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/?p=3791"},"modified":"2026-06-08T15:29:15","modified_gmt":"2026-06-08T05:59:15","slug":"till-the-stars-come-down","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/?p=3791","title":{"rendered":"Till the Stars Come Down"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>Theatre<br><em>Till the Stars Come Down<\/em><br>By Beth Steel<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Holden Street Theatres begin their repertory season with a confronting but also warmly comic production. An unravelling family drama is set on the single day of an English Midlands wedding, charting the morning bridal women\u2019s rituals through to the last reproachful, drunken moves on the dance floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Written by Murray Bramwell<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The title of Beth Steel\u2019s captivatingly inter-connected family saga is drawn from a 1936 poem by W.H Auden \u2013 \u201cDeath\u2019s Echo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-layout-flow wp-block-quote-is-layout-flow\">\n<p><em>\u201cThe desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews<br>Not to be born is best for man:<br>The second-best is a formal order,<br>The dance\u2019s pattern ; dance while you can.<br>Dance, dance , for the figure is easy,<br>The tune is catching and will not stop;<br>Dance till the stars come down from the rafters;<br>Dance, dance till you drop.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<p>Perhaps, in 23 BCE, Horace\u2019s <em>carpe diem<\/em> was even more succinct \u2013 \u201cSeize the day, pluck the day, trusting as little as possible in the next one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>With wry compassion and bawdy candour, Steel\u2019s 2024 play reveals inter-generational lives of noisy hedonism and quiet desperation. There are open declarations of affection (and secrets and lies) for three sisters, their husbands and children, navigating the social changes and economic disappointments of post-Brexit working class England.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>It is Sylvia and Marek\u2019s wedding day and the older sisters are in a flurry of nuptial organisation. Thrice-married Maggie has come back to Nottinghamshire while Hazel, married to John, mother of two daughters Leanne and Sarah, has never left. Their widowed father, Tony is the bewildered patriarch and drop-ins arrive &#8211; Aunty Carol and her husband Pete, who we discover is Tony\u2019s long and bitterly estranged brother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Filled with Northern banter and cheery dialect the play opens with all manner of backstory and secret bridesmaid business. Steel\u2019s text is rich in detail and sudden shifts of emotion and tone. Over two hours (often fuelled by alcohol and resentment) sibling rivalries and forbidden yearnings are revealed. Grudges dating back to the miners\u2019 strikes of the 1980s, unresolved grief for a lost mother, and the hostile, casual racism towards Marek the Polish groom, all bubble to the surface.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In the confines of The Studio at Holden Street director and designer Nick Fagan has brought this turbulent and unpredictable script into an excellent and fully engaging production. Simply lit by Martin Smith, the minimal staging \u2013 in the (square) round \u2013 lays down a floor of artificial turf with a scattering of outdoor chairs, a serving trolley and a wedding table placed on a slow-moving revolve. There is also a circular string of pin-lights marking the emotional hotspot for the cavalcade of dramatic encounters \u2013 laughter, gossip, nostalgia, as well as feuds, confessions, exasperation, and dread.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>This ambitious and demanding text has delivered some vivid and memorable performances. Michelle Nightingale as Maggie plays a key role as the sister who has left under a cloud, admirably struggling with conflicts between loyalty to family and her unnurtured heart. It is a crucial and affecting performance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Krystal Kave does well as Sylvia the bride caught between family bigotry and the legitimate feelings of Marek (exuberantly and perceptively played by Spencer Scholz). Jo St Clare contributes mischievous and intoxicated comedy as Aunty Carol. Blurting secrets, full of sexual gusto, and disinhibited commentary, she triggers much of the dramatic disarray &#8211; to the chagrin of Steve Turner as husband Pete. His set piece, late in the play, where he explains the movement of the spheres by directing characters (designated as sun, moon, and various planets) to interconnect, is one of many inventive moments in Beth Steel\u2019s assured text.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Brendan Cooney is suitably reserved and diffident as Tony, the father of the bride and lonely widower, bemused by his daughters, and desolate at the brothers\u2019 rift. We see him with granddaughters, Leanne (Laura Lines ) and Sarah (Millie Fagan) and his reminiscence (with an extremely tipsy Carol) of the night they won the Tarzan and Jane contest, is another shrewd vignette.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Brant Eustace carries the role of John, the emotionally frozen, socially alienated husband of Hazel, with a convincing sense of desolation. He delivers cruel jibes and is weary with his declining life for most of the play. And so his scene with Maggie, when he declares his wish to claim back his life, to dance till the stars come down from the rafters, is central to the play.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As is Martha Lott\u2019s Hazel. She is raucous, often vulgar, outspoken, racist, and resentful of the rise of European migrants (like Marek) thriving in a Britain no longer British. This is Steel\u2019s portrait of Midlands discontent, but it is also of a woman still alive to her emotions and drives, sharply brought into focus in Martha Lott\u2019s rendering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Lott has a knack of taking abrasive, aggrieved woman characters \u2013 Albee\u2019s Martha, the mother in her own play, <em>The Debate<\/em> \u2013 and giving them meaning by capturing their perspectives, gripes, and deep sadness. Her final speeches &#8211; as the three sisters fall from drunken laffs into primal screaming, and then her poignant desperate plea to John &#8211; leave us with an admiration, not only for the strength of the text, but for this terrific production on a rainy Tuesday night in Adelaide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Till the Stars Come Down<\/em> plays at The Studio, Holden Street Theatres until June 13. Tickets: Box Office \u2013 holdenstreettheatres.com or call 08 8225 8888.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Published in <em>InDaily InReview,<\/em> June 6, 2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.indailysa.com.au\/inreview\/theatre\/2026\/06\/04\/theatre-review-till-the-stars-come-down\">https:\/\/www.indailysa.com.au\/inreview\/theatre\/2026\/06\/04\/theatre-review-till-the-stars-come-down<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>TheatreTill the Stars Come DownBy Beth Steel Holden Street Theatres begin their repertory season with a confronting but also warmly comic production. An unravelling family drama is set on the single day of an English Midlands wedding, charting the morning bridal women\u2019s rituals through to the last reproachful, drunken moves on the dance floor. Written by Murray Bramwell The title of Beth Steel\u2019s captivatingly inter-connected family saga is drawn from a 1936 poem by W.H Auden \u2013 \u201cDeath\u2019s Echo.\u201d \u201cThe [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[17,5,48,13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3791","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-adelaide-companies","category-archive","category-48","category-theatre"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3791","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3791"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3791\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3793,"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3791\/revisions\/3793"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3791"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3791"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/murraybramwell.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3791"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}