Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 (reviewed Friday 6 June 2025).
The Revlon Girl is a human interest story where appreciation of beauty is examined with great tenderness. Intersected with true and tragic events, Neil Anthony Docking’s female-centric play eschews cliches and examines what it means for a woman to wear make-up. As the play asserts, beauty rituals are not frivolous; it’s not just lipstick but a reflection of self-identity and self-esteem.
Set in the mid-1960s, four Welsh women from Aberfan come together at a local pub to commiserate after the tragic loss of their young children in a horrific spoil tip disaster. A total of 116 children and 28 adults were killed, including 5 school teachers. The group have been meeting for about 8 months when they decide to commission the service of a Revlon representative to give them some beauty tips, with the hope of reclaiming some joy of womanhood back into their lives. Sian is the cheerleader of this initiative, her eyes bulging with disbelief at how beautiful! the Revlon Girl is. The other three women, though in passive agreement, are not so sure about the need for any physical transformation, especially not when they are still in grief over their deceased children. But in slow measure, we see the connections that signify how love, grief and empathy can be expressed in a multitude of ways. The Revlon Girl’s role is an innocuous but important part of their healing.
From the moment I read Jennifer Willison directed this play, I knew it would be good. Jennifer draws from her own experience working as a cosmetics consultant in London. As each client sits in the make-up chair, waiting to be transformed, we see anticipation, nervousness, uncertainty and disbelief. The sensory experience of having a stranger apply make-up to their skin is linked to an emotional and psychological response. There is tension in wanting to be beautiful but not wanting to be seen, for fear of shame, ridicule, further guilt. The gallows humour (‘you need more than make-up to fix her ugly face!’) balances the bleak subject matter.
With heavy material dealing with extraordinary events, it appears at times as if the cast are ‘playing the effect’ of vulnerability, but you do get a sense how different personalities might deal with trauma. Accents are approximated but enunciation is crisp and clear. It’s a slow burn that pays off, yet curiously the play omits hymns or songs (a big part of Welsh tradition), relying on exposition alone to describe the unspeakable.
Wearing a striking red uniform and heel pumps, The Revlon Girl is an immaculate vision from head to toe. Niamh McKervey’s performance in the role is warm, reticent and authoritative with a tacit grasp of subtext. We learn that The Revlon Girl’s name is Charlotte, and her mother also experienced grief and resistance to self-care. This particular revelation, delivered with composure and conviction by Niamh, is brilliant.
Kate Kelly as Marilyn reveals a character who is embittered and haunted by ‘what ifs’. Did she ignore her daughter’s premonition of an impending disaster? Kate’s masterful body language and micro-expressions creates a woman on the brink of madness, turning towards conspiracy theories and superstition to find much-needed answers.
Anthea Brown is the potty-mouthed Rona who will never wait in line again, after being made to queue up for hours to identify the body of her child. Rona is a force of strength to be reckoned with, someone you would want in your corner in a fight. Rona accepts no BS, grilling The Revlon Girl on how much she actually donated to the Memorial Fund and blasting the bureaucracies for reducing human life to a quibble over expenditure.
Annalie Hamilton is the evangelical Jean married to the local Vicar. Jean is expecting another child that was conceived before her son was taken from her. Her faith is rattled by her devastating loss, but ultimately, she chooses to rationalise it as being part of God’s plan, because without this belief, her whole world and identity is shattered. Her faith and status gives her a sense of control over the situation. Annalie gives her character an edgy, steely demeanour coming to terms with tragic and complicated circumstances.
Laura Stead is Sian, the woman who idolises the Revlon Girl at first sight. Laura conveys Sian’s hunger for human touch and healing. The loss of her child has fractured her relationship with her husband, David, who will not contemplate the one thing she wants – to become a mother again. Sian is hoping a makeover will restore her confidence and re-ignite their intimacy. Laura’s performance is passionate and dynamic, giving the word beautiful! soulful meaning.
(Annalie Hamilton) and Revlon (Niamh McKervey)
The stage is sparse – save for a bucket catching droplets of water and the familiar portrait of a young Queen Elizabeth (who was present after the disaster meeting rescue workers and victims’ families). Commentary is made on the Queen’s radiant complexion and whether she deserves praise when someone in her position has never really had to struggle. But Jean wholeheartedly defends her – “can you imagine meeting all those people? That must be hard.” The dialogue speaks to human nature of making comparisons and judgement, especially when one is feeling bereft and insecure.
The projected images of archival photos, of little coffins all lined up in rows and townsfolk swarming in with shovels, leaves a haunting impression.
The Revlon Girl is playing at Hunters Hill Theatre in Club Ryde til 22 June 2025. For tickets and showtimes, go to https://www.huntershilltheatre.com.au/
CREDITS:
Photography
Dan Ferris
Cast
LAURA STEAD – Sian
NIAMH MCKERVEY – Revlon
KATE KELLY – Marilyn
ANTHEA BROWN – Rona
ANNALIE HAMILTON – Jean
Production
JENNIFER WILLISON – Director
TODD BEILBY – Assistant Director
JOAN RODD – Production Manager
JENNY ANDERSEN – Stage Manager
WAYNE CHEE – Lighting Design
CASEY MOON-WATTON – Set & Sound Design
GENEVIEVE BONE – Prompt