Hunters Hill Theatre: The Revlon Girl - Review By Daniel Conway

When a tragedy happens, we cannot help but be captivated by it — whether it’s morbid curiosity for details, empathetic reactions to grief, or indignant rage at the incompetence of authorities. There is something intensely human about how we cannot look away from tragedy. However, once the social consciousness has moved along to either the new tragedy or the minutiae of the “real world”, there is a truly uncomfortable reality: there are people whose lives must continue in the wake of the unimaginable.

The Revlon Girl is a play about just this. Set in the aftermath of the Aberfan Disaster in Wales, The Revlon Girl tells the story of a group of bereaved mothers meeting with a Revlon consultant. It is a show with a simple enough premise, but it is thrilling and engrossing due to the skill of the performers and the smart choices in stagecraft. Hunters Hill Theatre Company have a truly exceptional show that had me moved.

Director Jenifer Wilson pulled together a tight show that hit all the right emotional beats and worked excellently with her collaborators to create magic on stage. The set was bare but full of character, thanks to the attention to detail of set designer Casey Moon-Watton. From the stained walls to the posters on the noticeboard and the leaky pipe, Watton made the bare room feel real — I could almost smell the smoke that would have emanated from the pub below. Wilson’s direction and Watton’s intentionally spartan design allowed for seamless use of projections, coupled with beautiful blue lights designed by Wayne Chee, creating a dynamic space that captured the emotional state of the women on stage and produced poignant, intimate moments as each character delivered heart-wrenching monologues.

The cast of five women work beautifully together and approach these stories with so much warmth and reverence. Laura Stead, who plays Sian, emanates a warmth and kindness that feels ingrained but is wearing thin, as if she is exhausted from continuing. Kate Kelly as Marilyn paints the picture of a woman who has been addled by grief, exemplifying what I mean when I say that these roles are being handled with the utmost care. This role could be a caricature if played too heavily, but Kelly finds the balance. The irreverent, quick-witted and strong Rona is brought to life by Anthea Brown, who captures the light and shade perfectly to land the punchlines her character provides without ever undercutting the tension that has been built. Brown has an excellent foil in Annalie Hamilton’s Jean. Hamilton adds depth to Jean, allowing the audience to see past the put-together visage to see the broken woman just trying to get by.

Rounding out the ensemble is Niamh McKervey playing the titular Revlon Girl. McKervey plays the proxy for the audience, wrapped up in the narrative of these women but never overshadowing them. Her character’s empathy is beautifully rendered — tentative at first, but gradually blooming into something deeply human and quietly powerful. The chemistry among the cast is exceptional; there is a generosity in each performance that lifts the others up, creating a shared emotional landscape that feels lived-in, authentic and profoundly moving.

Revlon Girl is heartbreaking and cathartic — it is deeply sad, joyful, and full to the brim with superb performances that make it worth the pain you feel for the real men, women and children at the centre of this tragedy.