The call went out to those who were needy, lonely, lovelorn and sleepless to leave messages between midnight and 6am and it was answered emphatically. The result is a compelling aural experience, which provides an insight into Melbourne after hours. The work of renowned documentary specialist Roslyn Oades, who directs, and ARIA-award winning sound artist Bob Scott, The Nightline is experiential theatre. It takes place over 35 minutes and 33 seconds.
The audience gathers in the foyer of The Malthouse and is herded outside briefly to be given riding instructions. Phones off and no talking. Then, we are led up three flights of stairs by The Nightline Concierge (Katia Molino) into the Bagging Room. There, spread out in front of us in the dim light, are 48 “stations”, consisting of chairs next to small, round tables. On the tables are positioned gold table lamps and old style, plastic, fixed phones – yellow, green, black, red and grey – plugged into junction boxes. Thereafter, the full experience unfolds.
We each put the phone to our ears and listen to the disparate voices that call The Nightline, most with a time stamp. 12:31am – a woman, presumably an actor, who has just appeared in a show, is trying to work out whether she is hungry and if she had done a good enough job. She says it would be good if there was somebody there who could help her make a decision. 12:08am – a man with an energy surge, once his meds kicked in, is feeling fragile. 12:55am – a young woman on her first nightshift the following day, who has only had the job for two months, worries that it will be creepy. 12:27am – no voice, rather a flautist playing a tune.
5:24am – a bloke recalls a funny story from his youth, when his next-door neighbour jumped the fence and found some porno magazines. They also had fags and inadvertently started a fire that almost burnt down the whole of Broadmeadows. Initially, he and the three boys he was with were so scared that they ran away and hid, but the guy telling the story said he came clean with his father. He was surprised by his dad’s reaction. This was a kid who says his father often hit him for no reason, but this time his dad thanked him, yes thanked him, for telling him the truth. It was also the first time the youngster had seen photos of naked girls.
And on it goes. Caller after caller, unloading … sharing … appreciating the anonymity. The lights in the Bagging Room flicker. On occasions, it is totally black. The voices at the end of the phone are interrupted before they are online again. Some phones are spotlit for a few seconds or highlighted by rich red lighting, a la a house of ill repute. Stark sounds are heard throughout the room. The loud rush of a train, a violin playing a melancholy tune, the squeaking of shoes, thunderclaps.
Meanwhile, The Nightline Concierge is sitting quietly at the head of the room. Next to her is a bulbous glowing lamp. She reminded me of a clairvoyant. As she is playing with a deck of cards, that could be close to the truth. But she is not dormant throughout. At one point, she is scurrying around, moving at speed between tables. Still, after her introduction downstairs, she – like the rest of us – never says a word.
The messages continue. Some are jumbled. Others clear. A caller recalls an experience when she was nine or 10 years of age and had a friend staying over. They were swinging off the branches of a tree, asking the tree to forgive them for doing so, when one of the branches broke off violently. The tree looked injured. Later in the night, at midnight or 2am, there was a loud knock on their door, but when her father went to investigate there was no-one there. 5:33am – a woman, 30-weeks pregnant with her first child reports her baby kicking and how extraordinary it is that she is carrying another human. Her partner has already gone to a 24-hour gym. Meanwhile, her baby is having a dance party inside a balloon, which is her womb.
As our Nightline experience comes to an end, we hear a series of sign offs from callers. That’s my story. Thank you for listening to me. It’s good to talk. It’s very good to talk. Indeed. It is also very good to listen, as we had just done to the sounds of those who had something to say, who wanted to while away the time, who needed company. Along with lighting designer Fausto Brusamolino, co-creators Roslyn Oades and Bob Scott have crafted something special, decidedly different and most engaging.
Originally commissioned by the RISING festival for its inaugural 2021 program, the production’s Melbourne premiere was called off because of the pandemic lockdown. Since then, the work has travelled widely – to Sydney, Adelaide, the Gold Coast and Quebec. For each new iteration, Oades and Scott seek a new batch of local voice messages from the host city. With production design by Clare Britton and switchboard design by Greg Cameron, I was suitably intrigued and invested. The Nightline is on at Malthouse Theatre until 29th August, 2026.
Alex First
Other reviews you might enjoy:
- Multiple Bad Things (Malthouse Theatre) – theatre review
- Because the Night (Malthouse Theatre) – immersive theatre review
- Hour of the Wolf (Malthouse Theatre) – immersive theatre review
Alex First is the editor of The Blurb. Alex is a Melbourne based journalist and communications specialist. He also contributes to The Blurb on film and theatre.
