REVIEW: The Robot Dog by Roshelle Yee Pui Fong & Matthew Ngamurarri Heffernan – Melbourne Theatre Company

Janelle and her partner, Harry, have arrived at her mother’s home. Her mother has recently died and as the smart house – Hus – reminds Janelle often, she has thirty days to clear everything out. Janelle and her mother, Melanie, were estranged and Janelle finds she has little connection to what Melanie has left behind. And what is she going to do with mum’s robot therapy dog, who has a lot to say about the whole situation?

The year is 2042 and everything is automated. Hus ushers the two central characters into the house with a generic acknowledgement of country that has been so corporatised, it no longer means anything. Janelle has Cantonese heritage and Harry is a First Nations man and beyond struggling with Melanie’s passing, they are also stuck in a future that feels rigid and oppressive. Harry can’t get a job because of a minor infraction as a child. Melanie needs to upskill to help her in the workforce – speaking fluent Cantonese would help, but she never learned.

The Robot Dog is a gentle comedy about connection to culture in a world that is corporate and clinical and controlled by the government. In between reminding Janelle of how little time she has left in her mother’s house, Hus badgers her about job applications and the Robot Dog tries to therapise every moment. The clash of cultures in a not-so-distant future is charming, but some of the details of twenty-years-hence feel more like window dressing than a fully realised world.

Kristie Nguy (Janelle) and Ari Maza Long (Harry) work beautifully together – balancing the grim situation of cleaning out the house with their characters’ quirky outlooks on life. Even as they struggle to find a job, they clearly love and support each other. They show us a relaxed, playful couple who are trying to build a future together.

The script has a lot to say about communication and connection to heritage and language and culture. In the future, the characters don’t need to learn language; they can be enhanced by an augment that plugs into their necks. The characters conclude that this is cheating and the importance of building a real connection to language is hinted at but never fully explored.

Nathan Burmeister’s set is affectingly minimalist, tying us to a place. Brockman’s clever lighting design anchors us in the house with very particular lighting changes to show us Hus’ changing states and its increasingly sinister interactions with Dog.

I appreciate how this play explores grief and a future fear of a country increasingly devoid of empathy and human connection. But some of the details didn’t quite ring true. Is this really the first time these characters have talked about how one of their cultures perceives the other? Do we really need to hear so much from Hus early on to clue us in to the socio-political landscape of the 2040s or is there some other way that can be revealed to us?

The Robot Dog finds some interesting ways to compare and contrast two cultures that are essential to the modern make-up of this country. The details that Fong and Heffernan imbue the characters and situation with feel fresh, but as a whole the play doesn’t rise above a sort-of sitcom premise with serious undertones. Grief and culture are weighty subjects, but this play doesn’t really make enough of either.

- Keith Gow, Theatre First

The Robot Dog is playing as part of AsiaTopa at the Melbourne Theatre Company until March 21

Photos: Tiffany Garvie