SELKIE: Old fitz

By Elena Garcia Araujo

The Old Fitzroy Theatre in Sydney is one of those rare gems: a pub theatre with old timey vibes where history hangs in the air. Known for staging the underbelly of Australian theatre, it has long been a home for emerging artists and independent productions. Affordable and unpretentious, it is the place to be if you are chasing raw and ambitious indie theatre, and Selkie is a good place to start.

Written by Finn O’Branagáin and directed by Kurtis Laing, draws on Orkney mythology to tackle the heavy themes of domestic violence and coercive control. In folklore, selkies are creatures who live as seals in the sea, but shed their skins to live as humans on land.

Here, Rónnad (Celeste Cortez Davis) sheds her seal skin and finds herself stranded without it. She is “rescued” by Séan (Josh Hammond), who takes her into his home, clothes her, and vows to help her retrieve her skin. But the skin is gone, and its absence becomes the play’s central tension. Without it, Rónnad cannot return to the sea, leaving her bound to Séan and the relationship, no matter how suffocating it becomes.

What makes this production truly stand out is the movement direction by Josie Stanger-Jones that works seamlessly with the music, the sound designed by Matthew Forbes. Much of the relationship unfolds not through dialogue but through physicality: every breath, every hesitant touch, every lingering glance deepens the story. Dance and gesture become the vocabulary of the couple’s connection, mapping out shifts from desire to dependency, warmth to possession.

This low budget set is simplistic in nature, most of the action taking place in the living room built around just two couches. The simplicity throws the focus squarely on the actors, and the chemistry between Davis and Hammond is magnetic. Their connection is palpable, at times tender — intimate.

In the end, what lingers most about Selkie is its physicality. For a play about domestic violence, it finds imaginative ways to dramatise coercion and control. Yet at times it risks romanticising the relationship, softening the brutality of the subject. A more nuanced take could have pushed the work further.