In a moment of serendipitous timing, Alana Valentine’s Nucleus arrives at the Seymour Centre just as nuclear power emerges as a heated election issue.
Yet this intimate two-hander, which we are assured was written years before the policy debates before us now, delves far deeper than political discourse.
Performed on a minimalist egg-shaped stage at the Seymour Centre (while Griffin’s usual home, the SBW Stables, undergoes renovation), Nucleus follows the complex entanglement of a seemingly entirely incompatible pair: the staunchly anti-nuclear activist Cassie Logart (Paula Arundell) and the nuclear engineer Gabriel Hulst (Peter Kowitz). Their unlikely relationship evolves into a compelling exploration of how our beliefs shape our connections with others. Valentine’s script navigates the space between political conviction and personal attraction, never allowing either to overwhelm the other.
Alana Valentine’s script is very well written, but some aspects felt somewhat cliched. Additionally, whilst not a flaw, it is worth noting that the script may not be accessible to some audiences looking for a tale of romance. This is primarily due to the extensive references to nuclear physics and allusions to the various debates surrounding Australia’s nuclear program – including Lucas Heights and the Commonwealth’s once-proposed nuclear sites in Jervis Bay. On the other hand, this might make the show more captivating for some audiences, as these elements are very well researched and expertly integrated in the plot.
Arundell’s performance brings authenticity to Cassie, crafting a character whose environmental convictions run deep, yet doesn’t descend into a two-dimensional caricature. Opposite her, Kowitz’s Gabriel radiates a keen passion for nuclear power that makes his position, if not always convincing, feel sincere. The chemistry between Arundell and Kowitz features moments of both tenderness and tension, making their characters richly developed and their relationship believable, even as their significant ideological differences seem insurmountable.
Director Andrea James embraced stripped-back staging at the Seymour Centre, allowing the performers’ incredible energy to fill the space. Without the strength of the cast and script, the space may have felt far too empty. Instead, the minimalist set design focuses attention where it truly belongs – on Valentine’s superb writing and Arundell and Kowitz’s magnificent performances. Lighting and the visual effects (designed by Verity Hampson and Laura Turner, respectively) effectively creates different locations and moods, though it’s the performers who take us between protest sites and private moments.
While the script presents both sides of the debate, it feels to lean slightly towards the anti-nuclear position. At any rate, it is the personal aspects of Nucleus, rather than the political, that proves most engaging. Valentine has crafted a work that uses the nuclear debate as a lens to examine how we navigate relationships across ideological divides – a theme that feels increasingly relevant in our polarized times.
Nucleus is an excellent example of Griffin’s continued commitment to contemporary Australian theatre. The fact that Nucleus’ central debate has suddenly become a major policy discussion point adds an unplanned layer of resonance, though the production’s strength lies in its timeless exploration of how we connect despite our differences. In an age of echo chambers and tribal politics, Nucleus reminds us that the most challenging conversations often happen not across picket lines, but across pillows. While it offers no easy answers about nuclear power or love, it compellingly demonstrates how both can generate unexpected chain reactions.
