Horse Play | Nathaniel Crossinggum & Lunch Friend
Image: Georgia Haupt
I hope I don’t sound hyperbolic when I say this, but Horse Play might be the best original play to come out of Magandjin in the past ten years. As I waited in the audience, Saddle Club theme playing softly in the background, I found myself wondering what I was actually in for—I’d avoided marketing or conversations surrounding the play (difficult to do when so many people in my life were raving about it), so I knew little other than the basic premise: a protest interrupting the Melbourne Cup. By the time the show finished, I was wiping away tears, still unsure of what I’d just seen but certain of one thing: writer Nathaniel Crossinggum is an artistic voice that’s here to stay.
Following punter Georgie as she is dragged into activist Pony’s impending bomb plot targeting the Melbourne Cup, Horse Play is an exploration of the intersection between protest, obligation, and fear, unpacking this venn diagram so thoroughly that by the end, you’ll be wondering why you’re not doing more. I’ll refrain from any explicit plot discussion so as to not spoil the many twists and turns that Horse Play has in store for audiences, but I’d like to take a moment to praise the work's writing and structure. Jokes flow into monologues with ease, and moments of synchronised dance transform into Malcolm X quotes in a way that somehow feels entirely logical; this balance of humour and self-seriousness is hugely impressive, and at no point during the runtime of the play did I feel that this balance was off. Even beyond this, these moments are intercut with some genuinely distressing sequences—one in which the audience are taken through the process of putting down a racehorse step by step particularly struck me. Horse Play hits just about every emotion possible, and does so with a deftness and subtlety that should be commended.
In discussing Horse Play, it cannot be overstated how much I appreciated the performances from everyone involved. Each character occupies a completely distinct space, with no filler deliveries to be found; each performer has found a wholly unique way to tackle the source material, furthering the quiltlike thematic nature of the work. Edith Malcomson’s naive Georgie is perfectly contrasted by Stella Petersen’s staunch Pony, with the two characters ebbing and flowing between being at odds and on the same side throughout the course of the play. In turn, Henry Solomon’s Harry is a delightfully straightforward comedic foil, bringing a Lano & Woodley-esque energy to the stage. Having spoken a little about each of the more conventional characters, I’d like to also highlight Tenielle Plunkett’s work as Commentator—existing in a third space between stage and audience, Plunkett fully embodies the implike Commentator with ease. Simultaneously malicious and empathetic, the Commentator helps to bridge the various worlds of Horse Play, and without Plunkett’s performance I’m not sure these worlds would feel quite as cohesive.
An endorsement of direct action through any means necessary, Horse Play is one of the more explicitly political works I’ve seen in some time. Taking cues from playwrights like Churchill and Hampton, Crossinggum has here created a work that treats the radical path with a respect and intellectual honesty that is difficult to find in most left-wing art. Gone is the obligatory far-left antagonist who’s mostly right but does one murder too many—Horse Play instead treats direct action as the moral obligation of anyone observing injustice.
“It’s not nice, it’s not fair, but change rarely is.”
This line from Pony reads to me as the thesis statement of the work—an understanding of the moral murkiness of radical politics, while still bearing the responsibility of doing the right thing no matter the circumstances.
On a technical level, Horse Play is immaculate; effective set design and lighting combined with a fully integrated use of sound and score bring an immersive, genuine quality to the play, helping to ease the transition into some of the play’s more surrealist segments. On this surrealist note, the play concludes with the incorporation of a lush mixed-media animation sequence projected onto the stage, cutting between hand drawn animation and archival footage to create a video sequence that could exist comfortably as its own work. As if this weren’t enough, the play also features a huge puppet of a dead horse god (between this and The Natural Horse, there must be something in the water)—simultaneously hilarious and horrifying, this puppetry sequence is yet another feather in the stylistic cap that Horse Play wears, and left me totally absorbed.
Horse Play’s run at Backbone is over by the time I’m writing this review, but I have the distinct feeling that we’ll be seeing it staged again and again across Australian stages over the next few years. I feel like I’ve just seen the next Moth or Boy Girl Wall, and I’m ready for the wave of “Horse Play-core” plays that I hope this recent run has sparked. I cannot commend this team enough for their work, and hope to see the work on a much larger stage some time soon.
Horse Play played at The Ron Hurley Theatre, Seven Hills Hub, 28 Tallowwood Street, Seven Hills on Thursday 9th, Friday 24th, and Saturday 25th of October 2025.
