Radhika Mudaliyar brings restless energy to Isha, a slightly naive and yet determined teenager desperate to escape her rural surroundings to see the real world and follow her dreams of being a scientist. Her portrayal of a young woman torn between honouring the past and embracing the future is compelling and layered, and her chemistry with Nadie Kammallaweera as her mother is genuinely heartfelt and believable, adding a tender layer to their complicated relationship.
Kammallaweera is utterly captivating as Nirmala, giving one of the most engrossing performances I have seen this year. As the head of the village council, she embodies the passion of a woman whose heart and soul are bound to the valley, and the anxiety and despair that overtake her as she realises the devastation that is heading towards her community. Every emotion, every hurt and every burst of joy is expressed through her entire body. It's a depiction full of conviction and vulnerability.
While Nirmala clings to tradition and resists modernisation, Vaishnavi Suryaprakash’s Lakshmi stands in as a stark contrast. Working for an American backed company, she champions innovation and the construction of dams, becoming a voice for progress, but not without cost. Her subtle manipulation of both Nirmala and Isha, along with her selective truths and persuasive charisma, cast her as a quietly formidable antagonist. It's fascinating watching Suryaprakash slowly reveal her true colours.
Manali Datar delivers a strong performance as Isha's teacher and a supporter of Nirmala's activism. She balances the dramatic stakes of the narrative with a centred presence, acting as a stabilising force in the midst of rising tensions (and water).
What makes Shakthidharan’s writing so affecting is not just that it centres four Indian women - which is rare enough on our stages - but that these identities are incidental to the unfolding of the parable’s emotional truth. The characters are complex, fully realised people first, and that allows for a far-reaching resonance when they discuss the future of the planet and the urgency of the situation they are in.
Subramanyam's set design however, feels somewhat sparse and cold. For a story rooted in the land and staged by a riverside village, the absence of greenery or lushness of nature makes it hard to feel immersed in the environment. Some visual cues could have helped root us more firmly in this world.
On the other hand, Steve Francis’ sound design impressively builds a rich aural landscape through organic environmental sounds. Sabyasachi (Rahul) Bhattacharya’s compositions provide an effective cultural anchor, adding depth and texture to the women’s experiences and the broader themes at play.
While the narrative contains moments of significant tension and drama that are brilliantly directed by Shakthidharan and Hannah Goodwin, a climactic machete fight - though choreographed with flair by Nigel Poulton - leans a bit too heavily into melodrama. A more grounded, physical confrontation without weapons might have left a stronger impression and allowed the following scenes to resonate with greater realism. Still, this is a minor critique in a story that knows how to draw its audience in and leave them wanting more.
The Wrong Gods is a remarkable, thoughtful look at what happens when tradition and change collide. With solid performances and a plot focused on real people facing tough decisions, it forces us to reckon with how our actions are reshaping the planet, sometimes for better, often for worse. It’s a reminder that the world around us isn’t just changing; it’s crumbling from the impact of our choices. This play may take place in one village, but its story is about all of us.
SHOW DETAILS
Venue: Arts Centre Melbourne, 100 St Kilda Rd, Melbourne
Season: until 12 July | Mon - Tues 6.30pm, Wed - Sat 7:30pm. Sst 2:00pm, Sun
Duration:
90 minutes
Tickets: $56 - $123
Bookings: Melbourne Theatre Company
Images credit: Brett Boardman
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