Peter Paltos and Bailey Ackling Beecham bring an affecting chemistry, built on a tension that sits somewhere along seduction and resistance. Their characters circle one another with a mixture of fascination and discomfort, and the actors maintain that equilibrium with poise. The result is a volatile entanglement, where magnetism and hesitation are never quite separate.
Paul and Jasmine participate in incisive verbal sparring as they navigate their relationship, delving into gender politics, control, and generational differences. Fallen demonstrates a deft touch in crafting these naturalistic dialogues, giving them distinct voices while making their mutual instant thirst for each other entirely believable. She keeps the power between Paul and Jasmine deliberately fluid. At times one person has the upper hand, and then the roles suddenly reverse, keeping their bond unpredictable and layered. Her writing provides the foundations for the emotional stakes and the performers’ rapport to shine.
The script occasionally feels as though it is still finding its footing with conversations resolving abruptly, or ideas being introduced but not fully followed through. At one point Paul reflects that he considered transitioning as a teenager but was not brave enough to pursue it, yet this revelation is not revisited or unpacked. Similarly, the vom-com concept of an “obsessive appetite for infected skin,” with the dominance that accompanies it, is fertile ground that could have been developed further.
There are instances where the trans rhetoric appears to be raised more for the sake of being voiced than organically flowing into the plot. When Jasmine argues that Paul does not want to be seen with her at a work function because she is trans, the script has already stated a different reason, namely the professional optics of them attending this party together. Several monologues struggle to justify their place, mainly in Jasmine’s customer service re-enactments and Paul’s recitations of his latest fragrance ingredients.They imbue detail and colour, but they do little to advance the story. In turn, the momentum sometimes drifts, wishing more time was spent on the unusual and captivating dynamic between the pair.
Director Justin Nott use the stage effectively, with Harry Gill’s marble-top counter serving multiple purposes, from store counter to bed to kitchen bench. This versatile design shapes the push-and-pull between Paul and Jasmine, keeping their exchanges constantly charged. It keeps the actors at the centre of the action and ties the play’s changing locations together, guiding how the characters move, interact, and inhabit each space.
Nott handles the intimacy with attention and precision, building the sexual intensity early with conversations situated in close physical proximity. The sex scenes, supported by Emma Lockhart-Wilson’s expressive lighting, convey passion without relying on explicit body contact, demonstrating a keen understanding of suggestion and theatricality. He allows the emotional and psychological weight of this yearning to take primary focus, balancing closeness, restraint, and longing so that the audience feels the heat even in periods of physical absence.
Mature Skin is a production that asks us to lean in to the tensions, contradictions, and intimacies it presents. While the narrative slightly wanders at times, its interrogation of who holds power and whose desire counts, offers a perspective on trans experience that is grounded and human while remaining accessible to the audience. Strong performances, carefully observed direction, and imaginative staging ensures that the work is compelling in its exploration of the spaces people occupy as they negotiate comfort in their own skin.
Show Details
Venue: Northcote Town Hall, 189 High St, Northcote
Season: Until 22 Mar | Wed - Sat 7.30pm, Sun 5pm
Duration: 70 mins
Tickets: $38 Full | $30 Conc
Bookings: Darebin Arts
Images credit: Gregory Lorenzutti
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