Blonde Poison

Blonde Poison is a perfect indication of the strength of independent theatre in Australia: one woman on stage alone for 90 minutes. Belinda Giblin keeps the audience completely spellbound in a deeply challenging true story of the long life of Stella Goldschlag, a Jewish woman who became a Gestapo informant during WWII in an attempt to save her family from deportation. Directed by Jennifer Hagan, Blonde Poison is an richly layered piece of theatre, not just retelling one of the millions of tragic stories from the Holocaust, but using that story as a lens to examine the social contagion of evil, corruption, and the double-edged sword of beauty as Stella is both privileged and punished for her youthful good looks.

Giblin is absolutely mesmerising, presenting Stella's racism, deadly pragmatism and sorrow with such a natural ease that we can't help but be drawn to this deeply flawed character. There are some jarring moments when it is not immediately clear whether Stella is lost in a memory or talking to herself, but overall the script is sharp and painfully humanising. Sentences are cut off as unthinkable memories are abandoned, fiercely punctuated rage builds to climatic declarations of hate and helplessness — Gail Louw has crafted a masterful and troubling character study, delivered to near heartbreaking perfection by Giblin.

The set, designed by Derrick Cox, is a simple but textured playground for Giblin, with details both engaging and endearing. The lighting was overall quite effective, beginning with a homely glow, pulling tight into claustrophobic spotlights as the story unfolds. But the SS symbol projected on the back wall like wallpaper undermined a lot of the subtlety of the piece, as did the sound of a ticking clock whenever Stella looked at her watch.

As an affecting story of painful pragmatism in war, Blonde Poison is certainly good, but as a play that features the work and stories of older women, something we rarely get to see on stage in such detail, Blonde Poison is unmissable.