Review: The Shepherd’s Hut at Heath Ledger Theatre

The Shepherd’s Hut at Heath Ledger Theatre
Wednesday, May 13, 2026

Black Swan State Theatre Company brought the world premiere of The Shepherd’s Hut to Heath Ledger Theatre this month, an adaptation of Tim Winton’s best-selling novel written by Tim McGarry and directed by Matt Edgerton. Set on the mulga shrublands between the Wheatbelt and the desert, with the blurred smudge of Mount Magnet indistinct somewhere over the horizon, this was a quintessentially Western Australian piece that understood and even revelled in its unique sense of place.

This uniqueness started from the opening moments of the production after the house lights went down. What had looked beforehand as the oft-expected lightly shaded timber atop the stage was actually several centimetres of sand bound by framing. A wonderful allegory for connection to land, bringing country to a city theatre in the most literal sense, this staging decision also subtly softened what was to come—the darker topics and heightened emotions ahead may have played differently with a harsher surface underfoot.

Teenager Jaxie Clackton (Ryan Hodson), on the run from troubles in his past with only the vaguest idea of any future ahead, stumbled across the shepherd’s hut of the title, where Catholic priest Fintan MacGillis (George Shevtsov) had been unceremoniously parked by the church for the better part of a decade. Here on the edge of the world, miles from the nearest sealed road, Fintan did not appear hidden away per se but much more likely to have been conveniently forgotten. Supply runs were begrudgingly provided, annually for both Easter and Christmas, but other than that, the priest had been left to his own counsel.

The core of the piece was therefore established as Jaxie and Fintan circled and assessed each other, a slow dance across the stage. The older man, seemingly self-assured in his bushcraft, on first impressions was almost relaxed as he weighed the boy in front of him. The teenager coiled tightly like a spring, taut with extreme tension, and ready to snap or explode at the slightest provocation.

These two were joined on stage by Ben Mortley and Ella Prince, providing chorus and various secondary characters, and the cast was complete. The relationship between the central duo—wary to begin with, accepting as time progressed—remained paramount, while the chorus provided much of the exposition and internal monologues from the source material, primarily from Jaxie’s point of view. This aspect of the work, the audience taken deep into the protagonists’ inner thoughts, was especially well constructed, a place where some adaptations can struggle.

Shevtsov gave a fabulously electrifying performance as Fintan. Whether by singing The Wild Colonial Boy deliberately off-key, the heartfelt descriptions of salt lakes and surrounding landscape his character had fallen in love with, or the secrets and demons held deeply within Fintan’s soul, the audience were captivated by the jagged authenticity Shevtsov brought forth.

Whereas Shevtsov played his role as measured and well within capacity, Hodson presented Jaxie to the stage with all the directness of a cyclone, most every emotion a hair trigger away from the surface. The complete contrast in the two characters’ worldviews was surely deliberate—the youth desperate to tear everything down and start over, the old man bent to the prevailing winds—and their reactions to what they had both endured were equally differentiated by their age.

At times when the primaries were in deep discussion, the chorus curled in on themselves and quietened, replaced by a musical score that was light, gentle, yet insistent. Hot as a furnace or cold as the grave, unchanged for millennia, this corner of the country and its palpable sense of isolation scraped away all trivia to examine the deepest of mysteries. Amongst a plethora of Catholic symbolism in the piece, across communion, confession, and the crucifixion, the characters even queried the existence of God directly.

A contemplation on the effects of trauma, the promise of belief, and how these are engaged with by men at different ages, The Shepherd’s Hut was a powerful exploration of these themes, wonderfully scripted, acted, and presented. The world inhabited therein, both timeless and just a few hours’ drive from tonight’s venue, was vividly brought to life by words, a stage full of sand, and a fully committed cast and crew.

PAUL MEEK

Photos by Philip Gostelow