The rasping, rhythmic sound of cicadas sets the mood (hot and exotic to British ears) as we take our seats on all sides of the performance space, empty but for five wooden boxes.
In helping to conjure up a special place and atmosphere, those boxes have a lot of heavy lifting to do in this studio production… as do the five young actresses who work their socks off to deliver the strangest of tales.
And I don’t just mean their hefting of the boxes which must represent not just furniture and a horse-drawn trap but the extinct volcano known as Hanging Rock, a snaggled geological feature jutting from the landscape of central Victoria.
The place was made famous around the world by Joan Lindsay who put it at the heart of her 1967 novel telling of the mysterious disappearance of three girls on a school outing.
In the novel – and in the subsequent landmark film of 1975 and in Tom Wright’s stage adaptation - they set off for a chaperoned picnic, booted and corseted in the manner of 1900 and in accordance with the rules of their strict English headmistress, Mrs Appleyard.
There’s the promise of (relative) freedom – at one point they’ll even be permitted to remove their gloves – and, what’s more, it’s Valentine’s Day. Likely suitors might be in short supply around Mrs Appleyard’s establishment but love, nevertheless, is in the air.
The novel’s long list of characters is distilled by Wright into just so many that can be handled by a cast of five… but, boy, does it keep them on their toes.
To keep the story rolling and the plates spinning, they toss the roles between them, playing one minute the girls, in thrall to a landscape with the power to overwhelm them, and then the men of the piece.
There’s down-to-earth Albert, the driver, and Michael, the posh young Englishman who gets just a glimpse of the girls at the heart of the unfolding mystery as they’re drawn towards the Hanging Rock feature they’ve been warned is out of bounds.
Then there are the police, afterwards trying to get to the bottom of what might have happened to the girls who’ve gone missing with one of their teachers.
We, too, as audience members are kept on our toes. The dialogue comes fast and furious – somewhat at odds with the languor suggested by landscape and climate – and it ducks from first to third person.
There are occasional ‘fourth wall’-busting wry asides to the audience and, this being an ‘in the round’ production, the cast must endeavour to address all sides equally.
That they’re also affecting Aussie accents puts clarity of delivery at an absolute premium. Concentration brings its rewards but some utterances in the more hectic scenes did whizz over my head.
Conversely, there are key scenes that are riveting, particularly one where an increasingly stressed Mrs Appleyard (Ashleigh Gloyne) loses her cool with blameless orphan Sara (Lauren Urmson).
Enthusiastic applause, before no doubt they went for a lie down, was just deserts for this pair and also Oryssa Sahota, Ashton Matthews and Abii Smith, and for director Matthew Hope for taking on a challenge of volcanic proportions.
And also for Emily Jeffrey for a soundscape which takes us from autumnal Newcastle to summer Australia while subtly cranking up the magic and mystery key to the unfolding narrative.
Picnic at Hanging Rock runs until Saturday, October 17 in the People’s Theatre Studio. Tickets from the box office.