How much of what we present to the world is performance and how much is our authentic self? This question sits at the heart of The Elevator, Eloise Snape’s smart, funny and surprisingly affecting new play at Sydney’s Ensemble Theatre.
Crisis mode
Just one day after giving birth, tech company CEO Margot (Leeanna Walsman) returns to work to deal with a corporate public relations crisis. One of her company’s AI-operated cars has struck a pedestrian, leaving the victim critically injured in hospital. Before she can confront the media storm waiting on the 48th floor, Margot steps into the office lift where she is joined by Alison (Shirong Wu), an eager but flustered crisis management specialist, and Ollie (Di Adams), who appears to work in building maintenance.
Then the lift stops.
What follows is an engaging 90 minutes in which the three women are forced to share an increasingly uncomfortable space while waiting for help. As time passes and tension mounts, professional facades begin to crack, revealing the anxieties, vulnerabilities and expectations each woman has been carrying.
All three performances are excellent, but Wu is particularly memorable. Alison’s nervous energy and involuntary bursts of hysterical laughter as the situation spirals further out of control are wonderfully judged, providing some of the play’s biggest laughs while never tipping into caricature. Walsman brings quiet intensity to Margot, capturing the impossible balancing act between projecting competence and privately struggling under immense emotional and physical strain, while Adams offers an understated performance that gradually reveals more depth than first appears.
Close quarters
As someone who is mildly claustrophobic, I found my own anxiety rising in tandem with the characters’. With nothing more than a simple lift set, the production relies almost entirely on its script and performances to sustain momentum. Credit must go to playwright Eloise Snape and director Anthea Williams for creating a work that remains compelling throughout despite its physical limitations.
The play also strikes a deeply personal note. Anyone who has reluctantly returned to work after parental leave may find aspects of Margot’s experience unexpectedly confronting. The emotional tug-of-war between being perceived as both a caring mother and an unflappable professional feels painfully authentic. My friend and I both found ourselves transported back to our own post-partum experiences, recalling both the joys and the difficulties of that period.
What lies beneath
Beyond motherhood, however, The Elevator explores another timely theme: the gap between what is presented as truth and what is actually true. In an age of public relations, carefully managed messaging and so-called fake news, its questions about narrative, image and authenticity feel particularly relevant.
Thought-provoking, funny and emotionally perceptive, The Elevator proves that you don’t need elaborate sets or theatrical spectacle to create an engrossing evening. Sometimes all it takes is three outstanding actors, a sharp script and a lift that refuses to move.
The Elevator
Ensemble Theatre
Until 18 October, 2027
ensemble.com.au
