The Removalists by David Williamson

First published: 1972

First produced: 1971, at Café La Mama, Melbourne, Australia

Type of plot: Social realism

Time of work: The 1960’s

Locale: Australia

Principal Characters:

• Sergeant Dan Simmonds, and
• Constable Neville Ross, policemen
• Kate Mason, a suburban housewife (originally Kate Le Page)
• Fiona Carter, a young married woman, Kate’s sister
• Kenny Carter, Fiona’s husband
• Rob (The Removalist), a furniture mover

The Play

Violence dominates The Removalists but does so in a way that borders on the comic and the absurd. Act 1 opens in a Melbourne police substation, which is described as “having an air of [decrepit] inefficiency.” Ross, an enthusiastic rookie policeman, has just reported for his first day of duty, only to meet a jaded veteran, Sergeant Simmonds, who is to be his superior and mentor. At first, the dialogue appears aimless, but a pattern soon forms as the sergeant explains to his new assistant the essence of police work: to do as little as possible but always to maintain the delicate balance on which control rests. Wanting to respond in a pleasing manner, the young man tells Simmonds that “you’ve got to be trained for all eventualities in this rapidly changing world.” To this Simmonds replies, “Nothing changes in this world, boy.” The sergeant then relates, with obvious pleasure, a story about another idealistic rookie who made himself ridiculous when he mistook some innocent fun for a gang rape; this recollection is only one among several hints that brutality and violence surround the substation, indeed permeate all aspects of life.

Just as their exchange begins to seem tedious, two young women interrupt. Fiona, accompanied by her sister Kate, has come to the police station to report her husband, who beat her the previous night for not emptying the kitchen garbage. Simmonds handles the complaint with mock seriousness, stating pompously, “Yes. It’s pretty terrifying when the family unit becomes a seat of violence.” To prove his concern, he asks Fiona to expose her bruises, which he inspects, as the stage directions say, “slowly and lasciviously”; he then tells Ross to photograph the bruises for evidence. By now he has, through his lechery, created a sexual tension between himself and the victim’s sister, who is enjoying the other woman’s humiliation. In the hope that he might take advantage of Kate’s apparent interest in him, Simmonds offers his and Ross’s assistance to “the removalists”—furniture movers, that is—whom Fiona has engaged for the next evening. Reassured by their call on society’s protectors, the women leave.

As the second act opens, Fiona and her husband exchange insults until Kate arrives, soon followed by one furniture mover. Before long the policemen, Simmonds and Ross, rush into the center of the room and unintentionally perform a sight gag or two; for one thing, Ross accidentally handcuffs himself. The action then alternates between comic scenes and the brutal onstage beating of Fiona’s husband, Kenny, who has been handcuffed to a door. The wife beater, however, turns out to be likable, though crude and skilled in the art of the insult. At his best when verbally assaulting his sister-in-law, he takes special pleasure in recounting her alleged sexual promiscuity. The removalist adds his share of comedy, as he and Ross carry out furniture. Kate and the sergeant discuss his wife’s “twenty-seven kidney fits,” the private schooling of Kate’s three children, and other mundane family matters.

The brutality that punctuates these and other exchanges begins with restraint—just a punch or two by the sergeant against handcuffed Kenny. The attacks then build gradually into a frenzy of brutality against the helpless man, while no one onstage displays concern or offers assistance. The audience cannot generate much sympathy, for the brutality, while real enough, remains—strange as it may seem—quite in keeping with the comic slice of life.

Once the sisters and the removalist leave the former husband and the policemen, the spirited Kenny, who has taken all the abuse in stride, finally loses control and starts insulting Ross. Going berserk, the young policeman throws himself at Kenny, now free of handcuffs. For the first time, Kenny shows fear; he runs into the kitchen, followed by Ross. Crashes and thuds from the kitchen fill the air, yet Simmonds stands, offering no help, only grinning to himself. Once Ross has spent his fury on Kenny, he enters alone, hysterical, and announces that he has killed him. While the two men debate how to handle their predicament, Kenny comes out of the kitchen, much to their relief. The reprieve, though, is short-lived, for the hapless victim soon dies from a concussion. At this point, Ross attacks Simmonds, screaming, “Hit me where it bruises. Go on Serg! You know how to bruise a man! Go on!” The final stage directions read: “Ross advances on Simmonds, attacking him viciously. Simmonds fights back. As the play closes the fight almost takes on the air of a frenzied ritual of exorcism.”

Dramatic Devices

In spite of its absurdist elements, The Removalists is a realistic play structurally. This quality heightens the action, so that what takes place—the senseless, fatal beating of a man—appears to be altogether natural within the course of events. Even the violent action occurs for the most part onstage. If the play had forsaken the dramatic devices of realistic setting, ordinary characters, comedy, and everyday language, it would have lost much of its impact as a modern allegory pointing up the ubiquity and consequences of violence.

The two locales, the police station and the couple’s apartment, are both drab and colorless, and they serve effectively as backgrounds to lives that are just the same. However, all the characters emerge as individuals in their own right who show fear, longing, weakness, strength, foolish pride, and other qualities of everyday people. There is, for example, the removalist’s inflated attitude toward his work, as he reminds everyone repeatedly that his time is important: After all, he has “ten thousand dollars worth of machinery tickin’ over out there.” Similarly, Sergeant Simmonds displays his hypocrisy over sexual matters, Kate her pretentiousness, and Ross his fear of discovering an evil force that will destroy his idealism.

The well-paced, sharply etched dialogue—complete with one-liners, obscenity, clever insults, and sexual innuendoes—helps to carry the theme, elaborate on it, and accent it. The playwright’s major tool is language, and in this play it is appropriately colored by violent tones. Throughout, the characters threaten one another in the crudest and most brutal ways. For example, Kenny tells the removalist, “Look. Piss off or I’ll spray the back of your throat with teeth”; later he threatens to “hammer the bastard.” Simmonds warns Kenny that he will “crack” or “split” his “bloody skull.” The language describing male-female relationships also verges on brutality. Women are consistently called “tarts,” “bikes,” and “bitches.” The battered wife tells her husband: “Well, it hardly inspires confidence when you’re made love to one minute and bashed up the next.” Later, Kenny explains that in the past a man gained respect from his wife by beating her at least once a week. At another point, Kate asks Simmonds what he will do if she refuses to follow his orders: “Chain me to the bloody door and rape me?”

Had the dramatic devices of action, setting, character, comedy, and language been used differently, The Removalists could well have turned into a tedious and didactic work rather than what it is: one that expresses with power and conviction the dilemma created by the violent nature of human beings.

Critical Context

The Removalists is David Williamson’s second play and his first successful one, and it demonstrates a firm hold on what constitutes effective drama, especially the delicate balance between comedy and seriousness. In the plays and television and film scripts that have followed, Williamson has continued to maintain and strengthen this keen understanding of theatrical convention. He has also retained the conviction that drama can carry ideas and provide entertainment at the same time. His later plays place believable characters in ordinary settings and provide them with forceful dialogue and action that makes subtle comments on human nature. The Department (pr. 1974, pb. 1975) examines bureaucracy, The Club (pr. 1977, pb. 1978) exposes corruption in professional sports, and Travelling North (pr. 1979, pb. 1980) looks at the process of aging. Human relationships are examined in What If You Died Tomorrow (pr. 1973, pb. 1974) and The Perfectionist (pr. 1982, pb. 1983), and Emerald City (pr., pb. 1987) takes up the consequences of fame.

An Australian writer, Williamson draws from his own experience and sets his plays firmly within the Australian context, remaining faithful to his country’s geography, place names, cultural heritage, customs, and social mores. In particular, he makes full use of the Australian vernacular in dialogue. During an interview, Williamson noted that “of all the art forms, drama is the most parochial,” explaining that plays come from a “particular tribe”; he added, however, “The very best of that tribal writing transcends the boundaries of that tribe.” Certainly this has proven true with Williamson’s work, for it not only has earned for him a place as Australia’s most respected and popular dramatist but also has gained for him a wide audience abroad. For example, The Removalists, so acclaimed at home because of its pure Australianness, met with great success in Poland when performed there as a protest against the government’s oppressive rule.

Sources for Further Study

Carroll, Dennis. “David Williamson.” In Australian Contemporary Drama. Rev. ed. Sydney, Australia: Currency Press, 1995.

Fitzpatrick, Peter. Williamson. North Ryde, Australia: Methuen, 1987.

Holloway, Peter, ed. Contemporary Australian Drama: Perspectives Since 1955. Sydney, Australia: Currency Press, 1987.

Kiernan, Brian. “The Games People Play: The Development of David Williamson.” Southerly 35 (1975): 315-329.

McCallum, John. “A New Map for Australia: The Plays of David Williamson.” Australian Literary Studies, May, 1984.

Moe, Christian H. “David Williamson.” In Contemporary Dramatists. 6th ed. Detroit: St. James, 1999.

Rees, Leslie. The Making of Australian Drama. Sydney, Australia: Angus & Robertson, 1973.

Williamson, David. Interview with Ray Willbanks. Antipodes 2 (Winter, 1988): 104-106.