Review: Tell Me I’m Here is an important depiction of mental illness

Original text by Anne Deveson, adapted for the stage by Veronica Nadine Gleeson, directed by Leticia Cáceres

Review by Vaanie Krishnan

Vaanie Krishnan acknowledges the individual and collective contributions of those with a lived and living experience of mental ill-health and suicide, and those who love, have loved and care for them.

About halfway through the second act of Belvoir’s Tell Me I’m Here, Jonathan (Tom Conroy) turns to his mother Anne (Nadine Garner) and says “We don’t speak the same language, but you try…”

 This moment beautifully captures everything this play is trying to say. Based on the pioneering memoir by Anne Deveson, Tell Me I’m Here is, at its core, about a relationship between a mother and her son. A son who experiences the world differently.

With “wellbeing” now the buzzword of our time, it would be easy to think that we have shifted the dial in our understanding of mental illness, but the truth is that complex mental health issues that involve paranoia, hallucinations and psychosis remain an enigma to us.

Historically, the role of creating and advocating for those experiencing these complex behaviours has fallen to those with first-hand experience of it. People such as Anne Deveson, whose 1991 memoir and subsequent work establishing SANE, pioneered our understanding of the experience of complex mental health issues and trauma.

In Veronica Nadine Gleeson’s adaptation for the stage, Deveson’s life is retold. From Jonathan’s birth to the emergence of episodes, the cyclical ins and outs of Jonathan from Anne’s life, to his ultimate surrender. Throughout these pivotal moments, director Leticia Caceres gives Jonathan space to speak with his pen. The stage becomes a playground for Jonathan’s psychosis. Stark white to begin with, Jonathan’s chaotic mind slowly takes over the space.

In one of the opening scenes, Jonathan draws a big rectangular grave in which his birth is depicted; a visual illustration of the concept of cradle-to-grave. Caceres encourages us to see the “the writing on the wall” as it is filled with haunting faces and messages from Jonathan to his mind: “Don’t Harm Anne.” This directorial choice is profound and a worthy tribute to Deveson’s legacy, de-stigmatising illness in its own way by giving voice to Jonathan’s reality.

Conroy’s portrayal of Jonathan is hauntingly realistic, so much so that it’s shocking when he stands to bow. His physicality, command of behaviour and ability to transition through psychotic, medicated and lucid states is astounding. Each the same person and then at once markedly different, it is hard not to wonder where it is drawn from. Above all, Conroy treats Jonathan with respect and compassion and implores us to do the same.

Garner’s portrayal of Anne Deveson is stoic and desperate. Her chemistry with Conroy is beautiful to watch, but they are both let down by Gleeson’s script. The hearty research and thoughtful reflections that fill the source material do not translate here and yet, Gleeson is insistent on a re-telling. Dates sprawled throughout the dialogue hold no meaning and by the second half the play falls into a tired rhythm, exhausting its audience and relying on its two leads to drag them to the inevitable finish line. They do this remarkably well, but, with a considered edit, Gleeson could have given the emotional moments more weight. Perhaps she was constrained by trying to preserve Devesons’ original text.

 The ensemble cast do well to match the pace and intensity of the two leads, inserting moments of humour and candour that lighten the load. Sound (Steve Francis and Alyx Dennison) takes us in and out of Jonathan’s mind, to hospital waiting rooms and basement parties.

 Tell Me I’m Here is an authentic and important depiction of one family’s experience of mental illness. In a world that is ever focused on judging people for who they are at their worst moments, it pushes us to look again with compassion and humanity. With masterful performances, direction, and production, it’s a night you will remember.


Tell Me I’m Here plays at Belvoir St Theatre until 25 September. Find more information here.

It contains adult themes, scenes of violence and suicide and the use of strong language. If you or someone you know suffers from recurring, persistent or complex mental health issues and trauma, SANE provides support for sufferers, families and friends. More information can be found at sane.org.

Images by Brett Boardman

Original review published at Theatre Enthusiast AU

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