Sadie Hasler’s ‘Pramkicker’, co-directed by Amy Ingram and Nerida Matthaei, is a sharp, irreverent, and thought-provoking two-hander that explores womanhood, motherhood, and sisterhood with biting humour and emotional depth.
The play follows sisters Jude and Susie as they navigate the complexities of modern life, personal trauma, and societal expectations, all within the context of a seemingly minor incident – Jude kicking over a pram in a moment of rage.
'Pramkicker' explores the pressure placed on women to conform to traditional roles, particularly motherhood. Jude, in her late 30s, is fiercely independent, unapologetically single, and adamantly child-free. She’s sarcastic, intelligent, and angry – but her anger is never unfounded. After being provoked by a smug mother at a café, she lashes out by kicking the woman’s pram, which lands her in court-mandated anger management classes.
The production by MO Theatre sucks you in from the beginning, with the entrance to the intimate DOOR 3 theatre setting lined with babysitting ads, kids drawing, and – yes – prams – so it feels like you’re entering a community hall. This feeling is further enhanced as you’re offered cordial and bickies, with clusters of nervous audience members standing around awkwardly before the start of the play – just as they would if waiting for a real anger management sharing circle to begin.
Image © Morgan Roberts
The two sisters are perfectly cast, and while writer Sadie Hasler is from the UK, the play sounds quintessentially Australian. The language, the swearing, the refusal to take things too seriously, it’s all very Queensland. Beneath the banter though lies a deep well of emotion. Jude’s cynicism is clearly rooted in past trauma, and the play gradually peels back the layers of her guarded persona to reveal painful truths about sexual assault, disillusionment, and the alienation that often comes with defying social norms. The pacing is tight, balancing levity with moments of stillness and introspection that give weight to the characters' emotional journeys.
Staging and set (Ada Lukin) is minimal, keeping the focus on character development and the raw emotion busting to be confronted. The lighting (Christine Felmingham) is great – and pretty much a character of its own. That and the choice to use slow-motion in some scenes allows the characters’ monologues of their feelings and inner thoughts space to breathe and settle with the audience.
One of the play’s greatest strengths is its refusal to moralise. It doesn’t tell the audience which sister is 'right' or what choices women should make – it simply lays out the complexities, contradictions, and personal histories that shape those choices.
