Making use of the Sydney Theatre Company’s Actors Company along with students from the National Institute of Dramatic Art, Jamieson has an extensive ensemble from which to draw a diverse range of characters. There is no doubt the performances are measured and well thought out, even though there is a large degree of physical movement and most actors have to play several roles over the course of the production.

For an event that is held in collective (though not living) memory as such a watershed event in our national history, there is always the danger that any sort of interpretation of the Gallipoli story may fall into the trap of myth-making. Fortunately, Jamieson’s production refrains from such moments for the most part, only lapsing into such dictums during the battle scenes in the second half.

A curious melange of pantomime, slapstick and wartime drama, at first Gallipoli seems confused in its purpose and message. After cutting backwards and forwards rather haphazardly between a jovial song and dance number and a battlefield scene, the production begins to hit its stride as the humour gently plays off the absurdity of the historical situation – the tales of Kitchener, the follies of generals.

Certainly, the non-textual elements of the production are incredibly well done; the lighting direction makes extensive and creative use of projections, casting images over the back wall and simulating the intensity of gun and artillery fire. The set design is another achievement, using the expanse of empty space to maximum advantage. Trapdoors appear out of nowhere, and during one scene over half the stage is opened up to reveal the actors popping out from underneath it.

However the dialogue and narrative itself seem a little confused – changing between characters telling the story and chopping in and out of the linear timeline. To some extent this works in reflecting the calamity of the civilian and military situation, but at other times it’s all simply too much for the audience to take in. There are some awkward moments as the production tries to provide the perspective of the Turkish troops involved in the battle, and the role of Ataturk is mostly brushed over.

Jamieson’s interpretation is heavily swayed towards the Australian perspective (perhaps understandably so given the audience and the gravity lent to the event from a domestic point of view) and to an extent this does detract from the objective historical bent that this production might have taken.

Even so, this interpretation of Gallipoli is as much about entertainment as it is about a historical lesson and, despite its misgivings, it certainly delivers on this front.

Image of Alec Campbell used by kind permission of the Campbell family and Sydney Theatre Company.