Step one when securing my seat for Griffin Theatre Company’s revival of The Elocution of Benjamin Franklin was to look up what “elocution” actually meant. Because, while I was vaguely familiar with one of the founding fathers of the USA, I was less knowledgeable about a word that I initially thought was a spelling mistake for injury by electric shock.
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!With an understanding that the phrase in fact referred to the art of formal speaking – pronunciation, grammar, style, tone – and the pursuit of effective speech, I settled in for a performance that (I assumed) would deliver a Hamilton-esque performance on the linguistics the most famous Kite-and-Key experiment in history.
However, an opening scene of the male lead prancing nearly naked to David Bowie’s The Jean Genie quickly proved I was wrong. Instead, the two-hourish stage monologue that followed quickly dispelled my assumptions and instead transported me into the world of Robert O’Brien, a 56-year-old elocution teacher in Sydney’s Double Bay, and his 12-year-old student, Benjamin Franklin. But, I was not disappointed
Had I perhaps done a little background research, I might have been better prepared. This landmark Australian play, first staged in 1976, has now returned to Belvoir St Theatre for its 50th anniversary – the very stage where it premiered – with Simon Burke (whose theatre credits include Les Miserables, Chicago, Mary Poppins and Wicked) stepping into the legendary role first made famous by Gordon Chater.
Commanding the stage with a brave performance that is at once comedic, heartbreaking, and disarmingly candid, Burke introduces us to the main character of Robert O’Brien – in what may be one of the most confronting opening sequences I’ve ever encountered: Burke makes his entrance naked – bar a pink feather boa draped over his shoulders, stockings and suspenders in place, and a poster of Mick Jagger in hand. It’s provocative, hilarious, and immediately sets the tone for a play that asks audiences to confront the private and performative facets of identity.
O’Brien lives a double life. By day, he’s the suit-and-tie elocutionist teaching children to tame lisps and stammers; by night, he dons female attire, embraces his theatrical impulses, and shares these secret moments with his married stockbroker friend, Bruce. The arrival of 12-year-old Benjamin Franklin, a bright and precocious pupil with his own secrets, sparks a dangerous and complex tension that escalates to devastating consequences. Through it all, Burke navigates O’Brien’s humour, pathos, and fragility with remarkable precision.
Director Declan Greene keeps the narrative tight and the pacing electric. Even with O’Brien’s moments of reflection or melodrama, there is never a dull moment. Burke’s mastery of voice and character is extraordinary: he seamlessly switches between accents, tones, and emotional registers, bringing every facet of O’Brien’s persona to life, whether he’s gossipping, mocking, or breaking down. There’s wit, there’s warmth, and there’s an unflinching honesty that makes the character profoundly human.
While some of the language and attitudes from the 1970s might feel outdated – O’Brien calls himself “The Transvestite Terror of Double Bay,” for example – the play’s exploration of social ostracism, sexual and political intolerance, and the cost of denying one’s true voice is more resonant than ever. Watching O’Brien face threats to his identity and freedom feels chillingly relevant in today’s climate, reminding us that tolerance and empathy remain hard-won.
At its core, The Elocution of Benjamin Franklin isn’t just about speech – it’s about expression, courage, and the peril of living in a society that punishes difference. Burke’s performance turns these themes into an intimate, gripping experience. For 100-or-so minutes, the performance captivated, confronted and ultimately moved us.
Whether you’re returning to a piece of Australian theatre history or discovering it for the first time like me, this production is a testament to the enduring brilliance of Steve J. Spears’ writing and the virtuosity of Simon Burke. It’s bold, it’s brilliant, and it will stay with you long after the curtain falls.
The Elocution of Benjamin Franklin is running untit until 29 March 2026 at the Downstairs Theatre, Belvoir St Theatre, Sydney. To mark the 50th anniversary of the landmark Australian play Hotel Indigo Sydney Potts Point has also launched a special “Stay & Show” package in partnership with the Griffin Theatre Company
