Amidst a theatre landscape often dominated by predictable narratives, The Axe in the Ceiling stands out, blending absurdity, humour, and deep reflection. Adapted from the Grimm Brothers’ tale Clever Else, Jaya Berged reimagines the story through a distinctly Indian lens, delving into the modern complexities of arranged marriage against a backdrop of cultural and familial expectations.
The play centres around Chhaya and Hunar, a newly arranged couple, as they navigate the often tumultuous waters of love, family, and personal identity. Berged’s keen character development and use of symbolism breathe new life into these familiar themes. Objects like the titular axe in the ceiling and a bird net in a cornfield act as metaphors for unresolved conflicts and external pressures. These symbols prompt audiences to reflect on the challenges we face in our relationships—whether with family, partners, or even with ourselves.
Absurdity and realism are in perfect balance throughout The Axe in the Ceiling. The whimsical moments keep the audience laughing, while the grounded reflections offer space for introspection. This fusion ensures the play remains entertaining while still provoking thought, enabling audiences to engage with deeper themes without feeling overwhelmed.
While playful in tone, the play doesn’t shy away from emotional complexity. The characters’ journeys are rich with growth and transformation, showing that even in surreal circumstances, there is room for connection, understanding, and hope. Whether you’re drawn to the humour, the introspective reflections, or the fresh take on relationships, The Axe in the Ceiling offers something for everyone.
Ahead of its October 2024 staging at The Motley Bauhaus in Carlton, The Indian Sun caught up with Jaya Berged to discuss her creative process and the evolution of her unique adaptation. Excerpts:
Adapting a Grimm Brothers tale to an Indian context is quite unique. What inspired you to choose Clever Else for this contemporary Indian love story?
I first came across the story of Clever Else about ten years ago, in my readings for a course on Fantasy & Science Fiction. I was immediately fascinated by the absurdity of the story, and how it flagrantly disregards any need for conventional structure with regard to beginning, middle, end, or character/plot arcs. It starts where it starts and ends where it ends, and makes no pretence of attempting to make sense. When I share this story in the context of my workshops, it almost always invites an immediate reaction of “what the hell was that?”. I feel like this experience of “what the hell was that?” followed by diving deeper to find personal resonance and meaning, mirrors real life so much more than just passively consuming the more formulaic mainstream stories that tend to become popular and sell well. I think when I first read this story, I knew immediately that I was going to spend a lot of time diving deep into this story and mine it for all its worth. The contemporary Indian love story wasn’t the intention when I first began to dig, it’s just what came out of the process of sitting with it for ten years!
The story deals with arranged marriage, a topic still relevant in Indian society. How do you think The Axe in the Ceiling portrays the dynamics of such marriages today?
The Axe in the Ceiling totally normalises the practice of arranged marriages, and doesn’t make a big deal of it in contrast to other types of marriages, which I think is an accurate representation of how it really is in Indian culture and society. The show portrays one example of how such marriages might get entered into, and what some challenges might be of making such a big commitment in a relatively short time frame. It also portrays ongoing close connections with one’s in-laws, which I feel is a significant feature of Indian marriages in contrast to Western relationships. The sense of respect and responsibility towards a spouse’s parents is a unique feature of this version of the show, and I’m quite excited that it worked out this way. There is an interesting angle of generational patterns seen in the marriage of Chhaya’s parents, repeated in Chhaya’s marriage with Hunar, which I think might be quite thought-provoking for the audience.
Chhaya and Hunar are such contrasting characters. How did you develop their relationship to reflect the balance between individual stability and the complexities of marriage?
The development of Chhaya and Hunar’s characters and relationship dynamics was inspired by patterns that I’ve observed in my own relationships, my parents and other close relationships, as well as my interest in attachment theory. Chhaya’s character tends to lean towards anxious attachment, whereas Hunar’s character is more avoidant. As individuals, they’re both quite accomplished and sorted, but they struggle to make space for their needs when it comes to the context of their relationship, and the challenges become the means for their growth. I have tried to bring out their unique traits and strengths along with their relational challenges, to help the audience imagine what their life could be like if they weren’t clashing with each other, and seeing what is available to them if they do manage to create space for both their full selves to thrive within the relationship.
Absurdity, realism, comedy, and philosophy all play a role in this production. How do these elements come together to enhance the audience’s understanding of the characters’ journeys?
Absurdity and comedy keep the show light and entertaining, realism makes the entertainment relatable, and philosophy gives the relatable entertainment a sense of direction. I would liken it to putting on a head torch and some protective equipment, and walking into a dark cave to explore. Exploration is fun when there are a variety of possibilities, you don’t necessarily know what you’re going to encounter. But you have some grounding and the ability to predict what those possibilities are and where they might lead, because you sort of know what caves are like, and how to sustain yourself during the exploration. But what you actually discover—whether that’s natural formations, or carvings, or creatures, or anything else—that’s the substance that will really shape your emotional experiences and what you take away from the trip. So for The Axe in the Ceiling, my hope is that the philosophy and themes that are embedded into the cave walls will make the journey exciting and worthwhile, while the realism gives a sense of grounding and confidence, and the comedy and lightness lubricate the passage through it all.
You mention that the play holds up a mirror to our own relationships. In what ways do you think audiences will relate to the vulnerability and self-reflection portrayed by Chhaya and Hunar?
I think we can all relate at varying levels to the challenges of sharing space with other humans, when to prioritise our own needs versus when we make space for someone else to be prioritized. We are all so different and unique, and seek connection and harmony with our environments, but often find ourselves at odds with each other because we all want different things and are accustomed to getting them in different ways.
The vulnerability and self-reflection portrayed by Chhaya and Hunar are planted as seeds from the start, but really come to the fore in the second half of the play, first when they admit to themselves what they’re struggling with, and finally when they actually confront each other and share how they really feel. I think audiences will relate to that two step process—sometimes we need to make space for ourselves before we can make space for each other, and watching it in action with Chhaya and Hunar could possibly inspire people to think about how to make space in their own lives, too.
There’s a lot of symbolism in the play, such as the axe in the ceiling and the bird net in the cornfield. Can you talk about the meaning behind these symbols and how they shape the characters’ evolution?
This is probably the most-asked question I come across in relation to this show! The symbolism of the axe is quite simply that of unresolved problems, things that might seem minor to some and major to others, a non-issue to one person or positively debilitating to another. It also symbolises problems passed down between generations, and brings out the ways in which people deal with problems, whether through anxiety, avoidance, pragmatism, collective processing, etc.
The bird net is another abstract metaphor that symbolises the baggage or external weight that gets placed upon people without their consent, usually in the form of identity and expectations placed upon us by others in society. In this play, these symbols shape the characters’ evolution by coming up at unexpected moments, and drawing out reactions that reveal both who the characters truly are, and where they most need to grow.
The play navigates both absurdity and deep reflection. Was it challenging to balance these tones, and how did you manage to keep the audience engaged through such contrasting styles?
I didn’t find it too challenging, on the contrary, I found it quite necessary to have a generous serve of both tones in order to maintain a balance. The deeper the reflections went, the more necessary it became to offer the audience regular breaks from “the heavies” and find an escape in laughter. It is helpful that the play has quite a large cast, about 12 characters, so some characters are stronger on the reflective tones and others are stronger on the comic relief. I think the contrasting tones make the whole show really easy to engage with, not requiring strenuously active work to consume the content, while also not relegating the audience to a merely passive role either!
How did the diverse cast of theatre newbies contribute to the unique energy of the play, and what was it like working with them through this production?
The diverse cast and every individual on the team being exactly who they are, has really brought the show to life in a way that I could never have accomplished on my own. I have been blessed to watch this team come together with eagerness, collaborative spirits, compassionate hearts towards themselves and each other, and a level of sincerity and vulnerability that has been cathartic to experience. The team’s genuine, wholehearted willingness to come as they are, with all their unique stories and experiences, and grow at their own pace, and contribute as much as each one humanly can, has been what has made the process of putting this show together feel so effortless and rewarding.
I have emphasised to the team during rehearsals, “we don’t do this for the audience—we do this for us. The audience will join us for one hour of performance, but we’re here week after week, over a course of months—if we resonate with the work, if this work brings light and laughter and healing and hope and catharsis to us, then we have succeeded. Yes, we invite the audience along to experience this with us, and it fills us with joy if we succeed in giving them a good experience too—but ultimately if they don’t love it, it’s an hour of their lives, and they will find other ways to feel what they need to feel. But it’s essential that we’re all on the same page about finding meaning in what we’re doing.” I take so much joy and pride in the fact that every single person on the team continues to put in their all because it’s personally meaningful to every single one of us.
How has the audience’s response been, especially since the show’s premiere at Melbourne Fringe 2023? Have any reactions or feedback surprised you?
Our audiences have been amazing. We’ve really loved hearing their feedback both during the shows—laughter, gasps, etc.—and in chats with us after, in the foyer, through reviews, and on social media. The kind of feedback I’ve enjoyed the most is when people have totally different perspectives on which character is a “good guy” or a “bad guy” because the play is inherently neutral and doesn’t assign moral judgment to any character. It reflects our worldviews and how we perceive people’s actions and reactions.
I always get a kick out of hearing two people attend a show together, and one says, “I wanted to punch this character!” while the other says, “Why? That was the character who was wronged!” It makes me feel like I’ve succeeded in creating space for them all and giving people solid talking points for their afternoon!
You’ve described the play as “villain-less antagonism.” Can you elaborate on that concept and how it plays out in the relationship between Chhaya and Hunar?
The concept of villain-less antagonism comes from the idea that no one exists to make anyone else’s life miserable, we’re all just living our own lives, and in the process of being ourselves and living the only way we know how to live, we will inevitably step on other people’s toes. If we have a lot of space between ourselves and the next person, we’re less likely to cause offense or get into trouble. But the closer a relationship gets, such as marriage in the case of Chhaya and Hunar, the more likely it gets that people will antagonise each other without meaning to.
One of the intentions of this play is to bring compassion to such instances of antagonism, and to seek to understand what such “antagonists” truly want, before we assign blame or malicious intent to them, thereby lowering resistance to collaboratively finding ways forward.
What message do you hope audiences will take away from The Axe in the Ceiling regarding resilience, vulnerability, and human connection in relationships?
My hope is that audiences will take away exactly what they take away from The Axe in the Ceiling. I know for myself I’m taking away the idea of time, space, and compassion being paramount if vulnerability is to be nurtured and resilience achieved in my relationships—but I don’t know how this work will speak to anyone else. My sincere hope is that as a work of art, the subjectivity of audience experience will be alive and well and everyone will take away whatever reflects life and meaning to them, hopefully in a positive way for their life or at least that one hour of their afternoon!
As an artist, how does adapting folk tales like Clever Else allow you to explore contemporary issues in society, particularly in Indian culture?
I feel art is a mirror to what we already are and have experienced in our lives and cultures, and beyond that it is a portal into deepening and widening our being and experiencing. Adapting this story in this way has helped me gain new perspectives into my Indian upbringing and experiences of those parts of my culture that aren’t often represented in the kind of stories and content I tend to consume.
It has allowed me to bridge a gap for myself, the gap between what I see out there, and what I feel actually represents me. I feel like more than exploring contemporary issues at a social level, it’s given me space to explore my own personal questions in a culturally familiar context, and hopefully opened up space for others like me to feel seen and have space for their own processing as well.
Can you share any insights into how the production evolved from its premiere to this new, ‘bigger and quirkier’ version?
I firmly believe that art has no “finish line”—the work is “finished” only symbolically when the painter puts down their brush, or when the performers take a bow. But if we perform again, whether in the same season, or in a new season, we are actually continuing to build on a work that is alive and dynamic and growing, not “finished”. This is why shows often feel different on closing night as opposed to opening night—they’re always growing! So when the team agreed to spend another year on growing this work after last year’s premiere, my creative juices were absolutely dripping with delight at the possibilities.
We have introduced a few new important characters, dived deeper into the existing characters (including Chhaya’s parents, which provides substance to her backstory), written new scenes, elaborated on character motivations, altered outcomes, and all that has led us to a whole new ending. All of this has happened organically, it has felt like a natural progression of growth over time and continued experiencing. As for the quirkiness, here’s a spoiler: one of our new characters is an ant—we did not have any ants in the first version of the show, and I’m quite delighted with the silliness of having it be an importANT feature in this version!
The play offers hope and validates individual experiences in the world. Why was it important for you to conclude the story with this message of optimism?
It felt important to me to conclude the story with a message of validation and hope, because it feels like the combination that is most conducive to emotionally “journeying on” as opposed to ending the experience when the curtain falls. I really love being able to walk out of a theatre with the work I’ve watched still alive in me, growing at an individual level within me, like a seed planted by the creators and watered by the performance, but taken home by myself to be nurtured as my own experiential houseplant. I want to create this opportunity for my audiences too—and there are many ways in which this can be achieved, but given the central themes and intentions of this work, the offering of validation and hope seemed like the best choice.
THE AXE IN THE CEILING
- Dates: Sat & Sun 12, 13, 19 & 20 October 2024
- Times: 2 pm (duration 60 mins)
- Venue: The Motley Bauhaus – Theatrette, 118 Elgin St, Carlton
- Tickets: Full: $32, Concession $28
- To book tickets visit melbournefringe.com.au or call (03) 9660 9666
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