Housework review – breezy comedy deftly explores the complexity of Australian politics

. AU edition

Actors Emily Taheny and Susie Youssef in a scene from Housework, at a desk with a laptop
Susie Youssef as MP Ruth Mandour (right) and Emily Taheny as her overworked chief of staff Anna. Photograph: Prudence Upton

Sydney Theatre Company, Opera House Susie Youssef plays a first-term MP who is passionate, but also clearly a bit of a nightmare to work for

How much change is actually possible in Australian politics? How many compromises can you make while still preserving your ideals? Are those ideals worth more than having power – and can you do anything about them if you’re powerless? And how much are all of these questions complicated, fractured, and multiplied when you’re a woman working within systems that, historically, were not built to include you?

These complex questions form the surprisingly steely backbone of the breezy comedy Housework.

Written by Emily Steel and originally produced for State Theatre Company of South Australia but now making its Sydney Theatre Company debut at the Opera House. Susie Youssef plays Ruth Mandour, a nurse turned first term MP who was galvanised into political action after the Covid-19 pandemic. She is passionate about equity in health, but also clearly a bit of a nightmare to work for (woe betide anyone who messes up her coffee order). Anna (Emily Taheny) is stretched-thin as her chief of staff: writing speeches, briefing on policy, and trying to steal a few moments here and there to talk to her young daughter on the phone.

When Ruth’s media adviser, Ben (Laurence Boxhall), tests positive for Covid and has to miss the trip to Canberra for a parliamentary sitting week, wide-eyed junior staffer Kelly (Franca Lafosse) is tapped to join the team. And media darling Indira Naidoo plays two different women (to say exactly who would be a spoiler) who both challenge our characters’ perspectives on the politics game, and what it means to win or lose.

Can Ruth get some support for her proposed legislation that could force companies to include women in their clinical trials? Can Anna call in a favour from her old boss, the silver-fox frontbencher Paul (Johnny Nasser) with a wandering eye? And when a scandal threatens to take down more than one member of the team, will they save each other – or just themselves?

While Housework takes a little while to warm up, perhaps too-carefully laying the groundwork for a stunning narrative implosion, when it finds its footing it’s a treat. It’s a rare play with a stronger second act than its first, but Housework really comes into its own when it can sink its teeth into the story’s central scandal. It is full of twists and turns, and has a wryly naturalistic approach to dialogue that supports well rounded characterisation and a well placed punchline.

And it really is funny. Director Shannon Rush leaves plenty of breathing room in each scene for the actors to find secondary and background comic beats – and gives us time to watch, and enjoy, a good joke. Youssef is a symphony of reactive micro-expressions (disdain, pleasure, mild horror), and Lafosse, the play’s earnest heart, captures Kelly’s fresh naivete with delightful running gags (just watch her trying, and failing, to eat dumplings with chopsticks she cannot figure out).

It’s a testament to the cast and to Rush that even when a new plot twist is straight out of the storytelling playbook, it still seems to feel fresh to the audience – judging by the gasps, groans, and shocked laughter from all corners of the Drama Theatre.

It also helps that this production is as stylish as its script. Ailsa Paterson’s design evokes Parliament House with sleek columns, stone walls and a chamber table, and Nigel Levings builds playful shadows into back-door deals and starker shades into high-stress moments, his work buoyed up by Andrew Howard’s compositions.

This is a confident and cohesive production in its second run, with Lafosse, Taheny, and Youssef reprising their roles from the 2025 Adelaide production. It’s a pleasure to watch them, their performances having a refreshing depth and a real sense of play. When Taheny and Lafosse are pushed far away from comedy and into real pain, those scenes land too.

As the stakes grow higher for every character – more than one of them reaching political and personal breaking points – we get pulled even deeper into the rumours, strategising, leaks and power moves that keep political agents locked in their battles. We see how women, in particular, are forced into playing certain roles in a broader narrative; we cross blurry lines of exploitation, agency, choice and sacrifice. Drama, satire, and a peek into the machinations behind Question Time: there’s a lot to like about Housework.