Scorched Earth is part crime-drama, part psychological thriller — piercing into a dark but fundamental question of the Irish psyche. What right do we have to the land beneath our feet? What are we willing to do to keep it? Or take it.

A slide carousel clicks as photos, newspaper clippings and documents flash against a drab grey wall. Somewhere in Ireland, Detective Alison Kerr (Sarah Dowling) has revived the cold case of William Dean (Will Thompson), a property developer whose body was found on the land he had recently purchased.
The suspect is John McKay (Luke Murphy), the softly spoken farmer who had tended and shaped the earth with care, only to be outbid at the auction.
It’s an unlikely set up for a contemporary dance production, but in the hands of Murphy and Attic Projects, Scorched Earth provides deep human insight into the agrarian violence that has scarred Ireland for centuries. Anchored by John B. Keane’s play The Field and other fictional and historical works, the company are on solid ground as they explore the intersection of place, belonging and ownership.
Too often do theatrical explorations of such stories struggle to feel real. This is not the case here. John McKay invites our sympathy, only for that to sour to scepticism under Detective Kerr’s dogged interrogation. The chemistry between the two characters smoulders before it combusts.
Murphy’s writing and direction deserve credit here, as does the seamless integration of lighting (Stephen Dodd), music and sound (Rob Moloney), and audio visual design (Patricio Cassinoni).

The set and costumes by Alyson Cummins look and feel real until they do not, recalling the strange and unsettling world of cult movie Donnie Darko.
Rounded out by Ryan O’Neill and Tyler Carney-Fateatua, who play multiple roles between them, the ensemble compel us to care about what happens in this small, nameless place.
Murphy’s choreography is rarely flashy. It unites and separates bodies using functional, efficient patterns. The moments of struggle depicted between the two men at the heart of the story are grounded and understated.
In the work’s final act, as the world of the show physically and figuratively expands, some of the drama and surprise is diluted. Nevertheless, Scorched Earth is an intelligent and technically impressive piece of theatre that skilfully navigates difficult terrain.
Scorched Earth plays Brisbane Powerhouse until September 20.
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