(supernatural overtones)
in development 2017

Opening scene: Dusk. Lurid light. Dustbowl, Far ranges on fire, the plumes of black smoke a dread against the horizon. Dead orange orchard, a goanna owning it. Crows above a dead thing. Old clapboard house sagging into history, the screen door, under cover of the back veranda squeaking a song of abandonment, the back door open spilling the light of a kerosene lamp into the gloom. Besser-brick barn with the Massey Ferg, rusted out, still jammed into the back wall, enormous, ancient peppermint tree a godlike silhouette against a bleak sky. Slick new ute in the front yard.

Louisiana, lithely muscled and red lipsticked, in Bluntstones, jeans, singlet and heavy-duty canvas gloves sweats. It drips into the bloody-great hole she’s straddling, halfway between the tractor and the tree, her shovel finally striking the plastic tubs. She brushes the sandy soil off their lids and lifts the lid of one. Kilo bags of marijuana and rolls and rolls of money. She smiles. Closes the lid tightly. She swathes the shovel in arcs above them until she strikes her father’s gun box. She drags it free of its grave, hefts it to her shoulder.

She clambers out of the hole, saunters to the veranda, opens the screen door, holds it that way with her perfect bum and twists the key in the lock of the main door, shoving it open.

Revenge has consequences. Sometime that entails justice


Writer Ly de Angeles

Set in a time of callous and entrenched colonial corruption and greed, a culture is decimated and allegiances are forged by bloodshed.

Irishman Peter Lalor is propelled to leadership in a war he does not want, pushed to breaking-point by a cruelty he cannot condone. He will challenge the might of an empire.

BAKERY HILL is intelligent, sensual and provocative.





Audience inclusive theatre
Adapted from William Shakespeare

In the future. In a post-apocalyptic world of tribal law and hierarchical rule where Richard is high, high up in a new monarchy. High enough, but not yet king.

Richard has only ever known war. He is a seasoned warrior, returned from a territorial battle that has forged him. Now there is peace, a thing this man cannot understand and therefore will not accept. Richard is a psychopath; a sociopath. What difference does it make? Does post traumatic stress enter the picture? From his nightmares you could conclude that it does.  Who truly understands madness this cunning? He is usually portrayed as a hunchback with a withered arm but Ly de Angeles’ artistic concept of Richard is crippled in so many other ways. He is like a return veteran of the Iraq/Vietnam war. How is he going to do peace? Young, rich, powerful and with the burden of a cocaine-fuelled, woman-confused disposition, Richard disregards people; plays them. He uses fear to get what he wants. He is sharp, quick-witted, as quick and deadly as a brown snake, reactive, cunning and with a sexual predisposition hard to pin down, albeit rampant. His politics are ruthless and Machiavellian. His androgynous beauty unnerves many in the courts of the new elite and there are those who think his strangeness disallows him the right to his dying elder brother’s position as reigning monarch.

Updated January 2017