Belvoir’s Packer play: Not the man I knew

Packer & Sons presents the struggles of the male Packers in a believable way but its portrayal of Kerry is one dimensional.

John Howard in Packer & Sons. Picture: Supplied

In the world of big business, if power, influence, control and money, money and more money are the primary markers of your life, chances are you won’t be a shrinking violet. More likely you’ll be a dogmatic, driven, heartless bully.

As director Eamon Flack puts it: “Ours is the age of the arsehole. If you’re prepared not to give a shit about the people around you, you can have it all.”

James and Kerry Packer. Picture: News Corp

Packer & Sons at Belvoir is an exploration of intergenerational power; how it is built, nurtured and passed — or wrested — from father to son. The play is built around the Sydney media family of Packers and it is, for a stage play where hyperbole, licence and extremes are the norm, surprisingly accurate. Yes, it is true Robert Clyde Packer found 10 bob (a dollar) and put it on a horse at 12-1 to win enough to get him a ticket from Hobart to Sydney; yes, his son Frank took a huge gamble in launching the Australian Wom­en’s Weekly; yes, his son Kerry jettisoned print for a stellar career in television; and yes, it is true that his son James deserted TV for the less savoury world of casinos.

READ MORE: Australia’s most legalled play? | John McCallum’s review

You can’t condense a century of Packers into 2½ hours of stage play without losing a few bits — there’s no room for sex, mist­resses, marriage breakdowns or misogyny and no reference to the family’s fabled philanthropic work. Writer Tommy Murphy has distilled the generational struggles of the male Packers in an entirely believable way.

We see the brutal treatment of young Clyde and Kerry at the hand of Sir Frank reappear as Kerry berates James for the One.Tel fiasco that cost the Packer and Murdoch families hundreds of millions of dollars.

James and Kerry Packer after victory in Melbourne Cup International Polo Tournament at Werribee Park in 2000. Picture: Cameron Tandy

Yet, apart from a few moments, this portrayal is one dimensional. In life, the Kerry Packer I knew and worked for, could be rough, tough, rude, uncompromising and unappealing. He never read or referred to papers — he was dyslexic — but he relied on his instincts. Decisions were made not by intellectual process; rather, he listened to the rumblings of his gut.

But he could also be utterly charming, persuasive, warm and generous. Only in the final scenes do we get a glimpse of this side of Kerry when he embraces James.

Packer & Sons is a slice of a contemporary life. As James’s shining, twisting phallus-like casino tower rises at Barangaroo, we await the next chapter. Can he, after his torrid upbringing, find the peace and happiness that eluded his forebears?

Packer & Sons. By Tommy Murphy. Belvoir, Sydney, November 21. Tickets: $35-$92. Bookings [phone] or online. Duration: 2hr 30min, including interval. Until December 22.