Few of us have been untouched by mental illness, directly or indirectly, which partly accounts for the success of London-based Australian playwright Kendall Feaver’s debut work.

Premiering in Manchester in 2018, when it won the UK Theatre Award for Best New Play – one of several accolades – The Almighty Sometimes has been presented by companies around the world including Queensland Theatre and Sydney’s Griffin Theatre.

So, one could say this MTC production is overdue. However, director Hannah Goodwin’s focused, sensitive interpretation and the fine cast, particularly Nadine Garner and Max McKenna, make it worth the wait.

Max McKenna and Nadine Garner in Melbourne Theatre Company’s The Almighty Sometimes. Photo © Pia Johnson

The Almighty Sometimes, whose title refers to a medical assessment form, centres on freshly minted adult Anna. She wants to stop taking the cocktail of medications that has stabilised her mental health since age 11. Anna has discovered reams of brilliant but dark creative writing from her pre-medicated life, and wants to reignite that mental spark; she wants to find her true self.

The play follows what is a difficult journey not only for Anna, but also those around her: endlessly caring, concerned mother Renee, who can no longer make decisions for her daughter; psychiatrist Vivienne who is deeply invested in her long-term patient; and new boyfriend Oliver, a nice guy with his own problems at home.

Bold, insightful and compassionate, it tackles mental illness with such nuance that the audience’s sympathy gently but inevitably shifts multiple times.

For this new two-hour production (plus interval), McKenna shows extraordinary range as Anna. In a performance far removed from their 2017 breakout role, the original Muriel in Muriel’s Wedding the Musical, they are by turns self-absorbed, insouciant, cruel, uncertain, calm, fizzing with energy, angry or exhausted. McKenna fully inhabits their character, never more so than a volcanic episode in Act II that is heartbreaking.

Garner is equally compelling as Renee. Through words, looks and gestures she reveals a lifetime of worry, frustration and love, and often holds her body like a saggy rubber band that’s been stretched too tight for too long. Together, Garner and McKenna convey the fierce emotions driving the play’s central mother-daughter relationship.

Nadine Garner in Melbourne Theatre Company’s The Almighty Sometimes. Photo © Pia Johnson

Karl Richmond (so memorable opposite Garner in MTC’s 2021 production of The Lifespan of a Fact) is a likeable Oliver: kind, a little goofy and ultimately distressed, which is apparent in his body and voice. Louisa Mignone’s Vivienne is a fascinating study in professional distance in peril because of familiarity and compassion.

Lit by Amelia Lever-Davidson, Jacob Battista’s set is a blocky, open, dark blue-grey structure, whose central components move around freely on a pivot. Sometimes Anna spins about on them, but at other times they form a maze, or block her way entirely. It’s a clever representation of her shifting mental state, while in stasis the set also works well as a functional space that locates the narrative with drawers, shelves and doorways.

Though fortunately not quite the hidden illness it was, mental illness remains an incredibly challenging, complex and common reality we all need to think through. With its insight, honesty and heart, The Almighty Sometimes helps us do that.

The Almighty Sometimes plays at The Sumner, Melbourne, until 18 May.