Review: Solace (ARA Darling Quarter Theatre)

Venue: ARA Darling Quarter Theatre (Sydney NSW), Nov 29 – Dec 2, 2023
Directors: David Clarkson, Margot Politis
Cast: Kerry Bashford, Lana Filies, Matthias Nudl, Alana Pienkosz, Darlene Proberts, Nick Vagne
Images by Robert Catto

Theatre review
Sometimes the place we find ourselves, proves inadequate at containing the full beings we are. It is a feeling of displacement and incongruity, where things struggle to fit or cohere. Solace is a devised work that explores personal quests for a sense of comfort, often dealing with a state of dissociation, as individuals retreat into deep introspection, withdrawing into somewhere ephemeral yet fundamentally authentic.

Directed by David Clarkson and Margot Politis, the 35-minute work is confidently poetic, and unapologetic with its rendering of a theatrical language that is consistently esoteric in quality, unafraid of obscure expressions, with a view to providing an experience that sings truthfully.

Video projections by Matt Hughes are a key feature of the staging, magically incorporating live action into the imagery we see on screens. Operating harmoniously with Mike Smith’s lights, the results are consistently beautiful, delivering visuals that connect meaningfully on a visceral level. Music by Prema Yin coaxes us persuasively into a cosmic realm, away from mundane realities, yet tethered to the inevitable wordliness of all our existences.

Six devisors for Solace appear onstage to present their own creative musings. They form a sincere cast, memorable for a distinctly delicate approach to storytelling. Having given themselves the permission to  indulge in an art characterised by sensitivity and fragility, we are reminded of the care and support that artists, and everyone else, require to flourish. To be vulnerable is to be honest about humanity, but it is how are able to hold each other, with grace and generosity, that makes all the difference.

www.milkcratetheatre.com | www.boxofbirds.net

Review: The Seagull (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Nov 21 – Dec 16, 2023
Playwright: Anton Chekhov (adapted by Andrew Upton)
Director: Imara Savage
Cast: Arka Das, Michael Denkha, Harry Greenwood, Markus Hamilton, Mabel Li, Sean O’Shea, Toby Schmitz, Sigrid Thornton, Megan Wilding, Brigid Zengeni
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Constantine’s angst remains resolute, even though he no longer lives in 1896 Russia. Andrew Upton’s adaptation of Chekhov’s The Seagull takes place in current day Australia, refreshed with modernised dialogue that effervesces amusingly, but is otherwise entirely faithful to the original. It is arguable whether these characters would think and behave the same, having moved continents and centuries. Even though human nature can be disconcertingly rigid, the dramatic (and iconic) conclusion of Chekhov’s play, feels too characteristic perhaps of an olden Russia. It is however certainly possible that that despondence is in fact no different, wherever and whenever the story takes place. Upton could be making the point, that we are in fact deluded, should we consider ourselves evolved and improved.

Nevertheless, the update feels somewhat tenuous, even though the contemporarised humour of the piece is an unequivocal pleasure. Directed by Imara Savage, the show is at its most appealing when moments are drenched in irony, as we watch persons of a certain privilege, unable to evade nihilistic despair. Reflecting on Chekhov’s times, we can associate The Seagull with impending revolutions, and explain that malaise within a context of disquietude and a thirst for upheaval. Watching the same tale unfold in our here and now, is a confronting proposition. That unflinching pessimism could be saying something appalling about the people we are, or we could simply regard this transposition to be somehow inauthentic.

All the same, drama is delicious. Actor Harry Greenwood as Constantine is less sympathetic than is traditionally portrayed, but renders an unassailable sense of truth and integrity, to persuade us of his narrative. Other notable performers include Mabel Li, equally impressive in comedic and tragic portions of Nina’s exploits, able to make convincing the drastic shift in temperaments, for this classic showcase of lost innocence. Sean O’Shea’s highly idiosyncratic turn as Peter proves thoroughly delightful, very extravagant in style but unquestionably charming with his interpretations of an ageing invertebrate. Playing Boris the cad is Toby Schmitz, wonderfully inventive and unpredictable, in his thrilling explorations of self-absorption and immorality. On stage, Schmitz’s impulsiveness is a real joy.

Set design by David Fleischer conveys a rustic sensibility, but always with a quiet sophistication that reminds us of the social class being depicted. Costumes by Renée Mulder emphasise the modernity of characters, keeping them accurately within the current generation. Lights by Amelia Lever-Davidson, along with sounds and music by Max Lyandvert, are extremely subtle until the final climactic scenes, when we are treated to a greater theatricality, as the show approaches its inevitable melodramatic conclusion.

The world tells Constantine that by virtue of his biological and social distinctions, that he is destined to be a leader and a winner. In the microcosm of his daily existence however, he only feels belittled and disgraced. Males account for three-quarters of suicide in Australia today. We can diverge in our understandings of that statistic, but it is a clearly a question of gender that cannot be ignored. We are all vulnerable beings. It is the quixotic notion that some of us have to be impervious to human fallibilities, that can drive a person to the brink.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Next To Normal (ARA Darling Quarter Theatre)

Venue: ARA Darling Quarter Theatre (Sydney NSW), Nov 22 – 25, 2023
Book and Lyrics: Brian Yorkey
Music: Tom Kitt
Director: Marie-Jo Orbase, Eezu Tan
Cast: Jacen Bennett, Liam Faulkner-Dimond, Sebastian Nelson, Chaya Ocampo, Claire Perry, Marcus Rivera
Images by Hugo Photography & Film

Theatre review
Diana experiences serious mental health challenges; suffering from bipolar disorder, along with depression and anxiety issues, she tries different treatment options, hoping for a cure that could solve her problems decisively. In the musical Next to Normal by Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey, we take an honest look at a phenomenon that is pervasive yet stigmatised, to help facilitate discussions about how we, as individuals and as communities, navigate psychological well-being.

It is a cleverly structured work, with excellent humour and a sensitive tenderness, culminating in a surprisingly subversive conclusion, that connects with both intelligence and amusement. Directed by Marie-Jo Orbase and Eezu Tan, the production is full of sincerity, and although lacking in polish, tells the story with a vibrant gusto. Sound engineering in the production is particularly impressive, standing out as the staging’s most professional element.

Performer Claire Perry demonstrates great commitment for the role of Diana, and sings the part with admirable precision. The entire cast delivers a good standard of musicality, as well as passion and energy, for a show that provokes valuable thought and discussion.

There are many ways we can choose to deal with our mental health, as long as we know not to neglect its care. We are bruised and battered from simply existing, and what happens in the mind is endlessly complex and delicate. There are no easy solutions, and certainly nothing that could work the same for every person, but to pay it close attention, to understand that it requires constant nurturing and tending to, is crucial to us thriving.

www.whimsicalproductions.com.au

Review: Darwin’s Reptilia (25A Belvoir)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Nov 15 – 26, 2023
Playwright: Charlie Falkner
Director: Samantha Young
Cast: Danny Ball, Zoe Jensen, Mathew Lee, Leilani Loau, Ainslie McGlynn
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review
Five people (and a baby) are contained at a motel in Darwin, due to a bizarre infestation of crocodiles that has taken the lives of at least two Swedes. This initial conceit in Charlie Falkner’s Darwin’s Reptilia might be absurd, but what follows is a realistic study of regular lives, presented with sparkling humour. The comedy might feel slightly deficient in terms of plot development, but its dialogue is endlessly amusing, with intricately imagined characters who endear, charm and fascinate.

Direction by Samantha Young imbues effervescence throughout the piece, able to convey veracity yet provide an inviting playfulness, keeping us mirthfully connected to the quirky storytelling. Set and costumes by Ruth Arnold are commensurately vibrant, with a cheerful colour palette that energises and activates the space. Lights by Saint Clair, along with sounds and music by Hewett Cook, are rendered minimally but precisely, to support the cast’s antics in tropical Northern Territory.

Renata, the characteristically dubious self-help author from New York, is performed by Ainslie McGlynn with a naturalistic approach, to help make convincing her impulsive visit to Australia. Renata’s Irish husband Declan is played by a comically intense Danny Ball, wonderfully theatrical and dripping with irony, as a classically macho brooding type. The delightful Zoe Jensen brings blitheness and zeal, along with exceptional timing, to the role of motel worker Flick. Her manager Bobbi is given captivating authenticity and emotional depth by Leilani Loau, and Mathew Lee is unforgettable as the naïve but charming John, escaping the USA for greener pastures, only to find all his old baggage awaiting at the new destination.

People journey afar in search of better days, but the best a person can hope for, is a change in scenery that could allow for what is already within, to express itself in refreshed or unfettered ways. Happiness is only a little about that which is external; who we are internally, determines the peace and fulfilment one can experience. It is true that outside affects inside, but years of travelling will ultimately reveal, that it is in a return to one’s own head and heart, that the key can be found.

www.jackrabbitprods.com | www.belvoir.com.au

Review: The Lost Boys (Seymour Centre)

Venue: Seymour Centre (Chippendale NSW), Nov 10 – Dec 1, 2023
Directors: Craig Baldwin, Eliza Scott
Cast: Samuel Beazley, Adriane Daff, Emma Harrison, Romain Hassanin, Julia Robertson, Eliza Scott, Anusha Thomas
Images by Grant Leslie

Theatre review
Based on the 1911 novel Peter and Wendy by J.M. Barrie, The Lost Boys is a freeform immersive work of theatre, dealing with issues pertaining to early masculinity and the loss of innocence. Its scene are distinct and separate, each with an independent style of presentation, but kept within a uniform aesthetic by directors Craig Baldwin and Eliza Scott, to convey a sense of cohesion for the production.

Set and lighting design by Ryan McDonald addresses tastefully the unusual spatial concerns of The Lost Boys, able to deliver style and a quality of surprise, for the series of imagery we encounter. Costumes by Esther Zhong are appropriately youthful, accurate in depicting the times and the culture being interrogated. Sounds are a highlight, especially the electronic music being deployed whether pulsating or ambient, to have us engaged with the show’s carefully calibrated atmospherics.

An ensemble of eight with divergent skills and talents, creates a one-hour presentation notable for its poetic sensibility. The Lost Boys commences at high octane, full of energy and promise, but struggles to sustain that intensity. Its first half is enjoyable for quirky and startling interpretations of Barrie’s writing, but an unintended juvenility sets in midway, and the show turns regretfully banal. There is no questioning the commitment on display by the vibrant collective, but it seems their ingenuity is depleted too early in the piece.

It is crucial that we undertake a deconstruction of masculinity, and redefine its virtues, for men and for people of other genders. Much of masculinity has been harmful, but like all other damaging systems that furnish power to few, it is stridently persistent, bolstered perversely by those who suffer its consequences. Its values are so ubiquitous that we rarely question their validity, unconsciously absorbing them into the ways we navigate all of existence. We regard them as natural and elemental, when they are demonstrably malleable, with meanings that are almost entirely imaginary and indeed, illusory. We may not be able to do away with gender altogether in the current lifetime, but disallowing it from taking on immutable and invulnerable shapes, is ultimately of benefit to all.

www.seymourcentre.com | www.littleeggscollective.com

Review: The Master & Margarita  (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Nov 11 – Dec 10, 2023
Playwright: Eamon Flack (adapted from the book by Mikhail Bulgakov)
Director: Eamon Flack
Cast: Paula Arundell, Marco Chiappi, Tom Conroy, Gareth Davies, Amber McMahon, Josh Price, Matilda Ridgway, Anna Samson, Mark Leonard Winter, Jana Zvedeniuk
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita features Satan as provocateur, a figure intent on exposing hypocrisy and failings of society. There are also a novelist and a poet, who create further flights of fantasy, in addition to the already complex narratives being woven by Bulgakov. Eamon Flack’s adaptation not only transposes for the stage, key portions of the book, it also introduces biographical information about the author’s experiences with censorship in Stalin’s Soviet Union, and includes modernist commentary on the very process of adaptation.

The staging is ambitious, expansive and brave, full of passion in its often wild transformations of space and atmosphere. Inspired by the imaginative and unconstrained qualities of the source material, The Master & Margarita becomes a work of theatre that feels commensurately boundless, in both scope and intention, successful at translating a sense of spirit and of essence, rather than attempting to labour excessively over plot details. Almost a century old, references and contexts in Bulgakov’s text now feel inevitably distant, but his exuberant commitment to art and to politics, evidently remains an inspiration. The artists, under Flack’s directorship, demonstrate the perennial relevance of that dedication to truth and to an existential vigour, and their audience is certainly reminded of those virtues.

Lighting design by Nick Schlieper imbues sophistication for the production, increasingly flamboyant as the show progresses, but is curiously reticent at times, in something that should not shy from extravagance. Costumes by Romanie Harper indicate with clarity, the characters being presented, along with the times and places to which they belong, often with a gentle humour that adds valuable idiosyncrasy to the imagery we encounter. Memorable elements of magic and illusion are designed by Adam Mada, to engender an otherworldliness so crucial to any reading of Bulgakov’s work. Sounds and music by Stefan Gregory are gently transportative, surreptitious but highly effective in having us beguiled and attentive.

A formidable ensemble of ten performers take us through three hours of joyous mayhem, remarkable  in their zeal and inventiveness. Each is given ample opportunity to showcase their individual strengths, and as a group, their chemistry is simply mesmerising. Performance guidance is provided by Emma Maye Gibson, who ensures uniformity in style, and establishes for the show, an air of decadence that proves transgressive not only as an artistic gesture, but also for how we can decipher and deconstruct the paradigms involved, in navigating life as contemporary colonised Australians.

There is a great beauty in this rendition of The Master & Margarita, with no shortage of courage and integrity being displayed, yet what it does say, seems never to be pointed enough. Perhaps abstractions can only speak on what the viewer is ready to receive, and not what the initiator wishes to convey. Perhaps wishing for art to change the world, can only be true in small increments, that its revolution can only happen gradually. Much as art can appear radical, maybe what it brings about, can only ever be subtle and slow. In the moment of interaction, The Master & Margarita seems commanding and forceful with all that it delivers, but what is actually being communicated sits somewhere visceral, likely to emerge with real poignancy at some unpredictable juncture.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: Oil (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Nov 4 – Dec 16, 2023
Playwright: Ella Hickson
Director: Paige Rattray
Cast: Saif Alawadi, Violette Ayad, Jing-Xuan Chan, Callan Colley, Charlotte Friels, Josh McConville, Benedict Samuel, Brooke Satchwell, Damien Strouthos, Anne Tenney
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Ella Hickson’s Oil begins in 1889 with young May falling pregnant with Amy, whilst navigating abject poverty in Cornwall, England. With each subsequent chapter, May and Amy jump decades ahead theatrically, allowing us to see an evolution of English womanhood in parallel with the industrial revolution and, more specifically, the modern history of petroleum. It is a complex, although surprisingly comprehensible, work that deals with environmental degradation, along with providing an evaluation of the trajectory of Western feminism, as well as a meditation on human nature.

Oil talks about our survival, including both our ingenuity and our incapacities, for a narrative on our progress, and perhaps regressions, to offer new reflections on human propensities, benevolent and otherwise, that may inspire improved methods for how we may forge ahead. Paige Rattray’s remarkable direction of the work captivates with endless intrigue, for something that could have easily become overly intellectual. It asks many questions, and leaves them unanswered, yet we feel sated by the end, nourished by passionate and pointed depictions of our shared pasts and likely futures.

Actor Brooke Satchwell brings scintillating intensity and focus to May, the maternal figure who always intends to do her best, but who is never safe from making errors. Satchwell’s confidence helps gain our trust in the unpredictable storytelling, taking us on a confronting ride that proves to be thoroughly thought-provoking. Amy is played by Charlotte Friels, spirited and purposeful with her creative choices, admirable for her ability to cultivate excellent chemistry with all she partners with. The leads are supported by a highly proficient ensemble, with each performer leaving a strong impression, in a detailed and refined presentation of an urgent message.

Set design by Emma White is wonderful in its versatility, cleverly adapting to the requirements of each era, as the play takes inordinately big leaps through the years. The creation of props for the show are especially commendable, completely fascinating in the ways they embellish the space for a series of imagery to manufacture an absorbing realism. David Fleischer’s costumes are commensurately believable, adorning the cast with a persuasive sense of naturalism, even when we step into the realm of science fiction. The stage, in the round, is illuminated meaningfully by Paul Jackson, who demonstrates great care with how we perceive lights, in a tale based on the immense repercussions of our relationship with crude oil. Sound and music by Clemence Williams are intricately rendered, whether with their subtle influence or through bigger dramatic gestures, all effective in keeping our psyche deeply invested.

May wants always to make noble decisions, but there is something about her dedication to her own family unit that eventually appears selfish. We see May’s struggles for survival, and her earnest efforts in providing for Amy, and learn about the ignorance and the carelessness, in how we have conceived of the future. Oil encourages us to imagine alternatives, where we had perhaps previously believed that none exist. It contextualises existential threat in a way that makes us realise the inevitability of shifting our lives, and makes us want the notion of sustainability to henceforth become essential and unyieldingly ubiquitous.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Face Of Jizo (Old Fitz Theatre)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Oct 28 – Nov 18, 2023
Playwright: Hisashi Inoue (translated By Roger Pulvers)
Director: David Lynch, Shingo Usami
Cast: Mayu Iwasaki, Shingo Usami
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review
Mitsue is on the surface, a contented librarian in mid-century Hiroshima, but having lived through the devastating bombing by Americans only three years prior, her inner turmoil is much more profound than can be easily perceived. The 2001 play The Face Of Jizo by Hisashi Inoue 井上 ひさし may be set decades ago, but its reflections on survivor guilt reverberate beyond its narrative about one particular catastrophe. Along with serving as a reminder on the tragic consequences of war, The Face Of Jizo is concerned with how we emerge from trauma, emphasising the point that to live well, is often a matter of choices we make.

It is perhaps inevitable that the play’s gravity is central and severe, but there is also excellent humour coaxing us into the story and its stirring intentions. Directed by David Lynch and Shingo Usami, the show is charmingly inviting, with a palpable warmth that accompanies the harder edges of a sobering tale. Simultaneously gentle and heartrending, this theatrical experience proves enjoyable even though its themes are unquestionably foreboding.

Set design by Tobhiyah Stone Feller convey a sense of accuracy, for the time and place being depicted. The subtleties of Matt Cox’s lights, as well as his more dramatic manoeuvres, reveal a commendable attentiveness to the meaningful text. Music by Me-Lee Hay and sound design by Zachary Saric are appropriately restrained, called upon when necessary to add embellishment and refinement, to a thoughtful and sensitive work.

Actor Mayu Iwasaki brings both exuberance and poignancy to the role of Mitsue, with an extraordinary focus that keeps us compelled and hooked to her emotional journey. The aforementioned Usami plays the ghost of Mitsue’s father, similarly absorbing and persuasive, whether delivering joy or anguish, in a show that always takes care to render the light with the dark. The pair applies a distinct style of performance, for this translation by Roger Pulvers, to ensure that the English language never detracts from the cultural specificity being portrayed. Some of the adapted dialogue may feel awkward, but its sensibilities never for a moment, stray from mid-century Japan.

Guilt that turns inward, and that never finds resolution, can only be harmful. We see in Mitsue the futility of sorrowful regret and the damage it causes, having survived unspeakable losses. It is of course easier said than done, when urging a person to simply get over hardship of this magnitude. Indeed, the ray of hope should always be fundamental to any survival, but the grace of community is equally vital, to how we can heal, and how we can curtail the evil that always seems ready to inflict death and destruction.

www.redlineproductions.com.au

Review: The Lives Of Eve (KXT on Broadway)

Venue: KXT on Broadway (Ultimo NSW), Oct 27 – Nov 11, 2023
Playwright: Stephen Sewell
Director:
Kim Hardwick
Cast: Annie Byron, Helen O’Connor, Louisa Panucci, Noel Hodda
Images by 

Theatre review
Eve is as terrible a wife as she is a psychoanalyst, yet has strangely been able to maintain both a marriage and a career for decades. Stephen Sewell’s The Lives of Eve is deeply mercurial and academic, inspired heavily by the work of psychiatrist Jacques Lacan (1901-1981). The characters are fanciful, never actually authentic in their manifestations, with narratives that struggle to resonate. Sewell’s real interest however is in Lacan’s writing, which he attempts to recontextualize and expound. For those unfamiliar with that obscure domain, there is a four-and-a-half-thousand word document  in the foyer to help one prepare for the show.

Direction by Kim Hardwick tries to introduce a sense of believability, especially in more pedestrian scenes, during which Eve is seen to be fighting alternately, with her patient and her husband. Depictions of Eve’s dysfunctions are persuasive, although coming to an understanding of her problems seems to require enthusiasm for and prior familiarity with the Lacan material, which is probably too arduous a proposition for most.

Atmosphere for the production however is calibrated beautifully. Hannah Yardley’s set design delivers a dose of surrealism, with an abundance of crimson Persian style rugs enveloping surfaces of the performance space. Lights by Martin Kinnane introduce nuance and intensity, as do sounds by Jessica Pizzinga, both intricately and sensitively rendered, to communicate with accuracy the increasingly passionate temperaments being explored.

Actor Helen O’Connor is convincing with her submergence into the immensely cerebral qualities of the titular role. We may not always comprehend what she is tasked to convey, but Eve certainly appears to be enthralled by her various crises. Other cast members are understandably less assured, considering the often bizarre ways their characters are made to speak and act.

Not every work of theatre is meant for everyone. Art should always encourage idiosyncrasy, particularity and peculiarity. The Lives of Eve emerges from somewhere that seems detached from many contemporary realities, thus reflecting our artistic landscape’s admirable capacity for diversity. Art that does not do enough to connect however, could have a fraught relationship with its audience, or worse, one characterised only by apathy and nonchalance.

www.kingsxtheatre.com | www.whiteboxtheatre.com.au