Review: Children Of The Sun (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Sep 8 – Oct 25, 2014
Playwright: Maxim Gorky (adapted by Andrew Upton)
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Valerie Bader, James Bell, Justine Clarke, Yure Covich, Jay Laga’aia, Jacqueline McKenzie, Hamish Michael, Julia Ohannessian, Chris Ryan, Helen Thomson, Contessa Treffone, Toby Truslove
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review (originally published at Auditorium Magazine)
In Andrew Upton’s adaptation of Maxim Gorky’s Children Of The Sun, 12 characters of distinct and diverse personalities intermingle in the privileged Protasov household, each with their own sets of concerns and each holding world views that struggle to find cohesion and alliance. Written in 1905, but set 50 years earlier, Gorky’s play looks to the past in order that we may speak of the now. Created at a time of great political and social unrest, a fictional history was used to illustrate the disquiet of the day. The work is about the anxieties and uncertainties inherent in the process of revolution, and the troubling consequences of fragmentation in communities. In our age of technological modernity, we relate instinctively to its theme of individualistic narcissism, and the increasingly fracturing nature of our local and world affairs allows us to empathise with the writer’s angst and trepidation in the face of social upheaval.

The disharmony of relationships is strikingly enhanced in Upton’s version. Its farcical comedy is relentlessly witty and often surprisingly clever, but always subservient to the greater tension of unrest that gradually unfolds. The language we hear is modern, almost colloquially Australian, which not only makes for sharper punchlines, but also allows us to readily identify personality archetypes and status structures. The disconnect between the household’s apolitical characters and the political movement that intensifies on the outside is fascinating to observe. Upton’s dialogue portrays the insularity of daily life, with the characters unknowingly providing reverberations for a larger context. It is classic social commentary that seems immortal, because its necessity never seems to diminish.

Kip Williams’ marvelous direction of the piece works with all the nuances and philosophies of the script to deliver an irresistible production that is both entertaining and thought-provoking. Every character is intriguing and authentic, and Williams injects in each a dimension of dignity, refusing to make convenient fools of anyone. Herein lies the poignancy of work. The range of personalities is diverse, and even though we are unable to identify with everyone, we recognise the humanity in all of them. The vulnerability that they display is familiar, which means that the danger they encounter rings true for us.

Williams achieves a deliciously precarious balance between comedy and drama, effectively vacillating between frivolity and severity throughout the production. It is an intensely engaging show that manipulates our responses almost at will. There is an unpredictability to its plot that takes us off the beaten track and rejects our expectations, but it always enthralls our senses. Its rhythm is perfectly orchestrated in collaboration with our fluctuating emotions, and we become utterly lost in all its trials and tribulations.

Giving the narrative an impressive clarity is its extremely colourful and dynamic cast, many of whom exhibit extraordinary theatrical abilities that look very much like genius. Helen Thomson gives an unforgettable performance as Melaniya, a blundering seductress whose desperation is matched only by her beauty. Thomson’s work is precise and studied, but her instinctive timing creates a deceptive sense of spontaneity. Hilarious, playful, and larger than life, her every entrance is commanding and powerful. Thomson finds comedy in unexpected places, making us laugh while leaving us stupefied at the magnitude of her talents. Even more flamboyant is Hamish Michael, who is delightfully hammy as the painter Dimitri. His humour is unfettered and extravagant, always keen to highlight the vacuous pretensions of his role. Michael relishes the opportunity to play jester, with a wildness to his performance that is certainly amusing, and absolutely suited to the grand scale of the venue.

Pavel is the childlike patriarch, whose devotion to science renders him feckless in all other areas. Toby Truslove embodies the character’s eccentricity perfectly. The actor is slightly betrayed by his youthful appearance but his use of voice and physicality is very well-considered. Truslove’s ability to aggrandise what is basically an introspective personality helps establish Pavel as the charming man who finds himself the object of two women’s affections. Pavel’s sister Liza is his opposite. She is a creature of intuition and emotion, whose ill health is a symbolic manifestation of all the worries she carries for the world. Actor Jacqueline McKenzie is sensitive, elegant and tremendously affecting in the role. She demonstrates excellent range and an acute intellect that carves out the most intricate character on this stage.

Production design is restrained but highly evocative. David Fleischer’s big revolving stage holds several minimal structures that demarcate spaces, but all are in full view for the duration. The aesthetic is modern, but its sentiment is traditional. Significant plot devices like rain and fire are introduced gently, without causing a distraction from the story. Costumes and props are beautifully coordinated, with a sense of historical accuracy. Time and space is manufactured efficiently with minimal fuss, but every moment looks harmonious and beautiful.

This production of Children Of The Sun gives theatre lovers everything their hearts desire. It entertains, educates and thrills us, and it gives us so much to admire in the talent and skills that it showcases, but it does not provide answers to its own pressing questions. It is a quietly controversial work that makes statements about community, equity and political action. It makes us recognise the importance of social advancement, but seeks not to be divisive. It leaves with us a plea for progress and perhaps a yearning for a new revolution, but it relies on our own benevolence and intelligence to find a way.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Shuffle Show (The Chippendale Hotel)

elenagabrielleVenue: The Chippendale Hotel (Chippendale NSW), Sep 10 – 13, 2014
Playwright: Grant Busé, Elena Gabrielle
Director: Grant Busé, Elena Gabrielle
Cast: Grant Busé, Elena Gabrielle
Image by 3 Fates Media

Theatre review
The Shuffle Show is a cabaret performance in which Grant Busé and Elena Gabrielle play devoted employees of an Apple store. There are many opportunities for sending up these curiously culty creatures of retail, and the duo makes full use of their every quirk to formulate a show that pays homage to the mega brand, and to deliver ceaseless laughter and amusement. “1000 songs in 1 hour” is their tagline, which seems implausible at first, but just five minutes into their stage time and we become convinced that Busé and Gabrielle’s talent and flair can comfortably achieve more than what our mere mortal minds can conceive.

Both performers are effectively multi-skilled, having written and directed the piece themselves to showcase their “triple threat” abilities. Gabrielle sings extraordinary operatic notes, then teases with a burlesque style number, and does a surprising “wigga” impression with a medley of rap classics. The variety of the show’s format allows Gabrielle to explore a delightful breadth of competencies, and witnessing her mischievous exhilaration in embracing different styles is truly joyous. Busé provides accompaniment on his acoustic guitar for virtually the entire duration, and is equally accomplished a singer and comedian. He does not display as great a range as his counterpart, but is consistently funny and tenaciously present. The strength in chemistry and timing between the two is the third star of the show, and their concluding extended dance segment is as unexpected and ridiculous as it is deliriously entertaining.

Through the journey of a thousand songs, we come to realise not just the pervasiveness of pop culture, but also the thoroughness at which our worlds are penetrated by technology and consumption. Steve Jobs is elevated from genius to saint, and we are powerless in the face of immense corporate voracity. The age of the iProduct continues to proliferate and resistance seems increasingly futile, but artistic talent is the one thing left that Goliath has to fear.

www.elenagabrielle.com | www.grantbuse.com

Review: Noise Complaint (The Imperial Hotel)

sarahgaul1Venue: The Imperial Hotel (Erskineville NSW), Sep 9 – 14, 2014
Playwright: Sarah Gaul
Director: Sarah Gaul
Cast: Sarah Gaul

Theatre review
Sarah Gaul writes clever songs, and sings with charming bravado. She talks about things she knows, and reveals the concerns of young adults in Australia. Her themes tend to be more whimsical than sobering, but it is on occasions when she touches briefly on more intimate and sadder disclosures that she shines.

Her original material is strong, more memorable songs include Bad, A.V.O., Streetlights and Homesick. The irony Gaul introduces into her song writing does not always translate with enough edge, but the melancholic quality to her world view is endearing. She does renditions of popular tunes by Leonard Cohen and Iggy Azalea, which showcases her impressive keyboard skills and accomplished use of voice. Her connection with the audience however, requires further development. She seems to shy away from eye contact, choosing to be watched instead of finding a way to engage more closely within the relaxed and cozy setting.

It is encouraging to see a young woman taking on the reins to create a career for herself. Like every independent and courageous artist working against the tides of an increasingly capitalistic economy, Gaul should be admired for making her own dreams come true. Time is on her side, and it is with enthusiasm that one looks forward to new songs and new manifestations from a talent full of ambition and promise.

www.sydneyfringe.com.au

Review: Out Of Gas On Lovers Leap (The Kings Collective)

thekingscollectiveVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 9 – 14, 2014
Writer: Mark St. Germain
Director: Grace Victoria
Cast: David Harrison, Cecelia Peters
Image by Kate Williams Photography

Theatre review
USA in the 1980s was a time of great prosperity, when greed was good and the pursuit of riches seemed the only valid way of life. The pragmatism of money encouraged the dismantling of family units, and children grew up in the care of hired help, while parents explored possibilities in thriving economies. Mark St. Germain’s Out Of Gas On Lovers Leap is a lamentation that looks at two high school sweethearts, Myst and Grouper. Both characters are created with excellent depth and their backgrounds thoroughly elucidated. The script is dark and dangerous, with the aimless and misguided teenage couple discussing confronting subjects like abortion and suicide, and indulging in sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll before our eyes.

The play is about the gravity in these young lives, but Grace Victoria’s direction allows too much frivolity. The production is entertaining, and extremely high energy, but the dark nuances of the text is often lost. We hear the disturbing details of the dialogue but they do not resonate with a sense of urgency and tension. The cast is vibrant and enthusiastic, but they are not given enough instruction and the deeper social connotations of the story are sacrificed for a lot of clamour and amusement.

Cecelia Peters plays Myst, the talented daughter of a pop music celebrity. Peters’ fervour for comedy keeps the show buoyant, and she pushes effectively to create a sense of excitement. Her emotions are intensely portrayed, but not always appropriately so. The role of her boyfriend Grouper is performed by David Harrison, who is equally effervescent. There is a focus to his work that gives it a sense of polish, and he forms a complementary team with Peters, even if sexual chemistry between the two is a little lacking.

Entertainment is an important factor in assessing a theatrical work’s efficacy, and in the case of Out Of Gas On Lovers Leap, its cast does well at keeping us engaged. Not everything on stage needs to have poignancy and profundity but Mark St. Germain’s script requires a treatment that is more sensitive. The message is a serious one, and it needs to be presented with greater severity. The production concludes well, with Peters and Harrison showing wonderful commitment in the final scene, although a change in tone does occur suddenly. It is now thirty years after that fateful night at Lovers Leap, and Generation X is in its middle age, bringing up its own children. The circle of life may be perpetual, but questions relating to the heredity of emotional and psychological damage become increasingly relevant.

www.thekingscollective.com.au

Review: The Chosen (Moira Blumenthal Productions / Encounters@Shalom)

thechosenVenue: Shalom College (Kensington NSW), Aug 27 – Sep 14, 2014
Writer: Aaron Posner, Chaim Potok (from the novel by Chaim Potok)
Director: Moira Blumenthal
Cast: Anthony Darvall, Barry French, Gabriel McCarthy, Daniel Mitchell, Maeliosa Stafford
Image by Geoff Sirmai

Theatre review
The Chosen is the stage adaptation of a well-known 1967 novel of the same name. It features the friendship between two religious teenage boys in Brooklyn, New York. Reuven is a Modern Orthodox Jew and Danny is a Hasidic Jew, and the play showcases their differences wonderfully. Set against World War II and the subsequent revelation of the Holocaust in Europe, this coming of age story is a sentimental, and at times powerful, look at faith, family and friendship.

The script is eventful, with colourful characters and spirited dialogue. Moira Blumenthal’s direction creates distinct personalities that tell their tales with delightful clarity. There is a palpability that feels almost biographical, and along with it, an appealing gravity that keeps us engaged. A particular strength of Blumenthal’s is the seamlessness at which scene transitions are managed. Her use of space and actor positioning is full of flair in the negotiation of the script’s many short sections.

Performances are accomplished, although older members of the cast are quite noticeably stronger. The two young men are comparatively (and understandably) green, but both Gabriel McCarthy and Anthony Darvall show excellent commitment and focus. Daniel Mitchell as Reb Saunders, the spiritual leader of a Hasidic group is especially captivating. The role is a severe one, and Mitchell brings to it a pronounced sense of drama that makes for exhilarant viewing. The actor’s outstanding presence encompasses experience and confidence that lights up the stage.

Stage design is basic, but its elevation helps improve perspectives in a challenging venue. More ambitious is Alistair Wallace’s sound design, which helps manufacture a sense of time and place with creative use of music and effects.

There is a big emphasis on the father-son relationship in The Chosen, but both boys’ mothers are conspicuously missing. We do eventually discover that Reuven’s mother is deceased, but the juxtaposition of a heavily religious context with an all male narrative raises questions about the place of women in these families, and their respective cultural spheres. The story was created in the 1960s, but a production of the play today should take into consideration its skewed gender attitudes, and perhaps its relevance in view of this glaring omission. Nevertheless, this is a staging that speaks to our eternal search for the deeper meanings in life, and our never ending struggle to find political and spiritual peace. Chaim Potok’s text talks about the co-existence of two contradictory truths, an abstract concept that becomes convincing in this depiction of a pure and inspiring friendship.

www.encounters.edu.au

Review: Unholy Ghosts (White Box Theatre / Griffin Theatre Company)

griffintheatreVenue: SBW Stables Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Aug 27 – Sep 20, 2014
Playwright: Campion Decent
Director: Kim Hardwick
Cast: Robert Alexander, James Lugton, Anna Volska
Image by Danielle Lyonne

Theatre review (originally published at Auditorium Magazine)
We often go to the theatre for a dose of fantasy. It can be escapism that we seek, or a quest for inspiration, and it becomes easy to conceive of fantasy as a thing severed from daily lives where in fact, nothing can make good sense unless it bases itself in reality. Campion Decent’s Unholy Ghosts is mostly autobiographical. It deals with family and death, probably the most real of all concepts to undertake, and also the most difficult of things to articulate. Through art and the guise of theatrical fantasy, Decent enacts a way to analyse, heal and mourn the inevitable but deepest losses one can experience.

Family ties are uniquely challenging. Some of us are gifted more pleasant circumstances than others, but we all understand the unyielding nature of those bonds. Regardless of time and distance, only a very few can truly claim to have made clean cuts from their closest blood relations. We all know what family can make us feel, and it is that intensity of love (and hate) that makes Unholy Ghosts immutable and its effects inescapable. Decent’s writing is humorous but gentle, with a sublime melancholy that appeals to the tenderest of our sentiments. Its thorough honesty is quite confronting. We cannot resist empathising, which means that we cannot help but reflect upon the ones we hold dear, and the invisible, but persistently lingering notion of death that threatens and surrounds us.

The characters are named in the programme simply as Son, Mother and Father, and the script provides what seems to be factual information about their lives and defining events through the years, including the tragic passing of the unseen Daughter. It is a compilation of Decent’s recollections, as well as invented scenarios that help with gaining insight, or at least to find some kind of understanding, so that pain can be tamed and the living can move on. The play’s structure is hugely enjoyable. The confusion between fact and fiction, laughter and tears, victims and wrongdoers, creates a complexity that is undeniably resonant in its familiarity.

Direction is provided by Kim Hardwick, who does an excellent job of locating comedy and pathos in every moment, and allowing them to co-exist in an unusual harmony. Liberal amounts of dark humour pervades the stage, but there is also a surprising compassion that always makes its presence felt. We see resentment, anger and bitterness in the family members, but their conflicts only exist for a love that requires resolution. The intimacy of the space gives the audience easy access to the people on stage, and their terrific chemistry keeps us spellbound. Hardwick has achieved the remarkable feat of crafting a show where we fall for all of its characters at first sight. Unholy Ghosts is unashamedly sentimental, but it is also thoughtful. There are very strong emotions that surface towards the conclusion, but they are not of the wallowing type. The play keeps a level head, always maintaining a level of self-examination, which makes the sadness much more profound.

James Lugton plays the Son, a version of the playwright himself. Lugton’s emotional fortitude is a great asset to the production, for he lets us see the depth of suffering a person endures without a need for predictable and obvious gesturing. The strength he portrays is so genuine and pronounced, that it conveys the sorrow that he cannot reveal. The more he strives to keep a positive outlook, the more we hurt. It is a confident performance that deceives us with its relaxed nonchalance. It looks the opposite of melodrama, but its results are more affecting. There are moments however, where the actor seems to lose focus and he trips over lines several times, causing one to wonder if certain sections are less rehearsed. Also periodically distracted is Robert Alexander who plays Father, but like Lugton, his lapses are negligible. Alexander’s work is colourful, and the miserly man he depicts is charmingly comical and unexpectedly likable. The accuracy at which he performs the role of the “regular older man”, is brilliantly reminiscent of the literal and figurative fathers of our lives, complete with annoying quirks and disappointing imperfections. There are actors who win us over even before their first scene finishes, and Alexander is a shining example. His charisma is magical, and partnered with a clear affection for the stage, his creation is one that endears and impresses.

Mother is a creature of flamboyance and mischief, who had bought her son the Bette Midler book, A View From A Broad for his sixteenth birthday. The divine Anna Volska is electrifying. Her work ranges from outlandish and grotesque, to delicate and introspective. It is a tremendous role, and the actor fulfills every brief and requirement. Volska delivers many instances of sheer hilarity, but the delicious poignancy she invokes at every appearance is unforgettable.

Visual design is minimal and unobtrusive. No great flair is showcased, but nothing feels lacking. Sound design assists well with mood changes but several keyboard interludes are slightly too conspicuous and outmoded. In the final scene, lighting makes a drastic transformation to accompany the uplifting end. The choice to shift tone so extravagantly is questionable. It is clear that optimism and the celebration of life is a key message, but stating the case so literally may not be necessary. Also unnecessary is the compulsion to release the audience in such upbeat fashion.

The play’s happy ending however, is solid and convincing. Whether exuberant or subdued, we understand the spiritual and psychological journey that Campion Decent has taken, and we appreciate the position of enlightenment he presents. Life ends and relationships end, and it is their brief temporality that gives them value. We only wish for something to last forever when we know that its end approaches. It is tempting to declare that nothing is eternal, but the fact is that art can outlive us, and great writing endures for generations. How splendid the thought that ghosts can prevail, if the artist’s life is well lived.

www.whiteboxtheatre.com.auwww.griffintheatre.com.au

Review: Out Of Fear (Night Sky Theatre Co)

nightskytheatreVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 3 – 14, 2014
Writer: Dominic Witkop
Director: Garreth Cruikshank
Cast: Chris Miller, Kayla Stanton, Matt Thomson
Image by Geoff Sirmai

Theatre review
There are very dark themes in Dominic Witkop’s Out Of Fear, with murder and destruction in the family unit serving as inspiration. The writer explores masculine anxiety in a heavily surreal world that calls to mind David Lynch’s Lost Highway and its own Jekyll & Hyde references. Witkop’s narrative structure also borrows elements from Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club, such as its unusual take on the love triangle dynamic between two men and a femme fatale. The script is a brave attempt at something left of centre and while it does not avoid feeling derivative at times, it is certainly not run-of-the-mill. Witkop’s mise en scène is innovative, but the text requires further editing. A flair for words is only one of the aspects a playwright needs, and Out Of Fear lacks a greater theatricality in terms of the physicality and temporal dimensions of a live performance.

Direction of the work by Garreth Cruikshank aims to create a sense of conventional storytelling, with an emphasis on realism in character portrayal and development. This contradicts Witkop’s writing style, and misses the opportunity for a more visceral approach to performance. The people look like they exist in our world, but they speak as though from dreamland, with coherence proving a challenge. Surrealist theatre has evolved its own traditions and embellishments, but they are negated on this occasion, except for lighting design that attempts to add a more dramatic dimension to proceedings. Also dramatic is Chris Miller’s performance as Travis, whose energy levels are to be admired. The intensity of the role is a highlight of the production, and Miller’s enthusiasm for his character’s mania is fascinating, if a little repetitive. All three characters feel disappointingly distant, but Miller manages to keep us engaged in many of his scenes.

It is noteworthy that the play’s serious social implications do not overwhelm, and it is to the production’s credit that the work retains an experimental edge that prevents it from turning into something generic or melodramatic. On the other hand, a lost message could result in an exercise that feels somewhat inconsequential. Poignancy may elude it, but the work contains gravity, ambition and an earnestness that gives it a quiet lustre.

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Review: Harry & Liv (Glebe Justice Centre)

harryliv1Venue: Glebe Justice Centre (Glebe NSW), Sep 3 – 6, 2014
Writer: Charlotte Kerr
Cast: Charlotte Kerr, Evan Kerr

Theatre review
Charlotte and Evan Kerr are siblings, and they portray Harry & Liv (also siblings) in this cabaret/musical theatre piece. Harry has been staying over at Liv’s home, causing the place to look a real mess. Harry enjoys being the thorn in his sister’s side, and his constant jibes irritate her as much as the clutter he has unleashed upon her living room. Their sibling rivalry is charming and their banter is entertaining, but the greatest consequence of their squabbles is the music they create around Liv’s exquisite grand piano.

As a work of musical theatre, Charlotte Kerr’s script is delightfully witty, but it would benefit from a narrative that develops more substantially. As a cabaret act, the duo is eminently likeable with very accomplished musical abilities. Charlotte Kerr’s confident and emotive voice has excellent range that sings with humour and beautiful sensitivity. Evan Kerr is a dynamic pianist who keeps the show lively and animated. Song choices can be a little obscure for those of us who are not connoisseurs of the genre, but they are delivered brilliantly, and we cannot help but be impressed by the artists’ thorough familiarity with the material.

It is the simplest of shows, but Harry & Liv is thoroughly enjoyable. The set is economically but effectively arranged and intimately lit, creating a comfortable homely feeling so that the audience is at ease and involved. Indeed, the Kerrs’ hospitality is warm and their company is wondrous. Their talent is the kind that cannot be adequately represented by recorded media, you really do have to be there.

www.facebook.com/harryandlivcabaret

Review: Oedipus Rex (Belvoir St Theatre)

belvoirVenue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Aug 21 – Sep 21, 2014
Dramaturg: Paul Jackson
Director: Adena Jacobs
Cast: Peter Carroll, Andrea Demetriades
Image by Pia Johnson

Theatre review
Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex is a classic tragedy remembered for its themes of fate and incest. Adena Jacobs’ sequel is a vision haunted by a blind and elderly Oedipus in throes of despair, suffering a living hell. His daughter, and sister, Antigone is his carer and companion, but the play features little conversation and no writer is credited. It is poetic and visual theatre, with influence from installation and performance art. Designer Paul Jackson’s creation is a bare clinical space that evokes the cruel agony of hospitals and bureaucratic offices. Ugly false ceiling panels with strategically positioned fluorescent tubes and halogen bulbs provide spine-chilling illumination that emphasise the horrific existence of the man who had been king. The 70-minute experimental work owes more to the paintings of Edvard Munch and Francis Bacon than it does Greek stage traditions. Meaning is created through imagery and sound, with spoken languages taking a back seat. Max Lyandvert’s involvement as composer and sound designer is not always prominent but his efforts are tremendously affecting, and when he does take centre stage, there is no hesitation to grab us by our core to deliver moments of astonishment.

The abstraction in Jacobs’ piece allows for numerous interpretations but the detailed and confronting depiction of an old man under palliative care addresses our universal mortality. The presence and sight of veteran actor Peter Carroll’s bare flesh resonates deeply. Our bodies unite us, and his vulnerable thinness is a visceral reminder of every person’s imminent and inevitable deterioration. The play’s muted narrative opens up the ways in which we can relate to Oedipus. When we no longer see him only as a man with specific circumstances, we are able to recognise more intimately the pain he embodies, and his torment speaks to us all, for true suffering requires no context to connect.

Oedipus Rex is the tour de force of a remarkable actor. Carroll’s performance is powerful and mesmerising, with more depth than any audience can deplete. There is enough drama in every fibre of his being to render narratives gratuitous. His director’s wisdom has allowed the production to strip back on storytelling and rely instead on the actor’s charisma and skill to impress upon us, the essence and soul of this artistic triumph. Carroll’s work is fearless, authentic and assertive, with a sense of traditional Asian theatre forms that focus on the craft of performance itself, rather than using it as a vehicle for saying something else. In this case, we are utterly enthralled by the man on stage, but also aware of the text’s subliminal messages. Antigone is played by Andrea Demetriades who provides solid support. The chemistry between both actors is outstanding, and the palpable trust they have harnessed is the source of many instances of frisson that occur throughout this thoroughly fascinating show.

We indulge in tragic stories because there is an intense beauty that resides in the darkness that befalls the innocent. There is an understanding that bad things can happen to good people, and as much as we strive for goodness, what results may not always be guaranteed. Life is dangerous, because it is uncertain. The ambiguity and risk in Adena Jacobs’ work puts her art in a position that challenges her audience, as well as the state of art production in our communities. Theatre often becomes too predictable and too lazy, and we need agents provocateur like Jacobs and Oedipus Rex to keep it alive.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: Sugarland (ATYP)

atypVenue: ATYP (Walsh Bay NSW), Aug 27 – Sep 13, 2014
Playwright: Rachael Coopes, Wayne Blair
Director: Fraser Corfield, David Page
Cast: Narek Arman, Michael Cameron, Rachael Coopes, Elena Foreman, Hunter Page-Lochard, Dubs Yunupingu
Image by Tracey Schramm

Theatre review
Sugarland is a work about teenagers in Katherine, a remote town in the Northern Territory. The play is performed by young actors, aged 17 to 21, but written by adult artists who have studied the youth of the region over a two-year period. Rachael Coopes and Wayne Blair’s script is powerful in its authenticity, with controversial elements that resonate with a disarming honesty. The truths it reveals, both beautiful and ugly, would be challenging for any audience. Like most memorable work about teenagers, from Puberty Blues (Gabrielle Carey and Kathy Lette) to Kids (Larry Clark), it is the shocking transgressions they depict that leave an impression, and it is precisely the taboo nature of what is being discussed that makes these texts significant and valuable.

Directed by Fraser Corfield and David Page, the production is unexpectedly elegant and subdued. The confronting issues it tackles are not sensationalised. Instead, they are presented in a quietly pragmatic way so that we are prevented from feeling any sense of alienation from its characters. We are seduced into a deceptively cosy world, which in fact contains many aspects that disturb our middle class notions of conventions and acceptability. Corfield and Page’s achievement is in their creation of a political theatre that chooses to speak rationally, rather than to appeal with overblown emotion and hysterical expression. Their gentle approach allows the play’s message to seep through, and to strike a chord where dismissive delusions usually reside.

Performances are not always accomplished, but every actor’s creation on this stage is thoroughly fascinating. The teenage characters seem familiar, but we are provided rare insight into a depth that habitually evades public scrutiny. Dubs Yunupingu plays Nina, a disenfranchised high school girl of indigenous background. Yunupingu has a sensitive quality that we connect with, and a fragility that secures our empathy. The lack of pretension in her craft is refreshing and often very moving. The unhinged Jimmy is portrayed by Hunter Page-Lochard whose impressive presence gives the show a dangerous edge. Page-Lochard is an exuberant performer who brings an exciting unpredictability to his every appearance. Narek Arman is a jovial and charming actor, and his interpretation of the recent Iraqi migrant Aaron is a delightful contrast to the other moodier personalities.

The beginning of political action is awareness, and awareness begins at giving a voice to the disadvantaged. The isolated inhabitants of Sugarland cannot see the privileged lives of its Sydney audience, but their stories and adversities are told to us without ambiguity. They do not seem angry or claim to be desperate, but we know that every young Australian deserves more. The distinction between the haves and the have nots in this lucky country is an unequivocal disgrace, and the journey towards greater equity must be accelerated.

www.atyp.com.au