Review: Disgraced (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Apr 16 – Jun 4, 2016
Playwright: Ayad Akhtar
Director: Sarah Goodes
Cast: Paula Arundell, Glenn Hazeldine, Sachin Joab, Shiv Palekar, Sophie Ross
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
We can all agree that everything is not quite coming up roses in the world today, with terrorists blowing up cities everywhere, and people waging war against one another, all in the name of race and religion. There is no denying that at the root of these catastrophes is hate. Hate that comes in a manner of guises and a range of justifications, but ultimately it all boils down to the simple truth that people are prejudiced and destructive. This is difficult to hear, because life is impossible without believing that humanity is good, so we embrace hope with a kind of blind naivety and evade the truth in order that we may get out of bed and be happy.

Ayad Akhtar demolishes those delusions with Disgraced, in which racist hate is served up plain as day. The characters are intelligent, successful and glamorous, tailor-made so that they are irresistible to bourgeois theatregoers, but their ugly sides emerge, increasingly aggressive over time, and we find ourselves in a state of violation, caused by this transgressive mix of seduction and repulsion. It is at the point where we become intimate with protagonist Amir and the people around him that we see their racism. We are unable to dismiss them because we had already submitted trust, having decided that they are good people, so our minds are in conflict, made to juggle the puzzle pieces that refuse to form an easy picture. In that process of confusion, we reach for a new depth of understanding about our nature and how hate resides in our beings, and how it manifests. In the face of Akhtar’s explicit honesty, we are presented a challenge of interpretation. We recognise the reality of the situation, but we have no convenient way of dealing with the information. The big mess of life is truer than the circumscribed narratives we use to arrange our thoughts, and in this play, that chaos is allowed to rear its ugly head, without a false sense of resolution to contain our anxieties. Bad things happen because there are people with hate in their hearts. Getting to know them is important, but not having anywhere to go thereafter is the conundrum.

It is a stunning and explosive script that drops bombs at regular intervals to unnerve, to disarm and most of all, to confront. It is a response to the undeniable horrors around us that involves no sugar-coating, and no rose-tinted glasses. It is a brutal piece of writing, made only more powerful by its ability to tell us the worst while it secures our unwavering attention. Sarah Goodes’ direction delivers that brutality with a blunt but measured force. Her ability to communicate details no matter how subtle, makes this staging an enriching and enlightening experience. She draws attention to nuances that are missed in our daily interaction with the subject matter, dismantling our habit of two-minute sound bites and 140 character tweets, in exchange for a more thorough study on the state of our world.

Amir is among the most important characters to have appeared in recent theatre history. His experience is ubiquitous but virtually never brought to light. There is shame, fear and danger associated with his story, so our impulses tell us to keep it buried, for we are afraid of the controversies he represents, and we worry about the people he offends. Performing the role is Sachin Joab, exhilarating, authentic and alluring in his depiction of the Pakistani-American caught in a moment of crisis. Joab brings extraordinary illumination to the tremendous complexity of his part, presenting a great deal of insight into a psychology that we all need to know. His work is emotional and vulnerable, but the actor is also able to convey an unmistakeable menace that is central to the play’s effectiveness. Joab overwhelms us with his talent and conviction, and leaves an indelible impression with his remarkable grace. Also exquisite is Elizabeth Gadsby’s set design, providing a backdrop of sophistication and class to a tale about social status and division. The configuration of spaces caters cleverly to all seats in the auditorium, offering excellent perspective and a beautiful vista from every angle.

This is a show full of tension, with its drama derived from issues of the day that are usually too unseemly to discuss in frankness. The action happens in an exclusive New York apartment, but we all have a stake in the subject matter. Peace will benefit everyone, but in its pursuance, we all seem to be losers. In the middle of a war, we are never sure if anything that we say or do will contribute to making things better, but regardless of context, art must always reveal the truth. We cannot mend what is broken without knowing its problems and although a bitter pill is hard to swallow, there is no escaping it. In Disgraced, characters have to drop their pretences and acknowledge the cold, hard fact that their world is in turmoil, but whether they can bring about improvements, or revert to their previous delusions, is not a question anybody has a definitive answer for.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Lake Disappointment (Carriageworks)

carriageworksVenue: Carriageworks (Eveleigh NSW), Apr 20 – 23, 2016
Playwrights: Luke Mullins, Lachlan Philpott
Director: Janice Muller
Cast: Luke Mullins
Image by James Brown

Theatre review
Many of us hold menial jobs. Things need to get done by people (even in this age of high technology) that require little more than a person’s presence and some physical exertion. Lake Disappointment is a unique story about a man who spends his life being the body double of a film star. His mental capacities are barely involved in the daily operations of his full-time and isolating occupation, so his mind’s energy goes into constant dialogue with himself. With little opportunity for social interaction, he is in a state of perpetual reflection, but with little stimulation or nourishment, his intellect is stunted and his life stagnates. Written by Luke Mullins and Lachlan Philpott, the script is a wonderful look into a weird existence. Through the portrayal of an unusual creature, it offers insightful contemplations about the human condition, and all its egotistical propensities for ambition, jealousy and delusion.

It is a funny piece of writing, with nuanced but easily identifiable humour. We laugh at the character’s vanity and his aspirations, because we recognise those qualities. The desires and emotions in the play are deeply familiar in spite of their obscure context. Direction by Janice Muller establishes a gentle approach to the jokes, but atmosphere is imbued with an intensity from the very start. An unmistakeable swelling of tension progresses slowly through the show, but its scenes are not always dynamic. Mullins plays the role with an abundance of charisma, but the very controlled tone of delivery he chooses for his character eventually becomes repetitive. It is a disciplined performance with a lot of palpable gravitas that needs a healthy dose of oppositional lightness to deliver an even more engaging experience.

Designers for the staging do a marvellous job of creating a work of theatre that is sleek, sensual and surprising. Lights by Matt Cox, along with Michael Hankin’s set design make fabulous use of space, not only to guide our emotional responses, but also to manufacture visual symbols that help develop the story to a richer depth. Sound is managed by James Brown who accesses our impulses through an acute sensitivity, providing revelations beyond the dimension of words and matter.

Life is demanding. We have to be strong and courageous to weather its storms, but no matter how good we become at dealing with life, our individual insignificance in the scheme of things is ultimately undeniable. People want so much, and we try so hard for things that may eventually mean little. The body double in Lake Disappointment talks about himself incessantly but does not question his desires. He works hard at life but does not reflect on any of his actions or thoughts. It is a life unexamined, where the subject conspires with his circumstances to keep himself entrapped, like a hamster on its wheel, running without rhyme or reason, unable to stop, unable to reach any destination.

www.carriageworks.com.au

Review: Hay Fever (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Apr 11 – May 21, 2016
Playwright: Noël Coward
Director: Imara Savage
Cast: Briallen Clarke, Tom Conroy, Alan Dukes, Harriet Dyer, Genevieve Lemon, Tony Llewellyn-Jones, Josh McConville, Heather Mitchell, Helen Thomson
Images by Lisa Tomasetti

Theatre review
Judith Bliss and her family share an exquisite sense of humour, as well as dubious moral standards. They live out their self-obsession like a flamboyant form of high art, entangling unsuspecting acquaintances into their shenanigans, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality. Noël Coward’s Hay Fever is the pinnacle of British wit, transcending time and space with a style of frivolity that does not seem to age. Whether silly or edgy, the play’s air of sophistication never falters. Intelligent but not intellectual, it gives us feather light humour without ever being patronising. A sheer delight for fans of theatre, and rambunctious fun for those on stage.

Director Imara Savage finds room for creativity, and exercises her artistic freedom while retaining all the best of Coward’s essence. Savage’s rendition seems faithful to the writer’s milieu, even though its sensibilities are thoroughly modern, revealing an instinctive ability to locate the timeless and perhaps universal elements of the play. These are not characters with profound messages to convey but they offer opportunities for imaginative and extravagant use of the theatrical platform, and Savage certainly rises to that challenge. Her show is visually exciting, with an infectiously exuberant spirit that overflows the stage and demands our attention. Set and costume design by Alicia Clements is sublime. The Bliss home is rendered with a bohemian rustic beauty, and costumes although effortless, are rich with glamour and sex appeal.

A host of larger than life personalities is created with wild abandon by a remarkable ensemble, led by Heather Mitchell who appears to have amassed inexhaustible tricks up her sleeve for the depiction of a prima donna, and her Judith is spectacularly resplendent in grandiosity and excess. Performances in the production are exaggerated, but also nuanced and thoughtful. Grand gestures and overstatements are appropriately supported by its dramatic “show within a show” context. Tom Conroy and Harriet Dyer play Judith’s children, both powerfully inventive in their approach, using the entirety of their beings to embody the outlandish Bliss siblings. Conroy and Dyer are charming, funny and captivating actors whose creations are as engaging as they are eccentric.

In Hay Fever, there are the Blisses, and then there is everybody else. The world seems to be split into vibrant and dull, colourful and ordinary. It is a story about the joie de vivre that we should all be mindful of holding dear, no matter what age we find ourselves in life’s journey. Playfulness is a trait that many are afraid of. In the process of growing up and in the pursuit of individual ambitions, we often find ourselves feeling defeated by the ravages of time, and we begin to lose our natural lustre as optimism becomes hard to preserve. Judith and her loved ones live like there is no tomorrow. Fearless and audacious, they forge ahead, devouring all that life has to offer.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Best Brothers (The Old 505 Theatre)

old505Venue: Old 505 Theatre @ 5 Eliza St (Newtown NSW), Apr 13 – 30, 2016
Playwright: Daniel MacIvor
Director: Gareth Boylan
Cast: Sean Lynch, Johann Walraven

Theatre review (of a preview performance)
Like many other brothers, Hamilton and Kyle Best are not an affectionate pair. There is something about the closeness of siblings that can often prevent them from expressing tenderness for each other; a kind of certainty and confidence resides in their bond that renders physical and verbal assurances of love unnecessary. Of course, there is also the issue of maleness, of always assuming a hard exterior in the daily practice of gender, that ensures minimal sentimentality between men. Canadian playwright Daniel MacIvor’s The Best Brothers is a quirky look at family dynamics and a witty depiction of contemporary masculinity. Its comedy is subtle and unconventional, but deeply charming.

Gareth Boylan’s quiet, almost stoic approach as director provides a stylish framework for our enjoyment of the Bests. There is a story to be followed, but the play’s real concern is its characters and relationships, and Boylan’s unique aesthetic is a delightful aperture through which we explore the brothers, their mother and her dog. It is a smartly designed production, with just enough lighting and sound embellishment adding interest, in order that our senses may engage meaningfully. Set design is sleek and effective, although greater care should probably go into the masking of wings to minimise distraction from backstage activity.

Playing Kyle is Sean Lynch, dynamic and affable, with a charismatic presence bringing authenticity to the show’s artfully minimalist aura. The performer has strong instincts that allow him to connect well with viewers, and is often very entertaining with minute flourishes revealing an inventive mind. Equally enthusiastic is Johann Walraven as Hamilton, memorable for demonstrating a strong conviction but is perhaps less suited to the material at hand. There is good chemistry to be found between the two, and although their show is a well-rehearsed one, more nuance could be developed for greater emotional response. At the centre of The Best Brothers is a process of mourning, but sorrow seems to be missing from the men’s antics and high jinks. They spend all their energy taking care of things on the surface, so that no time is left for grief, allowing us only glimpses of truth behind their shiny exteriors. The Bests never wallow. Eruptions are left to subside on their own, while they keep calm and carry on.

www.venue505.com/theatre

Review: Good People (Ensemble Theatre)

ensembleVenue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Apr 7 – May 21, 2016
Playwright: David Lindsay-Abaire
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Gael Ballantyne, Drew Livingston, Tara Morice, Zindzi Okenyo, Jane Phegan, Christopher Stollery
Image by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
When a baby is born, we want to think that the world is their oyster, and where they are today will have little bearing on where they may end up many years after. In David Lindsay-Abaire’s Good People, we meet two people with roots in the same rough part of town, but whose lives have taken drastically different turns over time. One is enjoying the fruits of a meteoric rise up the socio-economic ladder, while the other finds herself stagnated in poverty. It is a thoughtful play about opportunity and privilege, with the most basic of narratives, but its sharp-witted dialogue is expertly crafted not only to stimulate our minds but also to deliver some very big and clever laughs.

Tara Morice leads a formidable cast in a production that will be remembered for its outstanding quality of acting. Morice’s humour is acerbic but subtle, much like her character Margaret’s resentment. Bitterness is not her predominant feature, but it emerges periodically to overtake her easy exterior and everyone is caught off guard. The actor never makes a big deal of her punchlines, but the dryness of her delivery is somehow no inhibition to the power of her comedy. Morice is absolutely hilarious on stage, yet is able to communicate all of Margaret’s complexities with thorough clarity. Hers is not a life that every bourgeois theatregoer is familiar with, but her performance illustrates each detail and essence so that we achieve a level of understanding that feels exhaustive and genuine. Christopher Stollery’s skills are on par, and the combination of the two is pure theatrical gold. Stollery’s captivating performance brings an electrifying playfulness keeping us engrossed and alert, while portraying his character Mike with an unyielding sincerity that prevents him from turning caricature. In the role of Kate is Zindzi Okenyo who presents surprising nuance for a woman determined not to reveal much. The actor’s flair for comedy is showcased beautifully, and her warm presence brings a valuable dignity to her part in the story.

Direction by Mark Kilmurry is faithful to the spirit of the work, and provides an honest voice to the underclass being represented in Good People. Our protagonist is neither deified nor demonized, so we are able to recognise her humanity and empathise with the injustices she experiences. There is a wise restraint evident throughout the production, demonstrating Kilmurry’s emphasis on truth over the temptation to play for laughs, resulting in a show that perfectly balances its entertainment value with its sociological ideas. Working hard does not guarantee your dreams coming true, and making the right choices does not mean glory at the end of each journey. Life is not fair, and fortune will not fall evenly on every individual. Nature will take its course, but humans can take charge of our own fates. The play is about people helping each other, a simple and fundamental virtue that we should all possess, but like many virtues, we seem to leave it an abstract concept while we practise something quite contrary.

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: Shut Up And Drive (Subtlenuance Theatre)

subtlenuanceVenue: Kings Cross Theatre Kings Cross NSW), Apr 9 – 23, 2016
Playwright: Paul Gilchrist, Daniela Giorgi
Director: Paul Gilchrist
Cast: Kit Bennett, Bonnie Kellett, Sam Glissan, Sonya Kerr, Jordie MacKinnon, Maddy McWilliam, Tom Nauta, Robert Roworth, Eli Saad, Michael Smith

Theatre review
It is hard to care for the environment. Lives in developed countries have grown to depend on an exploitation of our planet that now requires much more than giving up aerosol cans and recycling newspapers to offer reparation. Paul Gilchrist and Daniela Giorgi’s Shut Up And Drive talks about our love/hate relationship and dependence on cars, examining the extent at which we have allowed the automobile to become indispensable. It looks at the way we blind ourselves to its negative impact, so that we may indulge in a sordid affair with the metal beast.

Gilchrist and Giorgi’s writing is about social and environmental responsibility, but it comes from a place of generosity that acknowledges human fallibility. It points out the things that we do wrong, but it is forgiving of our actions. It shows us how we can be better custodians of earth, but the choice is ours to make. Shut Up And Drive is often funny, and sometimes touching. Its intents are serious, and can sometimes fall into a didactic tone, but its short scenes and colourful characters ensure that the play always has a sense of intrigue and enjoyment. At every step, the plot provides something to think about, but is also consistently amusing.

Gilchrist does excellent work as director for the show’s many intimate scenes. He establishes strong chemistry between players, and brings a delightful variation in tone between moments to keep us attentive. Liam O’Keefe’s lights make a significant contribution in achieving those atmospheric transitions with great efficacy and minimal fuss.

Actors Tom Nauta and Eli Saad partner up for two memorable sequences that employ their individual and divergent comedic styles. Nauta’s ostentation and Saad’s wryness meet like hot oil and water for riveting and combustible results. Also very funny is Sam Glissan, a quirky individual with an idiosyncratic approach to performance that tickles all the funny bones. On the other end of the spectrum is Kit Bennett who leaves a remarkable impression with her sensitive portrayal of loss and regret. Her work is delicate and understated but disarmingly captivating, with an intense emotional power.

When we talk about environmentalism, conservation and sustainability, we are in fact talking about the future. Shut Up And Drive has a caring heart, and does its best to connect with our conscience. It makes us question how we feel about all this degradation, and presents a test of our selfishness. The car represents comfort, convenience and luxury, but it is also undoubtedly harmful on many levels. Life’s decisions are full of complications, but often, we actually do know right from wrong.

www.subtlenuance.com

Review: The Great Fire (Belvoir St Theatre)

belvoirVenue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Apr 2 – May 8, 2016
Playwright: Kit Brookman
Director: Eamon Flack
Cast: Sarah Armanious, Peter Carroll, Lynette Curran, Eden Falk, Sandy Gore, Shelly Lauman, Marcus McKenzie, Geoff Morrell, Yalin Ozucelik, Genevieve Picot
Image by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
For many people, having children is considered natural and something that does not require questioning. In Kit Brookman’s The Great Fire, we see the complications that arise, not when toddlers are misbehaving, but when children become adults and their struggles can no longer be quelled by their parents. Judith and Patrick are affluent Australians of the baby boomer generation, with a strong marriage and three grown children. The couple is in their 60s and is beginning to contemplate their autumn years. Unlike their own parents, Judith and Patrick do not have the luxury of only considering their own needs. Their children might be adults, but they are not yet financially independent.

The Great Fire is about one family’s woes, but also an experience shared by many. For what seems to be the first time in human history, apron strings have become hard to sever. With the aggressive growth of capitalism occurring at the same time as baby boomers having children, much of the world has now evolved into a new economy where the chasm between the haves and have-nots is larger than ever. Judith and Patrick never foresaw that their offspring would find it hard to make a living, and certainly never expected their retirement plans to include their children’s well-being, but the current state of the world is no longer offering the same opportunities. The younger generation is brought up in the image of their parents, and they find themselves lost in this new social system, where no one is guaranteed an income, and where building careers is a privilege increasingly out of reach.

The story is not an easy one to articulate. We are perhaps too close and too new to its concepts, and unable to see the forest for the trees. Brookman’s script contains many ideas, observations and philosophies, all relevant to contemporary life, and even though it is admirable that the work feels uncompromised, it is not always focused enough for dramatics to work effectively. The plot is long and meandering, often with enjoyable moments but also overly complicated and overladen by details. Nevertheless, characters and their narratives are authentic, and we recognise their individual challenges easily and intimately. Direction by Eamon Flack brings attention to the wider social aspects of the family drama. We are not left indulging in bourgeois pettiness, but are asked to consider the play’s bigger contexts, which affect us all. The Great Fire takes its time to get to the point, but the poignancy at its end is deeply satisfying.

Production design is accomplished with quiet elegance, and Michael Hankin’s set is undeniably beautiful. Sound and lights are gently executed, making their presence felt without drawing undue attention. There is excellent chemistry in performances that makes us believe in the play’s complex family dynamics. Genevieve Picot brings a warm and organic instinct to her portrayal of Judith, while Peter Carroll and Yalin Ozucelik leave strong impressions in their powerful and prominent stage moments. It is not a simple piece to communicate, but the actors convince us of its core messages.

The characters in The Great Fire do not live in poverty, but their struggles are real. Like most of us, they have obligations that need to be met, but resources always seem to lag behind. We may have learned life lessons from our parents, but we do not always realise that the skills they had acquired for their lives may no longer be sufficient for dealing with ours. When we bring children into the world, optimism can overwhelm and blind us from the cold face of reality, and how much protection a parent can afford seems always to be a difficult question. The pursuit of prosperity is linked to what our planet can give. There is no end to how much we want, but the planet is finite, and we feel very close to that limit.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: The Naked Truth (Act IV Theatre)

activVenue: Blood Moon Theatre (Potts Point NSW), Apr 6 – 16, 2016
Playwright: Dave Simpson
Director: Ruth Fingret
Cast: Melanie Araya, Kaitlin de Lacy, Hayley Flowers, Jeannie Gee, Melinda Ryan, Wendy Winkler

Theatre review
A small group of women in Northern England sign up for a pole dancing class. They learn little about the art form, but end up with deep knowledge about themselves. Dave Simpson’s The Naked Truth is a classic British comedy, featuring colourful people, naughty jokes, ordinary adversities and a very feel good ending. The play is predictable in many ways, but its formula is tried and tested, and we cannot help but get drawn into its sentimentalities, and become emotionally invested into its various narratives of human drama. The bawdy jokes give an occasional edge that helps prevent it from becoming too sappy, with its humour cleverly positioned within the plot to create enjoyable mood fluctuations.

The cast of six is clearly dedicated and invigorated, but they struggle to find a naturalistic tone that the writing requires. Although the production is awkwardly stagy, admirable effort is put into its comedy. Kaitlin de Lacy and Melinda Ryan especially, hit many of their punchlines effectively, delivering big laughs and delighting us with their enthusiastic portrayals of larger than life women. Jeannie Gee as Sarah gives the show a sense of authenticity, with sensitive moments that are truly touching, and Melania Araya’s gravity-defying skills on the pole are simply staggering.

The women in The Naked Truth hold each other up, in spite of all their differences. They each make their individual life choices, and have encountered dissimilar obstacles, but with the strength of their sisterhood, are able to find ways to provide support for one another. It is a poignant story about how people can live in love and harmony, without having to conform and assimilate. It encourages each person to embrace their own uniqueness, and shows us how to appreciate others for their idiosyncrasies; a lesson which is probably the most important thing to learn in these days of fracture and pervasive segregation.

www.activtheatreco.com

Review: The Big Bruise (Montague Basement)

montagueVenue: 107 Projects (Redfern NSW), Apr 5 – 16, 2016
Playwright: Saro Lusty-Cavallari
Director: Saro Lusty-Cavallari
Cast: Samuel Brewer
Image by Omnes Photography

Theatre review
A young man is contemplating suicide. At work, at play and at home, it is all that he thinks about. Saro Lusty-Cavallari’s meditation on the subject is neither emotional nor intellectual, but what he does present in The Big Bruise is an honest representation that many are able to recognise. It is a work about the lightness and indeed meaninglessness, that life can appear to possess. The character in the play is lost and aimless, with only the temptation of death offering him a true force of gravity. In comparison, everything else is inconsequential and impotent, so he hangs on to his obsession and the certainty it provides.

Performing that strange amalgamation of angst and frivolity is Samuel Brewer, an engaging actor whose confident presence is called upon to give solid grounding to the piece. Brewer is an energetic performer, whether playing brash or subdued, with an audacious power to his delivery that keeps us transfixed. The one-man show is beautifully placed on a raw stage, thoughtfully designed by Lusty-Cavallari to convey the calm but troubled state of being in which his creation resides. Improvements could be made for a more absorbing experience, but its visceral and surprisingly sensual qualities leave a strong impression.

The protagonist in The Big Bruise wants so much of life, but spends all his efforts at ending it. It is true that identifying one’s passions can be the biggest challenge a person can face, for what happens thereafter is simply to follow that calling. For some, that revelation never arrives, but for most, it is only a matter of time. We can wait for that divine moment in passivity or we can be constructive and find ways to speed up that process. If all else fails, one should simply stop the narcissistic act of perpetual introspection and look beyond the individual, for much of the world is in need of love and care, if only we could shift our fruitless vanity onto something altruistic and altogether more selfless.

www.montaguebasement.com

Review: Replay (Griffin Theatre Company)

griffinVenue: SBW Stables Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Apr 2 – May 7, 2016
Playwright: Phillip Kavanagh
Director: Lee Lewis
Cast: Jack Finsterer, Alfie Gledhill, Anthony Gooley
Image by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
It is an experimental script that plays with the elasticity of characters. We expect a certain amount of consistency from personalities in plays, and indeed in life, but Phillip Kavanagh’s Replay uses the idea of regret as motivation, to allow people in his story to go back in time to make amends, thus altering histories that lead to the present being inevitably changed. The concept fascinates, but the unconventional plot disrupts any emotional arc that could take hold, and we are presented with the challenge of engaging with characters who never become familiar.

The production is elegantly formed, with only minimal amounts of embellishment indicating its supernatural qualities. Director Lee Lewis is intent on giving a sense of authenticity to every moment, which results in scenes that are individually captivating, but the unusual writing prevents a feeling of poignancy to translate even though the intensity on stage is unmistakeable.

Performances are lively, with actors tending to do a little more than is necessary, but their energy and cohesive chemistry make them an endearing group that sustains our interest throughout the piece. Jack Finsterer is particularly delightful. Even when adopting the show’s animated tone of performance, the actor is able to retain a psychological and emotional accuracy amidst the constantly shifting time and space in which we find ourselves. Alfie Gledhill and Anthony Gooley are expressive actors who bring logic and coherence to a narrative that can easily turn confusing, both with a spirited approach that provides solid entertainment.

We have all experienced regret, and many of us have pasts that hold on too tightly. In our fantasies, the rules of time can be broken, and we can make every wrong right, so that life becomes completely disencumbered. Life without any difficulty is however, akin to death. It is fundamental to humanity that we strive to make things better. Stillness is a privilege that everyone must be able to savour every so often, but the essence of life is in its movement; of forging ahead, and of growing up. Regression can be made to look real on stage, but it ultimately is of service to no one. Looking back is sometimes necessary, but care must be taken so that we do not remain shackled by histories. It is the great unknown of the future that requires our attention, and we must endeavour to make the most of it.

www.griffintheatre.com.au