Review: The Humans (Old Fitz Theatre)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Sep 5 – Oct 7, 2018
Playwright: Stephen Karam
Director: Anthea Williams
Cast: Di Adams, Madeleine Jones, Arky Michael, Diana McLean, Reza Momenzada, Eloise Snape
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
It is Thanksgiving and as is customary for American families, the Blakes gather to mark the occasion. All do their best to make it a joyous evening, but each have individual lives that are not going at all well. Stephen Karam’s The Humans talks about the hardship of modern existence for our lower-middle classes, and explores the resilience required to survive, with family being a source of strength that can provide some degree of support and grounding. It is an exceptionally subtle work, but intensely intriguing, that lures us deep into a discussion about concerns that are perhaps not immediately apparent.

The show is surprisingly entertaining, considering the coyness of its approach. Director Anthea Williams introduces a generous quotient of dramatic tension to accompany the deceivingly mundane goings on, and comedy aspects are certainly very well executed under her supervision. Family dynamics feel authentic, with a bitter-sweetness that many will find strangely comforting.

An ensemble of six likeable personalities take us through the messy business of celebrations at home, with Di Adams especially compelling as Deirdre, whose suffering is demonstrated palpably alongside a zest for life, for a splendid depiction of human spirit at its best. Similarly poignant is Eloise Snape’s performance as Aimee, a young woman with little to be grateful for, but who we see sustained by an extraordinary inner strength. The actor delivers some gloriously funny moments, whilst portraying, terribly convincingly, a painfully tragic character.

These people face considerable challenges, but loneliness is not one of their problems. They are unable to fix each other, but their love does try to conquer all. For those who have family to rely on, it is a refuge that can soothe the ravages of life, and that provides the assurance that for all the anxieties we must endure, an embrace is always there waiting. Home is where the heart is, and those who have a way back, must count themselves lucky.

www.redlineproductions.com.au

Review: Jersey Boys (Capitol Theatre)

Venue: Capitol Theatre (Sydney NSW), from Aug 29
Music: Bob Gaudio
Lyrics: Bob Crewe
Book: Marshall Brickman, Rick Elice
Director: Des McAnuff
Cast: Ryan Gonzalez, Cameron MacDonald, Thomas McGuane, Glaston Toft, Mia Dabkowski-Chandler, Cristina D’Agostino, Sage Douglas, Mackenzie Dunn, Glenn Hill, Luigi Lucente, Enrico Mammarella, Scott McConnell, Joshua Mulheran, Jack O’Riley, Matthew Prime, Daniel Raso, Rutene Spooner
Images by Jeff Busby

Theatre review
The Four Seasons have sold an estimated 100 million records, a figure virtually unheard of in the industry today. Jersey Boys takes place in the 1960s, when young American talents were able to think of the music industry as a realistic means of striking rich. A highly effective jukebox musical, filled with colourful characters and an infallible inventory of songs, the show is the proverbial, and predictable, rollicking ride, designed for sheer entertainment.

This Australian revival features an exceptional cast, with Ryan Gonzalez particularly mesmerising as Frankie Valli, complete with that trademark falsetto, celestial and ineffable. Gonzalez’s vocal abilities are a sublime joy from start to end, and his stage presence proves astonishingly compelling, despite his slight stature. He gives his all to the performance, leaving us thrilled and wanting more.

Cameron MacDonald too, is wonderful as Tommy DeVito, founding member of the group and charming villain of the piece. Brilliantly wicked, and quite alluring, MacDonald impresses with flawless timing, proving himself indispensable to the production’s dramatic effectiveness. Also noteworthy is supporting player Rutene Spooner, who sparkles in all his guises, and has us flummoxed by the incredibly nimble athleticism of his voice, whenever he is given an opportunity to sing.

We can easily tire of rags to riches stories; they rarely deviate from structures that are rigidly conventional. The magic of live musical performance however, is boundlessly and fantastically uplifting. Singers and musicians have the potential to move us in profound ways, and on this occasion, their renditions of these half-century old songs, have certainly hit the mark.

www.jerseyboys.com.au

Review: The Maids (Glitterbomb / 25A Belvoir)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Aug 25 – Sep 15, 2018
Playwright: Jean Genet (translated by Bernard Frechtmann)
Director: Carissa Licciardello
Cast: Alexandra Aldrich, Skyler Ellis, Amanda McGregor
Images by Jasmin Simmons

Theatre review
Jean Genet’s The Maids is based on a 1933 murder in France. A pair of sisters work as maids in a rich man’s house, isolated from the rest of the world. Their shared oppression turns them monstrous, as they gradually bring to fruition, the heinous contents of their imagination. We may no longer, in the West, have servants of that kind, but it is a story that draws parallels with the many inequalities that persist, or are in fact escalating, in these supposedly modern times. We look at the birth of evil, from evil, and are made to consider the repercussions of a society determined to maintain its hierarchies.

Carissa Licciardello directs an extraordinarily intense and flamboyant production, using Genet’s macabre poetry to inspire a marvellous sense of heightened drama. Three wonderful actors work in perfect tandem, delivering a sensational piece of grotesque theatre, intriguing and powerful with what they bring to the stage. Alexandra Aldrich and Amanda McGregor play the sisters, both commanding in presence, as Claire and Solange, compelling from beginning to end, even when Genet’s writing turns impenetrable and obtuse. Male actor Skyler Ellis takes on the role of Madame with aplomb, demonstrating excellent nuance alongside the role’s predictable extravagance. Watching the maids feud with a man, creates a fresh intellectual dimension, helping the old play speak with more pertinence than it would otherwise have.

Humans have an insatiable desire to control one another. Our thirst for power, when untamed, has the ability to blind us to the fact that people’s freedoms are always essential. Compromises can be reached in all our interactions, of course, but it is clear that transgressions occur frequently, with or without our acknowledgement. The servants have no choice but to submit to the consequences of their poverty, but when people are subjected to conditions unnatural and perverse, it is certain that morbidity will result.

www.dasglitterbomb.com | www.belvoir.com.au

Review: The Misanthrope (Bell Shakespeare / Griffin Theatre Company)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Aug 28 – Sep 28, 2018
Playwright: Molière (a new version by Justin Fleming)
Director: Lee Lewis
Cast: Simon Burke, Danielle Cormack, Catherine Davies, Ben Gerrard, Rebecca Massey, Hamish Michael, Anthony Taufa
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Alceste believes that the only truths are the ones in her own head, refusing to accept any behaviour she perceives to be contrary, and charges them all with hypocrisy. As fate would have it, her lover Cymbeline is no believer in fidelity, and when Alceste has to confront Cymbeline’s covert flirtations with several others, matters of the head and heart come to agonising conflict, in this tale about how we value our principles. Justin Fleming’s new adaptation of Molière’s The Misanthrope brings the play into our contemporary times, by immersing it deep into our obsession with popular culture, and even more significantly, by altering the genders of its key roles.

Alceste is now a woman, played by Danielle Cormack, a powerful and captivating presence, appropriately representing the influential position of our lead character, although a persistently sombre approach to the central role, does significantly diminish the humour of the piece. Cymbeline, previously Célimène, is now a male pop star, convincingly portrayed by Ben Gerrard who luxuriates in the part’s farcical narcissism. Sexuality is turned entirely fluid in this rendition of The Misanthrope, with every personality capable of gay and straight love, and orientation is no longer a concern.

The production looks vivid, absolutely glitzy at times, with Dan Potra’s very flashy costumes leaving a particularly strong impression, but the show is often underwhelming, unable to excite with its comedy or philosophies. Director Lee Lewis succeeds at making things modern and coherent, but an air of banality does, unfortunately, pervade.

Passion for one’s beliefs, is often the propulsion that moves us to greater planes, but it is perhaps more exigent than ever, that we should learn as societies, to accommodate the opinions of others at these very fractious times. Unable to reconcile her disdain for all that is dishonest and insincere, Alceste is increasingly isolated, ultimately left only with a doctrine that has achieved nothing. It is a huge challenge, to hold on to what is right, yet able to negotiate all the contrarians that inevitably surround. To find the answer to our peace is difficult, but imperative.

www.bellshakespeare.com.au | www.griffintheatre.com.au

Review: The Secret Singer (Darlinghurst Theatre Company)

Venue: Eternity Playhouse (Darlinghurst NSW), Aug 28 – Sep 9, 2018
Playwright: Joanna Weinberg
Songs: Joanna Weinberg
Director: Joanna Weinberg
Cast: Genevieve Lemon, Kate Mannix
Images by Stephen Reinhardt

Theatre review
Jenny wants to sing in seven different choirs, one for each day of the week. It is a particularly unusual ambition, considering she has been unable to vocalise a single note in public, for the last ten years. When she reaches out to singing teacher Emjay for help, a deep connection instantly develops between the two, in Joanna Weinberg’s The Secret Singer, for a meaningful story about the fragile yet resilient human spirit.

Weinberg’s style as writer and director, is naive but tender, and her show, while not glossy with polish, is an uplifting and soulful work, that resonates with our indomitable capacity for hope. In the role of Emjay, performer Genevieve Lemon brings great warmth to the production; her earnest approach has the ability to convert any sceptic. Kate Mannix plays Jenny, with a gentle but effective humour, capturing our imagination with her confident interpretation of a very likeable character. Also noteworthy is Matthew Reid’s musical accompaniment on keyboard, impressive with its technical accuracy and emotional sensitivity.

To sing out loud, is to assert one’s position in the world. There are many who will want to silence others, and in that figurative stealing of voices, people are rendered powerless. It takes courage to sing, just as it takes courage to live with authenticity and joyfulness. Our communities can be supportive, but they can also be stifling. When choirs do their job well, all voices are heard, and no one is allowed to be drowned out. Harmony is not easy to achieve, but it is what our social selves must always strive for.

www.darlinghursttheatre.com

Review: She Loves Me (Hayes Theatre)

Venue: Hayes Theatre Co (Potts Point NSW), Aug 24 – Sep 15, 2018
Book: Joe Masteroff
Music: Jerry Bock
Lyrics: Sheldon Harnick
Director: Erin James
Cast: Caitlin Berry, Zoe Gertz, Joel Granger, Jay James-Moody, Tony Llewellyn-Jones, Kurt Phelan, Suzanne Steele, Georgina Walker, Rowan Witt
Images by Noni Carroll
Theatre review
Balash and Nowack have been exchanging anonymous love letters, unaware that they are colleagues, both working at the same cosmetics store. Based on Miklós László’s 1937 play Parfumerie, the musical She Loves Me first appeared 1963 on Broadway, and although a terribly old-fashioned story, its songs are utterly and eternally charming, still able to delight audiences today. Its characters are perhaps no longer believable, and they present little that we can relate to, but the show would most certainly appeal to those seeking a healthy dose of nostalgia in their entertainment.

Musical direction for this revival, is executed wonderfully by Steven Kreamer, who breathes new ebullient life into these half-century-old songs. His team of musicians, along with David Grigg’s sound design, deliver for our ears, an unexpectedly rich and exciting experience. Choreography by Leslie Bell, too, is enchanting, bringing to the stage a sense of extravagance that consistently fascinates our senses.

Much of the comedy in She Loves Me is outdated, but several big laughs are had when supporting player Jay James-Moody occupies centre stage; his comic inventiveness is an absolute godsend. Caitlin Berry and Rowan Witt are the leads, both excellent singers, with strong presences that manage to sustain our attention, even when the story wanes. Director Erin James keeps the production active and energetic, but the plot’s flimsiness seems impossible to rectify.

The nature of romance changes with time. In the Tinder age, we are encouraged to always anticipate the next better thing. Unlike us, people of Balash and Nowack’s generation were more likely to believe in that one true love, at a time when moving mountains to find them, had seemed a completely reasonable thing to do. The stakes are significantly lower now, as we become increasingly independent and pragmatic, able to attain fulfilment without narrow definitions of success and love. Many have been let down by dreams of happily ever after, but if we are able to appreciate the things that are, and not hanker only for what could be, chances are that heaven, is already here.

www.hayestheatre.com.au

Review: The Harp In The South (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre at Walsh Bay (Sydney NSW), Aug 16 – Oct 6, 2018
Playwright: Kate Mulvany (from novels by Ruth Park)
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Joel Bishop, Luke Carroll, Tony Cogin, Jack Finsterer, Benedict Hardie, Emma Harvie, Anita Hegh, Ben O’Toole, Lucia Mastrantone, Heather Mitchell, Tara Morice, Rose Riley, Rahel Romahn, Jack Ruwald, Guy Simon, Bruce Spence, Helen Thomson, Contessa Treffone, George Zhao
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
When Margaret Kilker met Hugh Darcy in 1920, life in rural Trafalgar was idyllic but inert. The couple, both Irish-Australian, young and hopeful, soon headed to Sydney for a brighter future, setting up home in Surry Hills, where they found community, and formed the foundations of a legacy never intended or even imagined.

The Harp In The South is a six-and-a-half hour epic, in two parts, by Kate Mulvany, based on two of Ruth Park’s novels from the 1940’s and another from 1985. Composed mainly of migrant perspectives as experienced by three generations of Irish women, the play offers contemporary audiences a version of our city’s recent history that feels counter-cultural, one that is derived not from contrivances of the establishment, but from stories told by the poor and disadvantaged. All the wonderful things we associate with this city, are built upon the fortitude of those who bear injustice and genuine hardship. Instead of hearing once again about the great white forefathers who take every credit, The Harp In The South restores the voices of forgotten individuals, and places them in the mythical centre of Sydney’s eminence.

Mulvany’s adaptation is exhilarating and witty, replete with irresistible drama, and brimming with inspiration. A palpable soulfulness informs her every manoeuvre, revealing a deep love of the subject and the material, that proves to be completely and profoundly affecting. Although concerned with a cultural specificity, Mulvany’s play contains a sensibility of inclusiveness, that understands the diverse realities of those to whom this story is relevant. The Kilker-Darcy household leads the action, but their truth can only resonate within a context of multiculturalism, and the accompanying portrayals of Indigenous, Chinese, Greek and Italian characters provide not only a degree of ethnological accuracy, they also make an important statement about the way we have, for a long time, sought to share space in harmony.

Director Kip Williams’ vision is exquisite, for a production extraordinary in what it achieves, not only in aesthetic terms, but even more valuable is its promise to galvanise society, through highly persuasive, and sentimental, depictions of our common past, involving all the complexities in our endeavours to be good families, friends and neighbours. Even though the events that unfold are from a different era, every scene rings true, with a familiarity that emanates from its absolute honesty. The Harp In The South is tremendously soulful, and it speaks to all who have an intimate connection with Surry Hills and its surrounds.

Flawlessly designed, the show looks and sounds magnificent. David Fleischer’s sets, Nick Schlieper’s lights and Renée Mulder’s costumes, form an impeccable collaboration delivering theatrical grandeur, with a pervasive and melancholic nostalgia best described as beautiful. Music by The Sweats and sound design by Nate Edmondson, combine new with old, real with abstract, seamlessly cajoling us from one dimension to another, making us laugh and cry at will. The songs we choose to sing, are the truest indication of who we are, and the many melodic renditions of The Harp In The South are like spiritual disclosures, engineered to touch us in the heart and in the mind.

A large cast of actors, play a very large number of characters, each one fabulously evocative, no matter how brief their appearance. Contessa Treffone, marvellous as both Josie and Dolour, is onstage for a substantial portion of this durational challenge, persistently impressive with her spirited and delightful comedy, and triumphant with the integral vulnerability she brings to the show. Margaret and Hugh are brought to life by Anita Hegh and Jack Finsterer, both reliably poignant, but also cuttingly humorous when appropriate. Heather Mitchell too is splendid, and thoroughly amusing, as the matriarch Eny Kilker.

Unforgettably funny, are Benedict Hardie and Rahel Romahn in all their innumerable guises, although Helen Thomson is a clear favourite, unequivocally outstanding with an incomparable volume of laughs, particularly wonderful as the bawdy brothel madam Delie Stock. Lesbian nuns Theopilus and Beatrix are a thrilling pair, performed playfully yet tenderly, by Lucia Mastrantone and Tara Morice, endearing as a sisterly set, and independently formidable in an astonishingly varied range of personalities.

We can proclaim to know ourselves, but art can often surprise with new epiphanies. There is no end to how humanity can understand itself, and it is imperative that we are committed to finding ever greater truths, if we should continue to believe in better tomorrows. We may not be direct descendants of the people in The Harp In The South, but they show us so exhaustively, who we are, as Sydneysiders, as Australians. The shoulders we stand on were not always solid, but all our strength today must be attributed to that past.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Ich Nibber Dibber (Sydney Opera House)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Aug 15 – 19, 2018
Playwrights: Zoë Coombs Marr, Mish Grigor, Natalie Rose
Director: Zoë Coombs Marr, Mish Grigor, Natalie Rose
Cast: Zoë Coombs Marr, Mish Grigor, Natalie Rose
Images by Jacquie Manning

Theatre review
Three goddesses are afloat in white robes, eternal but not quite ethereal. Zoë Coombs Marr, Mish Grigor and Natalie Rose’s Ich Nibber Dibber features quick-fire conversations between old friends, natural and very candid, as though a verbatim recreation of private moments, collated over two or so decades. Confidences between close friends that are never meant for public consumption, bawdy and reckless, occupy centre stage to claim a position of dominance for the oft-neglected notion of female subjectivity. It is an exercise in rejecting the gaze, and of women asserting a perspective that is wholly about self-determined existences.

Audacious in its imagination of a post-feminist era, its accompanying politics are confident but subdued. Instead of overt investigations into meanings of gender, the play emphasises its comedy, and through that brazen attitude of subversive recalcitrance, Ich Nibber Dibber encourages us to laugh on our own terms, and by inference, to laugh at patriarchy. The show is thoroughly amusing, with its creators proving to be highly persuasive presences, as they jubilantly perform their defiance.

The women are unequivocally real, but they are also otherworldly, with a circularity to their experience of time that offers a glimpse into a future universe beckoning us to catch up. Michael Hankin’s set and costumes, along with Fausto Brusamolino’s lights, orchestrate this magical encounter between profane and divine, presenting imagery that reminds us of the transcendence we are all capable of. Music and sound by James Brown facilitate our connection with the storytellers, and then disturb our peace to keep us thinking.

It is believed that male desire in all its forms, have determined how we conceive of ourselves, but what had seemed inescapable, can now be put through a process of reconditioning. To extricate our own desires from those of the other, is likely an inexhaustible task, and because a woman’s work of resistance is never done, it is that ongoing project of continual redefinition and ever new formations of identities that can lead us to greater autonomy.

www.postpresentspost.com | www.sydneyoperahouse.com

Review: Nell Gwynn (New Theatre)


Venue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Aug 8 – Sep 8, 2018
Playwright: Jessica Swale
Director: Deborah Jones
Cast: Lloyd Allison-Young, Kate Bookallil, Debra Bryan, Steve Corner, Aimee Crighton, Susan Jordan, Simon Lee, Naomi Livingstone, Steven Ljubovic, Peter Mountford, Genevieve Muratore, Rupert Reid, Eleanor Ryan, Shan-Ree Tan, Adam Van den bok, Bishanyia Vincent
Images by Chris Lundie

Theatre review
Jessica Swale’s Nell Gwynn tells the rags to riches story of its eponymous 17th century English actress, charting her rise from common prostitute to becoming one of the first women to ever take to the professional stage, and eventually finding her way into the courts as King Charles II’s most favoured mistress. It was a short but eventful life, that Swale takes great care to frame as a modern feminist parable, featuring a young woman who uses beauty and brains, to battle against all odds, and make it all the way to the glass ceiling. Fascinating biographical information is transformed into effective drama, placed alongside contemporary observations and commentary about womanhood.

Actor Bishanyia Vincent is marvellous in the title role, spirited and intelligent, for an interpretation that is as inspiring as it is entertaining. There is a lightness to the character that endears, but Vincent takes every opportunity to imbue complexity and depth, offering insights that are emotional, or sometimes political, making Nell Gwynn a tale that is unmistakably relevant to our times. Equally memorable is Lloyd Allison-Young as the king, wonderfully flamboyant in his comical expressions that represent perfectly, our perspectives of the aristocratic classes. Both are deeply charming personalities, who insist on keeping us delighted at every turn. It is a strong cast overall, with each performer proving themselves accomplished and inventive in their individual parts.

Musical aspects of the show are whimsical and amusing; Laura Heuston as musical director and Clare Heuston as music consultant, bring a gratifying effervescence to their interludes. Virginia Ferris delivers lively but simple work as choreographer, in clever accompaniment to direction by Deborah Jones that focuses earnestly, on the craft of acting. Visual elements are raw, slightly too basic, or perhaps too straightforward, in configuration and imagination.

As a woman of the lowest class, Gwynn was able to rise through the ranks, with a serendipitous combination of talent and luck, to reach heights that had allowed her a taste of greener pastures. She was never liberated of course, from that dependence on men and their libido, and ultimately succumbed to syphilis, but there is no denying that she was able to ensure wealth and status for all her subsequent generations. Womanly wiles are still a currency today, but for most of us, how we transact is now chiefly a matter of our own discretion.

www.newtheatre.org.au

Review: Torch Song Trilogy (Darlinghurst Theatre Company)

Venue: Eternity Playhouse (Darlinghurst NSW), Aug 1 – 26, 2018
Playwright: Harvey Fierstein
Director: Stephen Colyer
Cast: Hilary Cole, Simon Corfield, Imraan Daniels, Tim Draxl, Stephen Madsen, Kate Raison, Phil Scott
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
It is the perfect time to revisit Harvey Fierstein’s Torch Song Trilogy. The play premiered in New York 1982, right before the AIDS crisis crippled the LGBT community. Fierstein’s vision was full of hope, daring to see queer people break into the mainstream, with portrayals of gay men in serious monogamous relationships, thriving in family units that incorporate legally adopted children.

Almost immediately after the completion of this work, the LGBT movement experienced a setback of at least thirty years, finding itself in a new fight, in many ways even harder than before, with the world laying the blame of AIDS entirely on us. What had been a burgeoning era of equality post-Stonewall was all but decimated. Today’s revival is an appropriate resumption of progress; much of the West has now succumbed to the demand for marriage equality, and that discussion about marginalised identities gaining parity not only of rights, but also respect, can now once again be sincerely salient.

Actor Simon Corfield plays Arnold, a gay Jewish New Yorker, whose resilience forms the centrepiece of this saga. Corfield’s performance is often very moving; his depictions of suffering are absolutely enthralling, ensuring that the show’s politics remain foregrounded. Comedy aspects, however, are less consistently rendered. Kate Raison offers a redemptive energy boost, with her potent entrance in the third act as Arnold’s mother, restoring lustre to the play’s humour. Incidental songs are magnificently presented by Hilary Cole and Tim Draxl, accompanied by Phil Scott’s exquisite piano playing. Both singers use music to their magical advantage and leave remarkable impressions, enhanced by strong acting in their roles as Laurel and Ed.

The production can at times be insufficiently ebullient, but an authentic soulful quality permeates, and sustains, all the action. It is a visually sumptuous staging, boldly lit by Benjamin Brockman, whose extravagant approach for Torch Song Trilogy imbues it with a captivating sense of theatricality. There is a beautiful melancholy to director Stephen Colyer’s style that adds a richness to the play’s concerns; Arnold never dwells on his pain, but Colyer insists that we see all of it.

Back in the day, the idea that gay men could start their own normative family lives, was a completely subversive notion. Today, it can still be a surprising thought, although some of us are more taken aback, by the fact that any queer person would choose an existence that seems so ordinary. For LGBT people in places with adequate legal protection, our choices are broader than ever before. Some want to emulate their parents, others wish to break new ground, and most would probably find their peace somewhere in between the extremes. The whole point of this long battle, is so that people can become whomever they desire. Love thy neighbour as you love thyself, no matter how different they appear to be.

www.darlinghursttheatre.com