Review: The Ritz (New Theatre)

newtheatreVenue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Feb 16 – Mar 5, 2016
Playwright: Terrence McNally
Director: David Marshall-Martin
Cast: Les Asmussen, Meagan Caratti, Samuel Christopher, Jarryd Clancy, Ricci Costa, John Edwards, John Farndale, Lisa Franey, Ivan Hui, William Koutsoukis, Adam Kovarik, Rosane McNamara, Marty O’Neill, David Ross, James Smithers, Barton Williams
Photography © Bob Seary

Theatre review
It may be argued that there was only a small window of time in LGBT history, when stories were being published and told in theatres about vibrant queer experiences. The emergence of the gay rights movement alongside the sexual revolution of late 1960’s opened the doors to artistic expression that began to take queer lives out of the closet, but before much momentum was able to be achieved, the AIDS epidemic of the early 1980’s signalled the return of oppressive powers, and although LGBT stories continued to be produced, they were turned much darker to reflect the sombre times of death and community destruction.

Terrence McNally’s The Ritz first appeared on Broadway in 1975, and although its protagonist Proclo is heterosexual, the action takes place in a gay bathhouse in Manhattan, with a host of vivacious gay men providing the core structure to its narrative, along with an endless stream of campy punchlines. Their proud and exuberant sexuality is its central appeal, in fact Proclo’s story is almost ancillary, existing only as an excuse for the rambunctious humour to unfold. The infamy of pre-AIDS bathhouse culture finds itself represented here in all its shame-free glory, in the form of a classic American farce (admittedly not to everyone’s tastes), complete with accents, stereotypes and show tunes.

Director David Marshall-Martin brings to the production a potent nostalgia that many will appreciate, and an energetic madcap style of comedy perfect for the script. The old-fashioned quality of the show takes some getting used to, but it does get increasingly charming through the course of the evening, aided by the bawdiness of the writing that Marshall-Martin is able to present with a surprising edginess, despite its use-by date.

Leading man Les Asmussen is an endearing and effervescent presence, with an ability to communicate and connect with his audience effortlessly. The actor’s strong instincts ensures that on-stage chemistry is consistently buoyant, and his generous nature as a performer keeps us engrossed. Similarly engaging is Samuel Christopher in the role of Chris, an extremely flamboyant character who has a joke ready for every situation. Christopher’s comedic skills are a highlight of the show, leaving a lasting impression with bold choices and immaculate timing. Also very funny is Meagan Caratti, who embraces the boisterous tone of the show to deliver some of its biggest laughs. Her passionate commitment is paralleled by an emotional warmth that allows her character Googie to become one of the more believable personalities in this outlandish presentation.

The style of The Ritz might not be innovative, but the portrayal of unbridled joy by its community of gay men is refreshing. We might be in a new century, but we remain burdened by the darkest days of AIDS and its indelible negative impact on sexual freedoms. The rampant sex and promiscuity of The Ritz was a result of emancipation that was meant to be celebratory. Its intention was to welcome a new era of equality and acceptance, but we now look at those behaviour as an archaic oddity. It is a vision of pride that we have lost, replaced by something less assertive, maybe even slightly ordinary.

www.newtheatre.org.au

Review: The Punter’s Siren (Blood Moon Theatre)

blancmangeVenue: Blood Moon Theatre (Potts Point NSW), Feb 17 – Mar 4, 2016
Playwright: Gina Schien
Director: Stephen Carnell
Cast: Jacqui Robson, Laura Viskovich
Image by Phyllis Wong

Theatre review
Originally conceived as a one-woman play, Gina Schien’s The Punter’s Siren is presented here with an additional actor giving life to the monologue’s secondary character. Instead of letting the protagonist evoke our imagination, the siren is literally materialised on stage by Laura Viskovich, who although says little, is a formidable presence. This creative touch by director Stephen Carnell represents a meaningful gesture that gives power to the play’s sexuality, as though coming out of the closet, its homosexuality lies not only in words, it is irrefutably in existence.

Jacqui Robson’s 50 minutes on stage as Helen, the punter, is scintillating. There are moments where our attention struggles to find focus with an ancillary actor by her side, but her energetic precision never fails to keep us on track with her narrative, engrossed and atingle with excitement. Robson delivers moment after moment of splendid comedy, ranging from subtle impulses that take us by surprise, to loud displays of humorous passion. Her tenacity is relentless, and although the ride she takes us on is ultimately a predictable one, it is full of amusement and exhilarating joy.

The sole driving force of Helen’s story is lust. In Schien’s play, a woman’s libido takes centre stage and its temperament is an aggressive one. Undisguised, unadorned and unashamed, it is her wild desire that gives propulsion to every action in The Punter’s Siren, forcing us to confront the anomaly of its honesty, and we are left wondering what it is about our culture that insists on keeping the universal and everyday truth about strong feminine sexuality, veiled and concealed. Immodesty is star of the show and we are thrilled.

www.facebook.com/bloodmoontheatre

Review: The Girlie Show (Tunks Productions / The Old 505 Theatre)

tunksVenue: The Old 505 Theatre (Newtown NSW), Feb 18 – 22, 2014
Playwright: Wayne Tunks
Director: Wayne Tunks
Cast: Campbell Briggs, Thomas G Burt, Adam Carr, Mat Glessing, Prudence Holloway, Chantel Leseberg, Jack Marsden, Jacinta Moses, Tasha O’Brien, Billie Scott, Wayne Tunks
Image by Isobel Markus-Dunworth

Theatre review
The play takes place in the early 90’s, following the coming-of-age stories of five young Sydneysiders. It all begins when they meet at the front of a queue for tickets to a Madonna concert, and united by their common passion for the pop star, the group becomes fast friends. We then trace each individual’s growth in the few months leading up to the event, and witness them overcoming challenges, supported by the new-found friendships, and the strength of character inspired by their fearless leader (the “creamy smooth pop icon goddess”, Madonna). This sounds tongue-in-cheek, but Wayne Tunks’ The Girlie Show is an earnest tribute with a somewhat middle-of-the-road approach; not cool enough, but not cheesey enough either. Its familiar narratives feel authentic, and although put together with little sophistication, the production’s honest sentimentality does provide moments of poignancy.

The show is kept buoyant by strong performances from the likes of Billie Scott, energetic but with a dorky style of humour that works well within its context of zealous fandom. Along with effective comic timing, Scott’s ability to portray genuine emotionality brings a charming pathos to some of the more melodramatic scenes. Also memorable is Jacinta Moses in a range of maternal roles, simultaneously sensitive and strong, Moses is powerful in her scenes, showcasing excellent conviction and versatility.

Most of the play is about the gay and lesbian coming out experience, and harks back to a time when stories of this nature were prevalent and indeed, all the rage. The Girlie Show takes on that tradition, and even though it does not extend beyond the predictable scope of the genre, there is little doubt that there remains a need for these narratives to be made. In looking back at our youth, we can find the purity that is perhaps lost from today, and it is that purity that must be recalled in order that we may live in compassion, if we allow it to thaw out what was scared and cold.

www.tunks.com.au

Review: Arcadia (Sydney Theatre Company)

stcVenue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Feb 8 – Apr 2, 2016
Playwright: Tom Stoppard
Director: Richard Cottrell
Cast: Blazey Best, Ryan Corr, Honey Debelle, Andrea Demetriades, Jonathan Elsom, Georgia Flood, Julian Garner, Glenn Hazeldine, Josh McConville, Will McDonald, Michael Sheasby, Justin Smith
Image by Heidrun Löhr

Theatre review
Strong societies encourage each of their individuals to reach the greatest of their potential. Geniuses do not exist in vacuums; even though the uniqueness of their abilities easily becomes a source of isolation or detachment, they are part of communities that need to recognise the exceptional advantages they bring to the progress of our civilisations. In theatre, a conundrum exists with writers like Tom Stoppard. To produce a play such as his Arcadia, a team of highly accomplished talents must be employed in order that the density of his writing gets the best chance of finding elucidation, but that would necessitate considerable box office takings (at a time when government funding for the arts continues to plummet). Bringing Arcadia to the masses is a strange proposition. We are used to mindless sentimental tosh drawing in the crowds, but getting throngs into the Sydney Opera House for a night of intense intellectual exchange is, to put it mildly, ambitious.

Many will appreciate director Richard Cottrell’s sophisticated and vibrant take on the text, but there will be no shortage of viewers finding themselves entirely befuddled for its three-hour duration. The play is about mathematics, chaos theory, the second law of thermodynamics and English landscape gardens in the early 19th century, quite a different set of interests from what we encounter in Australia’s everyday media. Perhaps this is an indication that the public is actually capable of ingesting more than sporting scandals and partisan politics, but more realistically, this is a case of either seriously overestimating our cultural climate, or a very daring effort at lifting our game.

Art must challenge, but when it does, it often alienates. Cottrell’s show is energetic and seductive. Its jaunty rhythm and charismatic personalities are engaging but whether they make Stoppard’s subject matter enticing, is debatable. We are impressed by the passion depicted on stage. Some audiences might be able to get involved with the idiosyncratic obsessions of Arcadia‘s characters, but more are likely to be swept along by the cast’s incontrovertible thespian devotion.

Key roles are marvellously performed with an infectious glee that for the most part, keep us within the action of the play. Andrea Demetriades is sensational as Hannah Jarvis, completely convincing and natural in her approach, and irresistibly compelling. What she presents is a model for the kind of acting that forbids the detection of any divergence between actor and character. Her conflation of the two seems effortless, yet there is no denying the theatricality that allows her to communicate intentions and emotions with brilliant clarity. Similarly delightful is Josh McConville as Bernard Nightingale, deliciously pompous and shrewdly sardonic, playing the role as an effective archetype but with a solid authenticity to keep us convinced and endeared.

Stoppard and his characters strive for a mastery of their domains. They locate and identify pieces to puzzles that will form a finished and satisfying picture to intellectual pursuits that inevitably become more complex as processes develop. Watching Arcadia asks of us that same commitment of attention and effort. It is not easy-going for the vast majority, but we can certainly jump back into the action whenever we find ourselves in moments of confusion, to continue on that chase for meaning. As a contender in the popularity contest that is the live theatre industry, this show is unlikely to be a crowd favourite, but as inhabitants of this city, we must hold deep gratitude that programming of this calibre exists, and is available to more than the privileged few.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Year Of The Family (Tooth And Sinew Theatre)

toothsinewVenue: Kings Cross Theatre Kings Cross NSW), Feb 10 – 20, 2016
Playwright: Anthony Neilson
Director: Richard Hilliar
Cast: Peter-William Jamieson, Brendan Miles, Brooke Ryan, Nicole Wineberg, David Woodland

Theatre review
Human sexuality is a fascinating subject. Each individual’s bedroom inclinations vary as widely as the way we eat our food. No two appetites are exactly the same, yet we think of sex as a universal experience, and its taboo nature means that we rarely discuss its nitty-gritty at depth, choosing instead to imagine simple paradigms that would apply to every person. In Anthony Neilson’s Year Of The Family, sex is anything but normative. Its characters indulge in secret intimacies, and as we observe the functioning of each libido, connections are made with the unfolding dysfunctions of their family lives. Neilson appropriates the theatrical quality of that relationship between family and sex for a text that is tragic, comedic, and many shades in between, to reveal the repercussions that can occur as a result of familial breakdowns. His writing is playful and dynamic, but also surprisingly delicate. It broaches difficult subjects, but refuses to be exploitative or sensationalist.

Richard Hilliar’s powerful direction brings intensity to a staging that seeks to simultaneously entertain and provoke. There is an adventurous streak reflected in the clever use of space, especially in scene transitions (with the help of Liam O’Keefe’s very effective lighting design), along with a relentless and captivating energy to his creation that makes for compelling viewing. Hilliar’s sensitivity to dramatic tension is the production’s greatest strength, and the results are very satisfying indeed.

The cast is uniformly lively and focussed, but some roles are interpreted with more resonance than others. Brendan Miles provides intrigue and an appropriate restraint to the mysterious Henry. It is an understated, and literally quiet, performance that offers a counterpoint to the other larger than life parts, but Miles leaves a strong impression with the presence and precision he brings to the stage. As the manic Felicity, Nicole Wineberg is responsible for the more euphoric portions of the show. The actor presents a wildness that alternates between comical and terrifying, and provides the production with its delightful yet volatile spirit, but the role could benefit from greater emotional complexity.

The people in the play are troubled. They are trapped in heartache, unable to be released from the past. They form their own re-enactments of broken histories in cathartic attempts to move forward, but are as yet unsuccessful. Nevertheless they continue to strive, even if wallowing is part of the process. It is fact that we do not choose our families, but debatable whether we can be free of them. There is little happiness in Year Of The Family, but it is us who must decide where and how the matter of choice figures in their respective narratives, and then in our own lives, reflect on the ways we are entrapped, voluntarily or otherwise.

www.toothandsinew.com

Review: Life Without Me (Illuminate Educate)

illuminateeducateVenue: Seymour Centre (Chippendale NSW), Feb 9 – 16, 2016
Playwright: Daniel Keene
Director: Cathy Hunt
Cast: Martin Broome, Annie Byron, Laurence Coy, Drew Fairley, Brendan Donoghue, Julie Hudspeth, Anne Wilson
Image by Stephen Reinhardt

Theatre review
The action takes place in a hotel, mostly in its lobby. The transient nature of this setting prompts us to look at the way we move through life; how we travel in relation to time, the people we encounter, and the meaning of ephemerality itself in personal existences that often deceive us with a feeling of permanence. Daniel Keene’s script has a surreal edge that helps skew our perspective, providing an alternative to the linearity that informs many of our understanding of the universe. The play has more than a few quirky facets, but its scenes are firmly attached to everyday concerns in a way that allow us to relate with all its characters no matter how colourful each scenario becomes.

Direction by Cathy Hunt achieves good clarity with plot trajectories and her active use of space helps keep our senses engaged, but the show is surprisingly muted. Keene’s text provides potential for a more adventurous approach, yet the production often seems to lack a greater sense of extravagance that would befit its very imaginative dialogue. Its actors tend to be restrained and polite, even though the concepts introduced veer towards something much wilder. Memorable personalities include Mrs Spence, performed by the very animated Annie Byron whose precision is a joy to watch. Her passionate demeanour and confident comic timing brings a valuable liveliness to a stage that is often too staid in tone. Also delightful is Laurence Coy as Roy who injects a convincing spontaneity to proceedings, along with a sensitive balance of consternation and optimism that we identify with.

Life Without Me is about living in purgatory, suspended in a state of limbo excluded from where the real action is. We wish for the characters to discover that the point of life is to live, to participate and to commit. We fear for their aimlessness and their indecisiveness, and we observe their passivity through the passage of time as if waiting for nothing but the arrival of certain death. At the hotel, people are always going somewhere, but they forget that they are already here.

www.illuminateeducate.com.au

Review: The Pride (Darlinghurst Theatre Company)

darloVenue: Eternity Playhouse (Darlinghurst NSW), Feb 5 – Mar 6, 2016
Playwright: Alexi Kaye Campbell
Director: Shane Bosher
Cast: Geraldine Hakewill, Kyle Kazmarzik, Simon London, Matt Minto
Image by Helen White

Theatre review
Like all good narratives that move toward a satisfying conclusion, we hope for political movements of each era to come with happy endings. Each of the causes that people fight for have a definite objective, but their reverberations are often felt far beyond those destinations, and happily ever after is never as simple a proposition as we might imagine. The Pride is about gay liberation, but its concerns extend beyond the legal rights that LGBT communities have, and continue to, achieve. It looks at the reparations that have not been made, even though our law books are altered for better standards of equality and humanity. Alexi Kaye Campbell’s script is about the scars that gay men continue to bear, at a time when the fight, in Britain at least, is meant to be over.

Campbell’s play is a very deep one. Its explorations of intimate gay histories is imbued with the most thorough cognizance of the human condition. We look not only at feelings, but also at the way people’s behaviours are shaped, when subject to generations of injustice and cruelty. Its insights are valuable, and its message important, but the script is lengthy, with scenes that struggle to sustain dramatic tension as they take time to get to their point, although every line of dialogue is undoubtedly beautifully crafted. Director Shane Bosher’s style is sophisticated and honest. He does not overcome the writing’s structural issues, but what he brings is marvellous elucidation to a rare discussion of contemporary gay life, and the challenges faced by a community that is often tricked into thinking that the worst is over.

The production is performed with great passion by its cast of four. The level of commitment in their work is truly splendid, even if their individual abilities may vary. Simon London is magnificent as Phillip. His portrayal of vulnerability is full of poignancy and vividly resonant, even as the character spends a lifetime manufacturing false fronts and deceptions. London inhabits all the contradictory qualities of his tragic role, along with the extreme emotionality of his thinly-veiled true nature, to leave a remarkable and lasting impression. Leading man Matt Minto has an appealing authenticity that makes Oliver’s stories palpable, but the actor has a tendency to be too quiet, almost film-like in his approach, requiring the audience to work harder to connect (in the absence of cameras zooming in for close ups). Geraldine Hakewill too, can afford to introduce greater theatricality to her roles, but even though slightly straightforward, her interpretations are consistently thoughtful and strikingly empathetic. Scene-stealer Kyle Kazmarzik pops up in different guises playing minor roles, but is completely delightful in every moment. His comedy is flawless, and transformations between personalities astounding. Kazmarzik takes on the easier parts of the script, but exceeds all expectations and requirements to deliver some of the most memorably engaging sequences in the production.

Like a pride of lions, our LGBT communities have weathered the worst that society is capable of, and have come out fierce, resilient and strong. We have also inherited a merciless savagery that can rear its head at unsuspecting times, even or perhaps especially, against ourselves. When the war is over, our impulse is to celebrate, but someone has to pick up the pieces left behind by the enduring harm inflicted in years past, or a beast of destruction will manifest. In The Pride, things end on an optimistic note, and even though its suddenly illusory quality of its closing scene does not deceive, its hopefulness is welcome, and necessary.

www.darlinghursttheatre.com

Review: All Good Things (ATYP)

atypVenue: ATYP (Walsh Bay NSW), Feb 3 – 20, 2016
Playwrights: Michael J Cornford, Alberto Di Troia, Piri Eddy, Georgia Goode, Kirby Medway, Callum McLean, Gemma Neall, Rachel O’Regan, Morgan St. Clair, Ciella William
Director: Iain Sinclair
Cast: Simone Cheuanghane, Simon Croker, Martin Hoggart, Poppy Lynch, Moreblessing Maturure, Sarah Meacham, Alex Packard, Jonas Thompson, May Tran, Darius Williams
Image by Tracey Schramm

Theatre review (of a preview performance)
Ten short monologues are interwoven on an intimate stage, with ten young actors presenting a new generation’s perspective of where we are and where we are approaching. Through stories about adolescence, identity, sexuality and desire, we observe in All Good Things, the world’s evolution and we wonder about the things that change and those that remain the same. We conceive of the future as a time that will bear differences, yet human nature seems to be fundamentally immovable. The linearity of time misleads us into thinking that we leave everything behind, yet the truth seems to be that although we are ever-changing, we will never be anything other than human.

There is wonderful and starkly inspired writing to be found in this collection of plays. Each one individualistic, offering a wild range of styles and tones, from simple narratives that pack a punch, to poetic abstractions that affect with beguiling efficacy. Iain Sinclair’s direction provides an almost miraculous cohesion that allows us to absorb the fragments as a whole, manipulating our senses and emotions as though following a conventional theatrical plot. The format he creates attempts to bring an evenness to the disparate source material, but the more anecdotal pieces leave a greater impression. Callum Mclean’s Changing Room, Gemma Neall’s Jailbait and Morgan St. Clair’s Possession in particular, involving gender and strong sexuality, are captivating tales told intelligently.

The show features a talented and vibrant cast of youngsters from diverse ethnic backgrounds; a rainbow of skin and hair colours but all sharing a singular Australian-accented voice. Darius Williams is charming, confident and effortlessly engaging in the role of David in Piri Eddy’s Teeth. The wide range of emotion he portrays so convincingly, and his infectious humour make his performance a highlight of the production. In Rachel O’Regan’s Red Bull, May Tran depicts a girl cracking under the pressure of an examination, with marvellous precision and clarity. Poppy Lynch in Bright by Ciella William is daring, energetic and charismatic, and Jonas Thompson in Kirby Medway’s The Fuzz is a keen comedian with beautifully timed punchlines that any audience would find irresistible.

Through the wealth of talent on show here, we catch a glimpse of the things that really matter to our young artists. Not every work is deep or serious, but even when encountering moments of frivolity, we see honesty and commitment to their craft. The value of innocence has always been important in art, and on this occasion, we connect with that special quality that will always be rare in the oft too clever art form of theatre. Together with an excellent and thoughtful team of designers (Michael Toisuta’s sound design is stunning), Iain Sinclair has introduced a great deal of sophistication to the production, but the youthful effervescence of every artist is never subdued, and it is their idealism and their hopes that stay with us the strongest.

www.atyp.com.au

Review: Jack Of Hearts (Ensemble Theatre)

ensembleVenue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Jan 29 – Apr 2, 2016
Playwright: David Williamson
Director: David Williamson
Cast: Paige Gardiner, Christa Nicola, Peter Mochrie, Brooke Satchwell, Craig Reucassel, Isabella Tannock, Chris Taylor
Image by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
It is probably a common fantasy to have multiple lovers vying for one’s attention, so it is understandable that David Williamson would use the idea to spark his new play Jack Of Hearts. The quirk is that lead character Jack is a thoroughly ordinary man, with no substantial talents, wealth or looks to speak of. He is not a particularly kind or caring man, and as a middle-aged divorcee, it is quite a mystery that he thinks that three very attractive women would be desperate for his affections. Except, the play is not a mystery at all, not in the conventional sense at least. It is a straightforward and very old-fashioned comedy about Jack’s ridiculous delusions. Often unintentionally laughable, and frequently offensive to audiences with even the slightest of feminist sensibilities, this is certainly not a show for everyone.

Nevertheless, it is without question that there are those who will enjoy the confident and energetic rhythm of the production’s humour. Its thorough and determined need to entertain will be pleasing to some, especially those who are able to leave political correctness and intellect outside of the auditorium. Theatre should have no rules. It can be frivolous, shallow and rude if it chooses to be, and in fact, millions have been made from entertainment of this description. Jack Of Hearts is the kind of work that will have many detractors, but also many fans. It can be described in many words, but boring is not one of them.

The cast of comedians is well-rehearsed and spirited. Characters do not make much psychological sense, but the actors are able to convey a good level of authenticity in individual scenes to keep us engaged. Jack is played by Chris Taylor, whose energy sustains the surprisingly lengthy show. His charisma shines through in sections in which he performs stand-up comedy (to adversaries who attend on multiple nights, voluntarily subjecting themselves to humiliation for no good reason). It is a very animated performance by Taylor, and although a healthy dose of naturalism would help us identify better with his story, there is a remarkable clarity achieved in his quite nonsensical circumstances. Craig Reucassel is similarly vivid in his portrayal of Stu, the stereotypical Sydney cad who also finds himself in the middle of two women with mystifyingly low levels of self-esteem. Reucassel is naturally charming, with a quality of mischief that makes Stu as engrossing as he is intolerable. Brooke Satchwell does her best with the role of Denys, almost disregarding the complete illogic of all the character’s decisions, to deliver a performance that is consistently funny and very amusing. The actor’s irresistible flair is one of the show’s few highlights.

There are no likeable personalities in the play. These Australians are at worst repugnant, and at best, banal. Theatre is often a reflection of real life, but on this occasion, it is fortunate that nothing seems believable, and we can allow ourselves to think of the people in Jack Of Hearts as entirely fictitious and thus form a disassociation. It however, cannot be overlooked that women continue to be accessories in many of our stories about men, even very unremarkable men. The women here exist only in relation to their husbands and lovers, but incredulous as it might seen to some, this is not how we are in reality, and the reflections offered here are profoundly stupid.

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: The Poor Kitchen (Subtlenuance / The Old 505 Theatre)

subtlenuanceVenue: Old 505 Theatre @ 5 Eliza St (Newtown NSW), Feb 2 – 6, 2016
Playwright: Daniela Giorgi
Director: Paul Gilchrist
Cast: Mark Langham, Samantha Meisner, Katrina Rautenberg, Randa Sayed, Benjamin Winckle

Theatre review (of a preview performance)
Elle inherits a farm in Italy, so she flies there with plans to sell up and return with cash for a piece of the Sydney property market. To our Australian sensibilities, the proposition is straightforward, but what Elle experiences is a set of unforeseen and complicated circumstances involving a foreign culture, to which she is intrinsically entwined, by blood and history. Modern life for most of us holds a strange and contradictory duality. We identify with the place and culture that we immediately belong, but are aware also of ties to other faraway places. We think of ourselves as one thing, but are really much more internationally connected than we care to admit. Geographical boundaries are real, but also arbitrary. This is an inconvenient and problematic truth that challenges our inevitably parochial ways of living, one that confronts how we think about migration, ecology and politics, all topics that The Poor Kitchen is keen to tackle. It shatters the “us and them” oppositions set up to justify our capitalism, so we keep it under wraps, choosing to subscribe instead to nationalistic notions of being that our small minds find manageable.

Daniela Giorgi’s script is both thoughtful and insightful. Its narrative can be structured more engagingly, but its attempts at bringing big ideas into a realm of domesticity, and hence intelligibility, are successful. There are colourful characters that keep us entertained, and even though performances are of a good standard, chemistry between actors is sometimes lacking, causing the show to lose tension at various points. Randa Sayed is thoroughly charming as Anna, with an energy and dynamism that light up the stage each time she makes an appearance. In the role of Carlo is Benjamin Winckle, who impresses with a consistent and precise approach in his creation of what is perhaps the most convincing character in the production. Leading lady Katrina Rautenberg is strong when emotions gets intense, but is less effective in portraying the more light-hearted parts of Elle. We take some time to warm up to her, so the events surrounding our protagonist can feel slightly distanced in earlier scenes.

The production’s minimal design is appropriate for the rustic quality it depicts, but sections that take us through dramatic shifts in time require greater atmospheric support from the team of creatives. Paul Gilchrist’s direction makes excellent use of space, and he often finds the best to showcase in each performer, allowing individuals to find their own captivating moments and to deliver a certain level of depth from each personality. The story of The Poor Kitchen is an interesting one, but in its resistance of conventional melodrama, our emotions are kept in check. It is true that family matters can easily cause aggravation, and soap operas all over the world exploit that indulgence, but level-headedness is probably the only means to rid us of those heartaches, so that we may begin to see the bigger picture.

www.subtlenuance.comwww.venue505.com/theatre