Review: Motherlode (The Hub Studio / Rue De La Rocket)

Venue: Actors Centre Australia (Leichhardt NSW), May 4 – 13, 2017
Director: Dean Carey
Cast: Jo Briant, Mel Dodge, Karli Evans, Lana Kershaw, Monette Lee, Jan Oxenbould, Natalie Rees

Theatre review
The journey begins from an unremarkable place. Seven women of Caucasian appearance sit in a row, talking about their children. The play is verbatim, with a script collated from interviews about the topic of motherhood, a life experience that many share, but little of which remains surprising. When humans bond, we can only embark with conversations that are pedestrian in nature, and then destiny decides if things can get deeper.

Halfway through Motherlode, the discussions become powerful, disarmingly so. The women begin to reveal the darkest of their lives, in order to get to the crux of how they manage their relationships with children. We can only love the way we had been shown, so much of the talk is about these women’s own parents, and one of these stories in particular, is nothing short of harrowing.

Actor Karli Evans’s retelling of a character’s shocking childhood encounters involving unimaginable abuse, is by far the most poignant of the vignettes that make up the play. Evans delivers the monologue with a sense of psychological accuracy, along with thorough emotional authenticity, causing us to not only witness the pain hidden behind some of our everyday facades, but also to understand the depth of meaning that having children could mean.

Similarly memorable is Monette Lee in the role of a bubbly, spirited immigrant of Russian origin, who offers balance to narratives that tend to depict Australia as being singularly bourgeois. Lana Kershaw’s portrayal of a lesbian-identifying sex worker and PhD candidate, who had chosen to be a single parent, adds immeasurable texture to an otherwise narrow image of motherhood. Both Lee and Kershaw use the outsider qualities of their parts to excellent effect, equally impressive with the exuberance they each bring to the stage.

The production concludes with a strong message of solidarity, but we think of the other mothers who are not represented on this stage. To understand our families, is to understand our cultures. It is not entirely clear if women of colour are among Motherlode‘s interviewees, but the increasingly diverse face of Australia requires that we broaden our conceptions about values and traditions. In anthropological investigations of motherhood, it is important to understand that we come from a range of backgrounds as varied as our skin colour. As we discover what it is to be an Australian mother, it is crucial to explore how our Indigenous women relate to the subject. If we are unable to cherish the past of this land, and if we continue to ignore the changing complexion of our evolution, we will never be able to completely know who we are.

www.thehubstudio.com.au | www.ruedelarocket.com

Response from show producer:
Thank you for seeing the show. And thank you for your comment about the casting – this is such an important issue and one we would like to briefly comment on. The production had culturally diverse collaborators on the project during its development process, but unfortunately due to last minute scheduling conflicts to do with family and work opportunities, a couple of cast members could unfortunately not proceed with the show. As we were unable to recast appropriately to tell the stories authentically, we decided to focus on this phase as a development stage of the project with a limited cast. We are really excited for the next phase where we will be actively increasing the culturally diverse stories told and broadening the conversation around motherhood.

Review: The Chapel Perilous (New Theatre)

Venue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Apr 25 – May 27, 2017
Playwright: Dorothy Hewett
Director: Carissa Licciardello
Cast: Courtney Bell, Alison Chambers, Julia Christensen, Meg Clarke, Jasper Garner-Gore, Brett Heath, Madelaine Osborn, Tom Matthews, James Wright
Image © Bob Seary

Theatre review
Defiant by nature, Sally faces a real challenge, having to live in the conservative times of 1930s Australia. In Dorothy Hewett’s The Chapel Perilous, we observe a young woman trying to be her own person, not hurting a soul in the process, but who constantly suffers injustice and oppression from a society that demands her gendered subjugation. Sally is a symbol of feminism, although she seems to be unfamiliar with the concept herself, unable to comprehend the futility of her insatiable need to make herself an object of desire to men who offer her little. She is not a hero, but she is like many of us, when we find ourselves motivated by pure desire, unafraid to want.

It is a dynamic production that Carissa Licciardello directs, with adventurous and vivid interpretations of scenes coinciding effectively with clever use of space. It is noteworthy that Kyle Jonsson’s set and Martin Kinnane’s lights are beautifully rendered, for a show that looks remarkably polished. There are moments however, where the politics of the piece becomes muddy, probably due to a conflict in ideologies between personnel and text, and the delivery of meanings end up less poignant than imagined.

Julia Christensen is a very exuberant Sally. The actor is extremely animated with her portrayal of the central role, bringing to the stage a sense of boundless energy, but that continuous vigour can turn alienating. Like the character she plays, Christensen has a hard time endearing herself to everyone in her presence. The charming duo of Alison Chambers and Brett Heath play figures of authority, with excellent nuance and flair. Both give commanding performances in what are admittedly less complex parts, leaving strong impressions in spite of that simplicity.

Sally has no compatriots in her struggle, so the chances of her emerging victorious are close to none. All of society objects to her behaviour, and when a person realises that she is one against the world, hope can only give way to hopelessness. The sadness in The Chapel Perilous however, belongs to the past. What we have today are radically improved circumstances. Feminists now join in a movement that gains momentum everyday, and although we feel the pain of our wronged protagonist (for we have experienced similar transgressions), we know that progress is taking place. Those whose resistance had counted little, are to be mourned, and those who continue to blaze our trails, must be celebrated.

www.newtheatre.org.au

Review: Perhaps, Perhaps… Quizás (The Old 505 Theatre)

Venue: Old 505 Theatre (Newtown NSW), May 2 – 13, 2017
Playwright: Gabriela Munoz
Director: Gabriela Munoz
Cast: Gabriela Munoz
Image by Ricardo Castillo Cuevas

Theatre review
It is so sad when a woman is unable to find a man to marry her. When a man stays single however, the situation is not nearly as dire. In Perhaps, Perhaps… Quizás, Greta spends all her time lamenting her spinsterhood, and goes about creating fantasy weddings to escape her misery. It is a woeful context for a show, but when coming face to face with a sad clown, we discover the unique discipline that conflates depression with comedy, and makes everything work.

In art, we have to be careful about the messages we send, but we must also be authentic with how lived experience is represented. Gabriela Munoz’s work may be highly stylised, but the accuracy at which she presents her character’s feelings, persuades us to connect with the unquestionably real human emotion that is being recreated. For a moment, we put judgement aside and share in her melancholy.

Munoz is a funny lady, and her show is often hilarious. We laugh because we recognise the struggles she face, and also because so much of what she does, makes us feel uneasy. A significant segment involves audience participation, and one lucky viewer gets to be on stage for more than a few minutes to help Greta indulge in her craziest delusions. It is as unnerving as it sounds.

The best of theatre happens when safety nets are removed, and everything comes to life. Munoz’s face might be hiding under chalk white pancake, but she opens herself up to our incontrovertible presence, accepting and encouraging our input into her performance. The vulnerability is moving, and the fragility is beautiful.

The truth is that we are sad about Greta’s sadness, rather than her failure to find a mate. Some of us wish that she gets her man some day, and some of us wish that she finds something else more meaningful on which to expend her energy. Life promises so much, but for most of us, it gives so little. There is always more to want, but to be in love with what we do have, is how the days become a bit sweeter.

www.old505theatre.com

Review: Smurf In Wanderland (National Theatre Of Parramatta / Griffin Theatre Company)

>Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), May 2 – 13, 2017
Playwright: David Williams
Director: Lee Lewis
Cast: David Williams
Image by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Life means little without passion. David Williams loves football, and he is here to tell us all about it, whether we like it or not. Smurf In Wanderland offers us more than a glimpse into the world of a football tragic, and while it may often be tedious for those of us who are sport-averse, Williams’ more general observations about Sydney life are truly valuable. He talks about modern city tribes, and all the silly things we do to feel belonged. There are attempts at explaining desire, the most potent yet bewildering of human qualities, looking at why we do the things we do, and the bizarreness of us all as a species.

There are moments of poignancy, fleeting yet memorable, including a sequence about the discontentment of those in Western Sydney, and our habitual postcode bias against those perceived to be less metropolitan. We delve into the fundamental masochism involved in rooting for teams when games will always insist on having losers. There is a lot to relish about Smurf In Wanderland, but it all lies beneath the surface. We are given an opportunity to understand our community better, but it is not always an enjoyable process. Sifting through Williams’ obsessive detailing of soccer fandom is fun for some, but exasperating for others. It is a story about us and them, told in a way that makes the ostracism it is concerned about, feel very genuine indeed.

As performer, Williams is charismatic and engaging., with a determination that forbids our attention from straying. His enthusiasm for the Sydney Football Club is a propulsive force that fills the stage with energy, and we must respond with anything but ambivalence. At the end of the piece, there will be individuals who experience fulfilment, and those who will feel worse for wear, but it is likely that all will share a fondness for the personality we had met.

The presentation breaks through the superficial walls we erect between one another. We imagine people to be different, as a way to validate our own existences, but we all exist in undeniable parallels. Our values may be different, but the lenses through which we view the world do not alter the world as it is. If art and sport are in opposition, then Smurf In Wanderland forces us out of our echo chambers and disrupts the silo effect, at least for one night. To love thy neighbour is easier said than done, but few things are as worthwhile an exercise.

www.riversideparramatta.com.au/NTofP | www.griffintheatre.com.au

Review: Big Fish (RPG Productions)

Venue: Hayes Theatre Co (Potts Point NSW), Apr 18 – May 14, 2017
Book: John August (based on the novel by Daniel Wallace and the screenplay by John August)
Music & Lyrics: Andrew Lippa
Director: Tyran Parke
Choreographer: Cameron Mitchell
Cast: Kirby Burgess, Seth Drury, Joel Granger, Brendan Godwin, Zoe Ioannou, Brenden Lovett, Phillip Lowe, Alessandra Merlo, Adam Rennie, Katrina Retallick, Brittanie Shipway, Aaron Tsindos, Zachary Webster
Image by Kate Williams

Theatre review
Edward Bloom spins yarns that only he can believe. He deals with reality using outrageous embellishment, but these tall tales have alienated his son Will, who struggles to connect with the man behind the illusions. Big Fish is about life and death, love and family, all the emotional stuff that make musicals work. A formula exists because it is effective, and here, we see all the obvious manipulations that get us to a predictable sentimental peak, yet we cannot help getting ourselves entangled in all of the Bloom family’s drama.

Dubbed the “12 Chairs Version”, this rendition may be streamlined, but director Tyran Parke brings a richness to the staging, with simple but exciting visuals that live up, surprisingly, to the story’s imaginative landscapes. The cast is buoyant and bubbly, determined to entertain. Leading man Phillip Lowe is fabulously charming, but problems with a throat infection seriously impair his ability to deliver the show’s many very grand showtunes. Instead, on hand to offer vocal magic is Adam Rennie in the role of Will, who is nothing less than sensational when the songs get chipper and stirring.

Women characters in Big Fish are often pathetically conceived, but the players do their best to bring life to their parts. Katrina Retallick takes the role of an embarrassingly docile mother, and turns her into a memorable figure; warm, generous and full of spirit. Her delivery of the heartbreaking “I Don’t Need A Roof” is a highlight, with Retallick’s performing talent proving to be the most captivating feature of the production. Also delightful is Brenden Lovett, simultaneously grotesque and adorable as circus ringmaster Calloway. The most over-the-top of Edward’s fantasies is also one of the most moving, when given the Lovett treatment.

We all know that our lives are finite, but we rarely think about how our deaths affect the way we live. We go about our daily business as though there is always tomorrow to worry about, but the unassailable truth is that death will come too soon. Edward was offered, as a child, a glimpse of his final moments, and what he saw was joyful. If we can all believe that what we eventually leave behind is going to be good, then our experience of today, must surely be replete with contentment.

www.bigfishaustralia.com.au

Review: Bengal Tiger At The Baghdad Zoo (Mad March Hare Theatre Company)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Apr 12 – May 6, 2017
Playwright: Rajiv Joseph
Director: Claudia Barrie
Cast: Josh Anderson, Tyler De Nawi, Maggie Dence, Andrew Lindqvist, Stephen Multari, Megan Smart, Aanisa Vylet
Image by Kate Williams

Theatre review
It is a prayer of anguish and pain. In addressing God, Rajiv Joseph offers a meditation on the biggest challenges faced by humankind at this moment in time, from perspectives personal and global. Bengal Tiger At The Baghdad Zoo talks about the ceaseless wars that take place in the middle east, and the sacrifices made to all lives no matter which side of the battle they reside. It also deals heavily with guilt and regret, universal experiences that allow audiences to relate even closer to its characters and stories.

The writing is emotional and imaginative, with ghosts and paranoia haunting the living, and troubling philosophy interrogating the dead. Having Americans and Iraqis at the centre of the action might allow Australian viewers to distance ourselves from its very difficult themes, but the production’s extraordinary intensity is determined to have us embroiled. It is powerful work by director Claudia Barrie, who invests great detail and dynamism into all facets of her show.

An unrelenting atmosphere of tension akin to horror movies and war zones, is marvellously established by a bevy of design talents. Nate Edmondson’s music in particular, impresses with its exceptional precision in calibrating tonal shifts, allowing us to flow with the play’s many surprising and contrasting moods, with no apparent effort at all. Lights are appropriately colourful for a show that revels in its hallucinations, with Benjamin Brockman’s robust approach providing excellent visual variety to a small and restrictive stage. Stephanie Howe’s costumes and Isable Hudon’s set design are simple but always effective and convincing, especially admirable considering the economy at which they operate.

An ensemble of seven remarkable actors perform an unforgettable show, each one commanding, with strong interpretations of their individual parts but beautifully cohesive as a whole. Andrew Lindqvist is stunning as Musa, demonstrating a level of authenticity that makes theatre pure magic. The kinds of torment being described is, to most of us, quite unimaginable, but Musa’s story is laid bare in front of us, entirely convincing and heartbreaking. It is in the way Lindqvist brings meaning to his lines, and in the way his physicality manifests between those lines, that the essence of suffering can be so clearly observed. His work is dramatic and breathtaking, but also profound in its subtle assertions; the actor is fantastic. Josh Anderson and Stephen Multari play American soldiers, both engaging, and moving, with fascinating psychological complexities provides to what are usually reductive ways of portraying military personnel. The eponymous tiger is brought to life by Maggie Dence, who has a tendency to seem overly static, but the quality of omniscience she brings is invaluable. Tyler De Nawi, Megan Smart and Aanisa Vylet are all given scene-stealing opportunities, and although their appearances are relatively brief, they each leave an indelible mark on this stage.

Maybe God does exist out there in the ether, or maybe we are all gods in the here and now. We can crane our necks and ask for answers, but we will never be absolved from doing the best to make the world a better place. We must try to figure things out ourselves, for as we see here, divine intervention never did arrive. For good to happen, it is only up to us, but evil is real, and in Bengal Tiger, it does not know itself. In the play’s pessimism, our actions result in harm, and civilisation is on a downward spiral, but it is a work of fantasy, and how we respond, is another one of its mysteries.

www.madmarchtheatreco.com

Review: The Sylph (Harlos Productions / The Old 505 Theatre)

Venue: Old 505 Theatre (Newtown NSW), Apr 18 – 29, 2017
Playwright: Jodi Rose
Director: Colleen Cook
Cast: Gertraud Ingeborg

Theatre review
The legacy left behind by the celebrated 19th century ballerina Marie Taglioni, can be found in the world of dance, but in Jodi Rose’s The Sylph, we come to meet with her in a play. Stories from her life are relayed directly, to an audience curious about Taglioni’s biography. When we see dancers, they are picture perfect. What we see is effortless, often sublime, with all that happens behind the scenes kept tightly under wraps.

The monologue provides information about Taglioni’s history, but there is little in terms of drama that could be gleaned. There are no great eruptions of emotion, no spicy scandals, and few dark secrets. It is a meaningful existence from a distant past, discussed with a simplicity that is perhaps underwhelming for a generation accustom to much more outrageous tales of unrelenting impropriety by famous types.

Gertraud Ingeborg is in the starring role, impressive and convincing with her physical expressions as ballet expert. The graceful beauty she brings to the piece is commendable, along with an undeniable strength in her presence that keeps us engaged. It is a flattering image of both actor and character that the show presents, under the directorship of Colleen Cook, who demonstrates an elegant and effective use of space, but the plot structure would benefit from greater effort in manufacturing a sense of tension for The Sylph‘s storytelling.

Female geniuses are consistently obliterated from our history books and our consciousness. Works like The Sylph are important in finding redress to this injustice. To know that women have achieved as much as, or more than, our male counterparts, is crucial to how we see ourselves today and how future generations will be able to live out their potentials. For women who wish to be great mothers and wives, there are plenty of success stories, but for the rest of us who desire anything else, we need every opportunity to encounter our predecessors.

www.old505theatre.com

Review: Fallen (Sport For Jove Theatre)

Venue: Seymour Centre (Chippendale NSW), Apr 6 – 22, 2017
Playwright: Seanna van Helten
Director: Penny Harpham
Cast: Lucy Goleby, Megan Holloway, Chantelle Jamieson, Abbie-lee Lewis, Moreblessing Maturure, Rebecca Montalti, Eloise Winestock
Image by Marnya Rothe

Theatre review
It is 19th century England, and the women in Seanna van Helten’s Fallen are told what to wear, how to act, and which to think. The story takes place in a kind of halfway house, where women who have transgressed morality are banished, to be put through a process of rehabilitation. There is a Victorian severity to these characters’ lives, but what the play demonstrates more relevantly, is how those archaic ways retain control over us today; we still insist on telling women how they should look and behave.

Van Helten’s writing is subtle, a quiet mystery with depths of emotion and meaning, discoverable under surfaces of restrained tumult. The six women of Fallen reveal little, but an authenticity is nonetheless present. The work is challenging to perform. Actors are required to imagine all that is hiding between the lines, and the bolder they are at manifesting the unsaid, the more effective their show becomes. It is a likeable ensemble, but not always powerful enough to overcome the cryptic nature of the writing. Lucy Goleby is matron of the house, a staunch, stern character who is depicted with a greater sense of definition than the rest. We rely on Goleby to bring the drama, which she does often, especially when she taps into the eerie, slightly gothic quality that the piece lends itself to.

The production has a mild temperament, almost timid in its expressions. At its best, Fallen is haunting and transcendent, but the show can quickly turn tepid and consequently lose connection with its audience. We wonder what the women had done to have them condemned, and who they truly are, but our interest seems to swell and wane, through different junctures of the plot. There are moments of design brilliance to relish; Raya Slavin’s music and Sian James-Holland’s lights are attractive, even though inconsistencies in atmosphere add to the show’s issues with dramatic tension. We see all the potential on this stage, and wish for greater impact, with more audacious approaches.

The women in Fallen have no choice but to be compliant. Our world today is significantly different, with much more liberated attitudes than before, yet we submit everyday, to fears of stepping out of line, whether or not repercussions are real. We alter our own behaviour to conform and to appease, and expect the same of other women. Well-behaved women seldom make history, but it is not only for the momentous that we should dare to be ourselves. It is what happens in our regular day-to-day that requires us to be vigilant over the power that we own and that we should never be fearful of.

www.sportforjove.com.au

Review: Hysteria (Darlinghurst Theatre Company)

Venue: Eternity Playhouse (Darlinghurst NSW), Mar 31 – Apr 30, 2017
Playwright: Terry Johnson
Director: Susanna Dowling
Cast: Miranda Daughtry, Michael McStay, Wendy Strehlow, Jo Turner
Image by Robert Catto

Theatre review
Sigmund Freud is near the end of his life, and the past returns to haunt him. We all change our minds, but writers have the burden of their work set in stone. In Terry Johnson’s 1993 play Hysteria, a fictive version of Freud is made to regret his declarations about women’s rape fantasies. It seems that the legendary psychoanalyst had misrepresented experiences of his patients, turning their reality into imagination, so that his work would be better received. Johnson’s piece about the need to redress denials of rape and molestation, is a timely discussion in the current climate of renewed interest in feminism, but Hysteria is a dry, and often inelegant, work that proves to be less than captivating.

The production looks smart enough, with Anna Gardiner’s set and costume design establishing a splendid first impression. Projections of Julian Tynan’s cinematography appear later in the piece, equally delightful with the imagery it presents. It is an accomplished group of actors, each one demonstrating a good sense of presence and conviction, but chemistry is lacking, and the stories they tell never seem to fortify. We are left feeling confused and detached, unable to adequately follow its narrative or to satisfactorily engage in any of its ideas. It is a laborious exercise for the audience, trying to work out the point of the exercise, and when we eventually gain clarity, Hysteria‘s concerns fail to resonate.

Individual elements of the show all look to be at least adequate, but they coalesce to form something that is altogether disappointing. Its characters are not lifeless; Salvador Dali is written in, presumably, to further enhance the quotient of eccentricity in Freud’s colourful world, but there is little in Hysteria that excites. Art does not owe us entertainment, nor does it promise to always be meaningful. In art, there is no right and wrong, but a work can certainly fall short of the standards it sets itself.

www.darlinghursttheatre.com

Review: White Rabbit Red Rabbit (Freefall Productions)

Venue: Kings Cross Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Apr 4 – 15, 2017
Playwright: Nassim Soleimanpour
Cast: Ylaria Rogers
Image by

Theatre review
The play requires that its actor comes to the performance “blind”, not knowing anything about what lies on the pages of the playbook. It is a complete mystery to the person on stage, and also to those in the audience who are seeing Nassim Soleimanpour’s White Rabbit Red Rabbit for the first time. It is significant that the 2010 work was created when its 29-year-old author was forbidden from leaving his country Iran. The autocratic regime that he had to endure is not directly denounced in Soleimanpour’s writing, but its presence and influence on the piece, are clear.

We are made to consider how a police state operates, especially in terms of the complicity and compliance of citizens that allow inhumanity to thrive. The play shifts attention away from the way authorities intrude upon private lives, and looks instead at how the everyday person monitors and subjugates one another unconsciously, especially in cultures where freedoms are severely restricted. We are urged to think about the deficiencies in free will, and how easy it is for society to manipulate our empathy and deprive us of compassion. It wants us to see the tragedy that exists in our exploitable susceptibility to mistreating each other, and our readiness at forming habits of intolerance, hate and violence. It is to the writer’s credit that these grave and important issues are not only communicated powerfully in spite of its need to be cryptic, White Rabbit Red Rabbit is surprisingly humorous and entertaining.

Like Soleimanpour at the time of writing this script, actor Ylaria Rogers is in a position of vulnerability as she moves through the lines and instructions of every page. She submits to the text that she holds in her hands, but like those of us who have gathered to witness this unusual theatrical moment, our volition is constantly called to question. Ylaria’s obedience, and ours, come into examination, leading us to confront the nature of authority, and how it is constructed. Authority is often imagined, but even when it is real and life-threatening, the power of the masses can overthrow any dictator that sits atop. The conundrum is in our inability to perceive that collective force, and our failure to understand that the fear we experience is shared and can only manifest if we allow it to.

www.freefallproductions.com.au