Review: Dead Time (Lace Balloon)

laceballoon1Venue: 107 Projects (Redfern NSW), May 20 – 29, 2015
Playwright: Fleur Beaupert
Director: Fleur Beaupert
Cast: Paul Armstrong, Lara Lightfoot, Abi Rayment, Robert Rhode, Melissa Kathryn Rose, Eleni Schumacher, Barton Williams
Image by Phyllis Wong

Theatre review
Stories about the underdog hold a tenacious appeal. Fleur Beaupert’s Dead Time is based on the events surrounding Dr Mohamed Haneef’s arrest and subsequent release in 2007, at a time when the Australian government was placing threats of terrorism front and centre in the national consciousness. The post-9/11 era has allowed public life (including politics and media) to encroach upon individual liberties in the name of vigilance, and our collective paranoia is used to justify racist persecutions in place of sound legal processes. The script is partly verbatim, and it makes a conscious effort to depict events with accuracy. Consequently, moments of heightened drama are few, even though tension is effectively manufactured with relative consistency. Haneef’s ordeal is rightly portrayed as institutionalised exploitation, and the play’s purpose is to give voice to the oppressed. In the case of contemporary Australia, people of the Muslim faith are especially relevant to this discussion. Beaupert’s work as writer and director is not always elegant, but what she has created, is a compelling and stirring statement against our gradually increasing acceptance of injustice in the name of national security. It is a touchy subject, and the show elicits our emotional involvement effortlessly, and for many, its protestations are representative of how we feel about the world today, and the passion on display is reflective of our attitudes about the themes at hand.

Performances are uneven, but leading man Robert Rhode is entirely captivating. The actor’s presence and instincts are a real pleasure to witness, and his easy confidence allows us to empathise with his character at every point of his journey. His interpretation of innocence is authentic, and he builds just enough complexity into Haneef’s victimisation so that we identify intimately with his predicament and his fears. The production is a showcase for Rhode’s talent, which seems scarcely trained, but in its rawness, we observe a natural flair that emanates, and recognise in it, a fragility that makes the cruel mistreatment suffered by Haneef all the more upsetting.

Dead Time is not a polished work, but the clarity and importance of its message makes it a standout in a landscape of bourgeois concerns that characterises our lucky country. The land of the fair go has become delusional in its self identity, refusing to come to grips with its evolution into a Western power that has little capacity for compassion. We insist on seeing ourselves as earthy, sincere and wholesome. We think us better than our corrupt siblings of United States and Europe, but in fact our dealings in regional issues are shameful. Our eagerness to vilify, intimidate and abuse those in need is an extension of the way we have maltreated Aboriginal communities since 1788. Australia’s European history refuses to learn from its own mistakes, and we are now in the middle of a new cycle of violence that is heading towards a repeat performance of its very worst.

laceballoon.wordpress.com

Review: Decay (Eclective Productions)

eclectiveVenue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), May 19 – 24, 2015
Playwright: Melissa Lee Speyer
Director: Rachel Chant
Cast: Joel Horwood, Rosie Lourde
Image by Pamela Amores

Theatre review
The act of storytelling can sometimes be more interesting than the actual content being shared. This is an important feature of theatrical experiences, because original stories are hard to come by, but finding new ways to relay old tales is what keeps us challenged and excited. Melissa Lee Speye’s Decay experiments with timelines and plot structures, using very little words, to create a work that depicts the human condition in a truthful but unusual light. The context involves death and disaster, but the production is not particularly moving. Instead, it connects with our curiosity and intellect for a seventy-minute journey that is more cerebral than visceral. It interacts with us by prompting a series of questions that may be about the characters on stage, but mostly, of the world in general.

Centre stage is Joel Horwood, who takes on the challenge of portraying extreme emotions but without the indulgence of a conventional narrative flow. The actor manufactures tension well, and it is clear to see that he invests heavily into the role’s emotional arc. Horwood is dynamic and focused, but the mysterious nature of the play prevents us from getting too caught up with the protagonist in all his drama. Direction by Rachel Chant gives the production a tautness in pace and atmosphere, and her commitment to an unconventional and sometimes surreal theatrical form is refreshing and quite courageous. Nate Edmondson’s sound design is cleverly imagined, and beautifully realised. Without many spoken lines to occupy our minds with, Edmondson’s contribution takes on greater importance than usual. More than any other element of the show, it is the sound that provides us with the information required to help make sense of the intriguing chaos that unfolds.

Toying with conventions is always risky, and in the case of Decay, it ticks many boxes but leaves us cold. It does not entertain sufficiently, but it satisfies in other ways. With a defined artistic vision, we are impressed by the way it bends rules and negotiates boundaries. There is good work to be admired herein, and like most daring ventures, it will unsettle a little, and at times, it might even disappoint, but we can be certain that what is served is not rehashed rubbish rolled in glitter or painting by numbers, which is very comforting indeed.

www.facebook.com/EclectiveProductions

Review: The House Of Ramon Iglesia (Mophead Productions / Red Line Productions)

mopheadVenue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), May 12 – Jun 6, 2015
Playwright: José Rivera
Director: Anthony Skuse
Cast: Christian Charisiou, Deborah Galanos, Nicholas Papademetriou, Ronny Jon Paul Mouawad, Stephen Multari, Eloise Snape, David Soncin
Image by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
No man is an island. We need to feel a sense of belonging, not only with other people, but also with places. José Rivera’s The House Of Ramon Iglesia investigates the significance of ancestry and roots, through the experience of Puerto Rican migrants in 1980 New York. The Iglesia family is dislocated in a space between San Juan and Holbrook, and its two generations illustrate the complexity of human attachment to a sense of country and home. In our modern times, populations are in constant flux, and the arbitrariness of borders is negotiated to allow for opportunities and interested parties to collide. The matter of nationalities is no longer a straightforward concept for many, and Rivera’s work questions its importance and indeed, its relevance to individual lives.

Anthony Skuse’s direction of the piece is a passionate rendering that delivers an engaging and energetic theatre, but our empathy for its characters only arrives several scenes after it begins. Early sequences feel distant, perhaps a result of their estranged temporal and geographic contexts. Its themes take time to connect, and even though many of its ideas can be universal, we only recognise them after some investment of imagination and patience, but when the show shifts into a gear of high drama, the play becomes a dynamic one, with performances that impress with emotional depth, and a compelling cast chemistry that creates an extraordinarily believable family unit.

When actors are focused and psychologically accurate, we surrender our trust and follow their journeys without hesitation. Deborah Galanos’ intensity gives her Dolores an admirable strength and although quite flamboyant in her approach, we do not question the authenticity of what is being presented. The melodrama Galanos introduces is delightfully entertaining, and allows the actor to expand her characterisation beyond the scripted lines, so that who we meet is greater than an archetypal maternal figure. In the smaller role of Charlie is David Soncin, whose memorable performance is coloured with a natural exuberance and an effortless magnetism. He plays his role with clear and simple intentions, but always discovers powerful subtleties that add surprising dimension to his work. Stephen Multari’s conviction and emotional sonority is a highlight in many scenes of confrontation and feuding. Javier’s inner world is central to the effectiveness of the play, and Multari’s depiction of it is beautifully resonant. The actor’s vigour and earnestness however, can seem out of place in the show’s more tranquil moments, and opportunities are missed that could allow the character to be more endearing, so that we care more about the lead and all the people surrounding him.

When we think of identity, we inevitably go to beliefs about bloodlines and origin. Place is important, but how we manufacture meaning between lived experience and geography is idiosyncratic and personal, yet collectivism is always a part of the discussion. We talk of nations of peoples, and we talk of partners and kins. Rivera’s story is about that conundrum, not just of how we use identity labels, but also how these labels intersect between friends and family. Each person can have an intimate and private understanding of their own space in the big scheme of things, but arbitration will always exist, even for the strongest.

www.oldfitztheatre.com | www.mophead.com.au

Review: Storm Boy (Barking Gecko / Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Apr 24 – May 17, 2015
Playwright: Tom Holloway (based on the book by Colin Thiele)
Director: John Sheedy
Cast: Jimi Bani, Julian Garner, Kai Lewins, Rory Potter, Phil Dean Walford, Anthony Mayor
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Christians believe that “Man is more valuable to God than animals,” and “men were created in the image of God”. Indeed, humankind often thinks of itself as separate from nature, and superior to it. We then give ourselves permission to devour and ravage the planet as though a commodity at our disposal, without its own rights and destinies. Colin Thiele’s book Storm Boy was published in 1964, and in 1976, its film version was released. Theatre productions are staged regularly to introduce new generations of children to the story, and its lessons, not only of environment conservation, but also of death, grief, and for Australian audiences, the relationship between Aboriginal and European cultures on our land.

John Sheedy’s direction of the piece is intelligent, creative and tender. It is a soulful rendition of an innocent tale that can touch the hardest of hearts. The expert level of stagecraft being incorporated is sophisticated and dynamic, with its puppetry elements a breathtaking stand out. Phil Dean Walford and Anthony Mayor are dancers who provide an indigenous omnipresence to the show, while simultaneously, and marvellously, operating the pelicans that share centre stage with its protagonist. Peter Wilson is Puppetry Director, and along with Michael Scott-Mitchell who is designer for set, costumes and the puppets, their artful vision is successfully translated to convey Thiele’s magical tale with great poignancy. Lighting Designer Damien Cooper and Sound Designer Kingsley Reeve both contribute extraordinarily inventive work that help form a fantastical experience that is truly amazing.

The lead role of Storm Boy is played by Rory Potter who impresses with an almighty focus and a deep understanding of his character’s journey. We see him completely absorbed, and believe unreservedly in all that he portrays. His father Tom is performed with subtle complexity by Julian Garner, an efficient and restrained actor who manages to reveal a world of emotion with a beautifully minimal approach. Jimi Bani is the boy’s mentor and friend, Fingerbone, an animated and passionate personality manifested by Bani’s excellent use of gesture and movement. Chemistry between the cast is natural, strong and joyful. Together, their work is consistently engaging, in a show that speaks intimately to our humanity and remarkable in its capacity to move us. Theatre can do many things, but one of its greatest accomplishments is to remind us of the enormity and largesse of the universe, beyond our selfish daily concerns. Life is meaningless when we refuse to look at the big picture, and that is exactly what Storm Boy wants us to see.

www.barkinggecko.com.auwww.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Antigone (Théâtre Excentrique)

theatreexcentriqueVenue: PACT Theatre (Erskineville NSW), Apr 23 – May 2, 2015
Playwright: Jean Anouilh (translated by Kris Shalvey and Anna Jahjah)
Director: Anna Jahjah
Cast: Roslyn Blake, Kate Fraser, Kirsty Jordan, Aurora Kinsella, Karl Kinsella, Philippe Klaus, Neil Modra, Gerry Sont, Ellen Williams, and students from Blacktown Girls High

Theatre review
The word “wilful” is usually applied to the young, along with connotations of idealism and immaturity. We think of them as “not knowing any better” to explain away their inconvenient behaviour. The lead character in Jean Anouilh’s Antigone is all of the above, but she is also virtuous. Like us, her world is one that has too many things gone awry, yet everyone is required to stick to its rules in order that an illusory sense of order can be preserved. Anarchic activity is often classed criminal, regardless of intentions good, bad or ugly. This twenty year-old woman knows the dire consequences that await but she is fearless, and proceeds to do what she believes to be right. Anouilh’s version of the Greek tragedy is passionate, philosophical and political. It is a stirring piece of writing that provides inspiration for the way we make choices, and the way we create theatre. Its incorporation of a chorus and narrator allows for ideas to be articulated directly, while sequences of realism (beautifully preserved in this English language translation by Kris Shalvey and Anna Jahjah) puts us in scenarios that feel familiar in spite of their contextual distance.

Direction of the piece by Jahjah is energetic and suitably expressive. The use of a chorus comprising only of young girls, puts focus on the dimension of gender in the play’s arguments. All dressed in white, their innocence and purity of spirit are the physical embodiment of the text’s key motifs. Use of space is inventive and thoughtful. Characters are positioned freely within the dynamically designed space, and their movements contribute to the depiction of emotional states and of narratives unfolding. Jahjah’s work may not always be affecting, but her production is a surprisingly entertaining one.

Ellen Williams is impressive as our heroine, with a deeply authentic fury and righteousness that gives the show its poignant foundations. We share Antigone’s beliefs, and are thrilled to see her fighting with conviction and wild abandon. Williams shows glimpses of tenderness and sadness that helps us connect with her role’s humanity, but these do not surface often enough. The cast works well to keep us amused and engaged, but many of the key roles are not explored with enough complexity and nuance. Creon is Antigone’s uncle and adversary, whose strong oppositional points of view raise the stakes and add to the drama, but Neil Modra’s work, while exuberant and charmingly idiosyncratic, does not convey his character’s beliefs with sufficient clarity. The central struggle of the show then becomes unbalanced and disappointingly, weakened.

There are many things we want for our children, but courage is not always at the top of lists. We are afraid of what might result, and prefer instead for them to grow up cautious, sensible and safe. It is our responsibility after all, to be their shelter from harm. In Antigone, honour comes at a price, although glory is nowhere to be found. In a tragedy where nobody wins, the moral of the story can be ambiguous. The value of a life is usually determined by how well we live it, and how long we are able to experience it. Only in rare cases are we able to judge a life by the legacy it leaves behind.

www.theatrexcentrique.com

Review: Vice (Emu Productions)

emuproductionsVenue: King Street Theatre (Newtown NSW), Apr 21 – May 9, 2015
Playwright: Melvyn Morrow
Director: Elaine Hudson
Cast: Margi De Ferranti, Jonathan Deves, Roger Gimblett, Christopher Hamilton, Jess Loudon, Benjamin McCann

Theatre review
Writing a play about hot topics of the day is a delicate operation. Reiterating dominant schools of thought without adding new perspectives will make the work seem lightweight and redundant, but proffering alternative ideas can be dangerous, especially when the issue is a sensitive one. Melvyn Morrow’s Vice joins the very contemporary discussion on the sexual assault of children by authority figures in religious institutions. We meet Jasper, a manipulative eighteen year-old who uses his burgeoning sexuality as currency, and the guardians at his affluent high school who exploit their custodial positions over students in their care. The illusion of consent that exists between people in hierarchical organisations become further complicated by the issue of age. Society acknowledges a certain legal age where people become adults, but within the paradigm of school and family, we believe in a sacred sense of protection that must prevail for all our daughters and sons. Morrow writes with an ambiguity that inspires thought, and although unlikely to change anyone’s moral position, his story opens up points in a hackneyed argument that may have been previously overlooked. The play’s structure is engaging and tight, with character transformations and edgy dialogue that provide drama and intellectual stimulation.

Direction by Elaine Hudson is punchy and passionate, and although personalities are not always convincing, their narratives are conveyed with enough clarity so that the plot retains its complexities without losing too much coherence. Morrow’s script is often witty, but comedy is not handled well in the production. The cast is under-rehearsed with an inordinate frequency of actors tripping over lines, and several key roles are approached with insufficient depth, resulting in emotions that lack accuracy. The play is situated in modern day Sydney, but its speech emulates an artificial upper class affectation that seems to have been awkwardly derived from mid twentieth century English film and television, that can occasionally cause a troubling dislocation of space and time. On a brighter note, all performances are energetic, with an enjoyable urgency that holds our attention. Playing Olivia Fox is Jess Loudon who attacks with conviction and a charming boldness. Her part is simpler than the other darker characters, but Loudon brings nuance and texture to create a presence on stage that the audience can relate to.

Societal progression involves the dismantlement of old organisations that have proven themselves contrary to democratic ideologies. The pervasiveness and influence of religion in our lives run thorough and broad. Many profit from archaic power structures, and are determined to sustain them by deceptive and cowardly means. The rich and powerful choose a status quo that requires poverty and powerlessness to exist, so resistance and change can only occur at snail place (if at all). Communities are divided and conquered by a 1% of humanity, that insist we continue to participate, knowingly and unconsciously, in all the rituals of daily life that perpetuate our own oppression, in ignorance and isolation. Only when we find an appetite for destruction big enough and brave enough, that revolution can happen. There is a gentle flame in Vice that can inspire, and perhaps provide a spark that can lead to a solution for these disturbing circumstances that we should all be very concerned about.

www.kingstreettheatre.com.au

Review: Haircuts (Mantouridion Theatre)

haircutsVenue: Mantouridion Theatre (Marrickville NSW), Apr 15 – 26, 2015
Playwright: Con Nats
Director: Lex Marinos
Cast: Demitra Alexandria, Valentino Arico, John Derum, Barbara Gouskos, Adam Hatzimanolis, Richard Hilliar, Tim Ressos

Theatre review
Successful plays encapsulate a slice of life and represent to its audience something meaningful. Con Nats’ Haircuts is an ambitious work that tries to bring many different threads together, revealing a hunger to tell many stories and an urgency for committing a wealth of ideas to the stage. Its narrative style is conventional, but its structure is less so. Focus shifts regularly, and subplots become overwhelming, resulting in a disorienting uncertainty about the show’s main plot and its centre. There is a big emphasis on multiculturalism, which although interesting, does not contribute directly to the way key narratives unfold. Machismo is also explored thoroughly, and frequently used for laughs, but it contributes to an uncomfortable gender imbalance where all the women in the play are constantly defined against their husbands, fathers and sons.

Direction of the work by Lex Marinos is a passionate effort, and individual scenes are carefully explored, but the production does not assemble into a cohesive whole. The awkward imbalances between amusing asides that take up too much time, and poignant character developments that go past too gently, cause important elements to lose clarity and the play can often seem undecided about what it intends to convey. Performances are uneven but strong players include Barbara Gouskos who brings a beautiful gravity to the role of Angela, delivering a convincing, albeit brief, portrayal of a woman who has experienced very dark days. Her measured approach is authentically emotional and with it, she introduces to us a special and resonant moment of shared humanity. Richard Hilliar’s Stanley is a quiet and tender contrast to the clamorous goings-on, and offers up the only well-rounded personality in a throng of unoriginal stereotypes. His chemistry with co-actors can be improved, but the actor does his best to anchor the show in a position of subtlety that helps us relate to the world being depicted.

The production requires distillation, but even in its imperfect form, it is not without strengths. Some of the dialogue is beautifully deep, and much of the acting is energetic and earnest, in fact it might be said that there is often too much of a good thing, which could only lead to the ridiculously obvious conclusion that Haircuts needs a bit of shearing.

conats.wix.com/haircuts

Review: Orphans (Old Fitz Theatre / Red Line Productions)

oldfitzVenue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Apr 14 – May 9, 2015
Playwright: Lyle Kessler
Director: Anthony Gooley
Cast: Danny Adcock, Aaron Glenane, Andrew Henry
Image by Rupert Reid

Theatre review
Many have likened love to air, associating both with an absolute necessity for survival. Unlike air however, love can manifest in many unpredictable ways, and in Orphans, we see how the best of intentions can become cruel behaviour responsible for untold suffering. Phillip and Treat are brothers who have grown up without parents. They share a close mutual reliance, but without any guidance, their instincts have created young men who are dysfunctional together and apart. Beneath the boisterous tone of Lyle Kessler’s writing, is a tender depiction of relationships that has the potential to move and to connect with every person’s experiences of difficult family dynamics. We all have an understanding of the imperfections that exist in our homes, and the accuracy at which the brothers’ problematic and insular world is explored, allows for thorough identification and empathy.

The production is directed well by Anthony Gooley, who ensures that characters are complex and fascinating, with an amplified realism that provides a sense of familiarity even though the circumstances being staged are fairly extreme. It is an unusual and unpredictable story, relayed with vigour and heightened drama, but we do not perceive a great sense of purpose to the director’s work, other than to establish an atmosphere of enthrallment for the duration of the play. We are gripped for its entirety but leave without discovering great insight that matches the gravity of what is seen. The character of Harold is a father figure who destabilises the brothers’ cozy dwelling, performed by Danny Adcock with excellent conviction and strength, but the role is positioned neither enigmatic enough nor believable enough. Harold’s presence does not always make sense in the narrative, and our questioning of his authenticity is an unfortunate dissuasion.

Aaron Glenane turns in a magnificent performance as the younger brother, Phillip. The actor is marvelously nuanced in his intensity, expressing with great efficacy an exhaustive range of psychological possibilities and physical attributes, completely captivating in a beautifully embellished characterisation of damaged innocence. Glenane’s approach is adventurous and playful, but also sensitive and studied. He understands chemistry instinctively, and fosters a strong bond with colleagues and audience that keeps us invested in Phillip’s plight. Offering a macho and manic counterbalance is Treat, the older brother played by Andrew Henry with a threatening and exuberant energy that keeps us anxiously seduced. The largeness of his personality keeps us on the edge, tense in anticipation of his next outburst of trespass or feelings. It is a powerful performance, but Henry’s final scene requires further finessing. A transition of emotion occurs too suddenly and unexpectedly, taking lustre away from the Orphans‘ concluding moment of piquancy.

We encounter strangers every day, but letting new people into our lives is a rare occurrence. The desire for a sense of permanence and security means that we prevent new influences from infiltrating, whether positive or negative. Phillip and Treat had made a habit of their suffering, unaware that a better way of life was within their grasp. Inspiration resides everywhere, and we must be able to welcome it in when the right ones present themselves, so that life can be lived to the fullest, and with any luck, be survived by a legacy of something good.

www.oldfitztheatre.com

Review: Seeing Unseen (Old 505 Theatre)

old505Venue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Apr 8 – 26, 2015
Devised by: Gareth Boylan, Michael Cullen, Kerri Glasscock, Michael Pigott
Director: Gareth Boylan
Cast: Michael Cullen, Kerri Glasscock, Michael Pigott

Theatre review
Nature and technology are a convenient dichotomy. We like thinking that they are mutually exclusive, as though nature has no part to play in the advancement of technology, and we imagine an ideal state where the primitive is pure and only good. This romantic notion of a regression of time that could bring us back to some place better, is the catalyst for many of the ideas in Seeing Unseen. The work is surreal and abstract, and slightly science fiction in style, but the universe it depicts is familiar to us. It is concerned with our daily lives, with all our petty interests and preoccupations, except it amplifies and articulates the parts that should be automatic and unheeded, and everything becomes strange. The play is about relationships, human volition, memory and of course, technology. Its narrative is an odd one, and even though we understand all that is happening, the key to its purpose can only be found late into the piece. The mysterious nature of its structure is a hugely satisfying one that keeps us on our toes, and makes our minds work overtime, trying to put pieces together, and to construct meaning out of a deceptive and fractured text.

Performance styles by the outstandingly cohesive yet individually brilliant trio of Michael Cullen, Kerri Glasscock and Michael Pigott, run the gamut from soap opera naturalism to high art avant garde. The fluidity of form, and confidence in composition means that its very original mode of presentation, although unique and deeply interesting, never feels forced or patronising. We know that we are witnessing brave creativity in unorthodox motion, but it is engaging and friendly. Gareth Boylan’s direction is sensitive to his audience’s needs and capacities. He keeps us satisfied by providing our senses with what they crave, but always adds an extra dimension that causes a little disorientation. We are offered more than we bargain for, and it is thrilling. There is however, a sense of repetition in the plot that can outstay its welcome. The premise of the work is basic, and the way it manifests on stage does not vary enough over the hour long duration, and things become predictable towards its end.

Seeing Unseen gives our hearts and brains a good work out, leaving no place for feelings to hide, and no moment for the head to dull. The show is quiet but tense, and it lures you into its unusual explorations, sharing its passionate sense of wonder, but always holding back slightly and never explaining too much. If one is interested only in the moral of the story, there is frankly not a great deal to write home about, but understanding how this small team of artists turn energy, time and inspiration into a magical communal experience in an empty space, is terribly impressive. Art, like technology, is only meaningful when it moves forward, and on this occasion, the search for a new frontier has returned excellent results.

www.venue505.com/theatre

Review: The Anzac Project (Ensemble Theatre)

ensembleVenue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Apr 2 – May 10, 2015.
Playwrights: Geoffrey Atherden (Dear Mum And Dad), Vanessa Bates (Light Begins To Fade)
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Actors: Anita Hegh, Eric Beecroft, Amy Mathews, David Terry
Image by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
Sacred cows insist on their stories being told repeatedly. Communities ascribe reverential value to our heroes, and lest we forget, their narratives are rehashed and recounted time and time again. With each passing year and with each new conflict, our attitudes about war, soldiers and nationhood change, and how we discuss these icons might alter accordingly but in the case of Australia’s Anzac legend, its social significance is guarded by a fierce loyalty that keeps its myth exceptionally pristine.

Ensemble Theatre’s The Anzac Project is a centennial commemoration of the 1915 Battle of Gallipoli, an event deeply meaningful to many Australians. Comprised of two plays, Geoffrey Atherden’s Dear Mum And Dad and Vanessa Bates’ Light Begins To Fade, the production attempts a fresh look at the hundred year story, with both pieces featuring characters from 1915 and 2015, juxtaposing time and tide to find a new way to represent our relationship with that monumental event in World War I. Artistic and subtle use of abstraction gives the work a sense of sophistication, but Atherden’s more prominent reliance on building a conventional narrative around a soldier is emotionally engaging, while Bates’ more sceptical approach, is too muted for dramatic effect, even if it is conceptually seductive. Mark Kilmurry’s direction is always respectful of the subject at hand, but he finds many opportunities to bring colour and energy to prevent the production from plunging too deeply into sombreness. His skill at creating an active and vibrant stage is to be admired, and his cleverness and flair with tricky scene transitions must not be left unacknowledged.

The cast of four is passionate and lively, with David Terry’s exuberance often stealing the show. The actor’s playfulness delivers a host of surprises, along with cheeky laughs, to what could have been a predictable retelling of these old tales. Anita Hegh’s versatility comes into full view with her portrayal of seven characters, each with a distinctive flavour and individual authenticity. The performers are required to constantly shift between roles, and although executed well, it demands of the audience a concentration that should be spent on more nuanced aspects of the plays.

As long as young people are being sent off to fight, we will always look upon sacrifices of our military organisations as worthy. Today, we are wary of making any statement that might be interpreted as a glorification of war, but by the same token, we hang on to the belief that our soldiers must be honoured. The tension between good and evil in this case is rarely explored sufficiently, perhaps because this Pandora’s box is a taboo that can never be breached. Art has the ability to bring intellect into any space, and to suggest alternate methods of exploring conventional thought, but sometimes the level of courage needed to articulate the unspeakable and profoundly unpopular, is simply beyond the capacity of any single person.

www.ensemble.com.au