Review: Henry V (Bell Shakespeare)

bellshakespeareVenue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Oct 21 – Nov 15, 2014
Playwright: William Shakespeare
Director: Damien Ryan
Cast: Michael Sheasby, Matthew Backer, Drew Livingston, Damien Strouthos, Gabriel Fancourt, Eloise Winestock, Danielle King, Darcy Brown, Keith Agius, Ildiko Susany
Images by Michele Mossop

Theatre review
As the years pass, we become increasingly accustom to war being a fact of life. Wartime is no longer a set of specific and exceptional circumstances, especially with the proliferation of mass media and the normalisation of conflict as a topic of daily interest. Shakespeare’s Henry V includes the ambiguities and tensions between tragedy and heroism, but four centuries on, we seem no longer able to tell a story like this without letting casualties take centre stage.

Damien Ryan’s vision certainly reflects contemporary attitudes on the essential destructiveness of war. The injured and the dead are not obliterated from our sight, but are left critically present on stage to abate any hint of glory that might surface. The use of symbols and the visual lavishness of Ryan’s work is fiercely thoughtful, almost omnipresent. Space is explored to its creative limits, with the astonishingly dynamic use of bodies, sets and props to convey emotions and concepts. Ryan’s brand of theatre is captivating and exhilarating, but also undeniably sensitive and intelligent. His Henry V is complex but accessible, innovative but unpretentious. It aims to be a theatre for all, catering to aficionados, students and everyone else, encompassing every age and background. Shakespeare’s language is challenging for many, and the director works thoroughly to bring elucidation, although detractors are unlikely to have a change of heart with this text, which is probably one of Shakespeare’s more obscure pieces.

The production is visually beautiful, with accomplished and adventurous work from designers on all fronts. Anna Gardiner’s intricate set gives the stage an intimacy and provides performers with extensive possibilities for inventiveness. Gardiner’s costumes are not extravagant but accurately and astutely conceived, consistently effective in each character transformation and evolution. Sian James-Holland’s lighting design is one of the show’s main features. Her work is ambitious and powerful, at times conveying the plot more completely than other more tangible elements can manage. Also outstanding are music and sound designer Steve Francis’ achievements in his very specific control over atmospherics, and vocal composer Drew Livingston’s many charming and surprising songs accompanying the script.

Clearly, the performances are not the only stars of the show, but this is an undeniably excellent ensemble of actors. The chemistry they have found with each other, and in every scene, is exemplary. There is an athleticism to their creation, assisted by movement director Scott Witt, that is often breathtaking and marvelous to behold. The constant variation in tone and mood that they manufacture gives the production an extraordinarily textured feel. Keith Agius plays the more mature roles and is memorable for the depth of meaning he is able to bring to his lines. It is the gravity and an intensity that he puts into speeches that sets him apart. Matthew Backer shines with a distinct sense of humour that follows his assured presence, and his singing voice is quite sublime. The most vibrant actor will always leave an impression, and on this occasion, it is Damien Strouthos who wins us over with his agile, flamboyant and impossibly energetic approach.

It is clear that Shakespeare is revered internationally, but the universality of his writing is arguable. As societies become more aware of ethnic, gender and other differences in experience and background, it becomes less likely that any artist can claim to be relevant to everyone, but theatre is in a unique position of sheer proximity where it has the potential to move and touch, in a visceral manner. Shakespeare’s words might not always make sense, but what it gives birth to, is often blisteringly remarkable.

www.bellshakespeare.com.au

Review: Kryptonite (Sydney Theatre Company)

sydneytheatrecoVenue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Sep 11 – Oct 18, 2014
Playwright: Sue Smith
Director: Geordie Brookman
Cast: Ursula Mills, Tim Walter
Image by Lisa Tomasetti

Theatre review
Through an international love story, Sue Smith’s Kryptonite examines the relationship between the personal realm and our wider circumstances. When Lian first met Dylan at an Australian University in pre-Tiananmen 1989, she was a new immigrant from China and Dylan had looked every bit the quintessential middle class Australian preoccupied with surfing and student protests. Over the years, Lian returns to Dylan for a series of brief but dramatic encounters, and by 2014, they are almost entirely different people, and we question if the countries from which they emerge, have evolved correspondingly, into virtually unrecognisable entities.

Freedom, idealism and innocence are put through the wringer in Smith’s play, in which we witness the ravages of time on the beauty of youth. Growing old is a tragedy, but not because of the inevitable deterioration of flesh. It is what happens to the heart and soul as time wears on, not just for each person, but also for the worlds in which we dwell. We cannot travel back in time, and our nations will never revert to a purer state. Indeed, the past is painted as though through rose-coloured glasses, but it is a persuasive picture that Smith creates. In Kryptonite, the loss of our innocence is certain, and sad. Smith’s work is emotional and powerful, with a perspective of our recent histories that feels accurate and is deeply perceptive.

The character Lian is particularly well-written, with an authenticity in speech and sense of humour that is quite outstanding. Performed by the brilliantly astute Ursula Mills, the role becomes thoroughly familiar, even though realistic Chinese women are rarely seen on our stages. She is surprisingly funny, and her motivations in each sequence are concise, keeping us engaged with her storytelling in a plot that can be a little convoluted at times. Mills is required to speak and sing in Chinese languages over the course of the show, but proficiency is lacking although her conviction remains strong. There is an oversimplification in some of Lian’s darker moments, but the actor never fails to bring a delicious fire to the drama when required. Also captivating is Tim Walter who is yin to Mills’ yang. Chemistry between the two are not quite exceptional, but they find a harmonious balance that brings great elucidation to the play’s themes and concepts. Walter’s work is thoughtful and confident, but the lightness in his presence, while delightful for the younger Dylan, is a hindrance in several of his graver moments. His depiction of a jaded politician in his late forties is not entirely convincing, but as a young man confused and enchanted by the object of his affections, Walter is charmingly captivating.

Geordie Brookman’s direction retains the challenging nature of the plot’s non-chronological timeline, but provides a good sense of clarity to the narrative. He succeeds in manufacturing a believable romance out of a complex framework of dramatic shifts in time and spaces, but some of the script’s political details are subsumed by his emphasis on pace and rhythms. The show is an enjoyable one. Its scenes are dynamic and unpredictable, always introducing fresh elements to ensure a gripping experience. Design aspects are not greatly ambitious, but they help tell the story with efficiency and elegance.

Kryptonite talks about how we have changed as nations of people, but its views of China are more exacting than how it sees its own country. The Australian play shows the evolution of a foreign land through its distinct junctures of transformation, but it is less brutal with its self-reflection. Yet again, we find meaning through the definition of an other, but this time, we move focus from our perverse European obsession to a place closer to home. China is a significant trading partner, with an astronomical rise in recent times that sees its influence spread across the world, not only in monetary terms, but also cultural and social. The first officially recorded Chinese migrant arrived in 1818 and today, Australians with Asian heritage number at 2.4 million. While we still seem to avoid it like a comic hero avoids a mythical adversary, the importance of finding a way to articulate that experience and relationship is impossible to overstate.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Kill The PM (Unhappen)

unhappenVenue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Oct 8 – 26, 2014
Playwright: Fregmonto Stokes
Director: James Dalton
Cast: Nicholas Hiatt, Zoe Jensen, Michael McStay, Lily Newbury-Freeman
Image by Lucy Parakhina

Theatre review
We must not take our democracy for granted. It is a key element to meaningful lives, as it insists that every person and their liberties are included. The ideal is a world in which everyone has an equal say, even if we end up with a messy and inconvenient state of affairs, but today’s reality sees a grave inequality of power and influence. As Australia becomes increasingly capitalistic, previous notions of a classless society are quickly eroded, acquiescing to the dominance of the 1%. Our leaders are still democratically elected, but there is no camouflaging the fact that prevailing ideologies of government are disproportionately geared towards the benefit of the wealthiest. One person may still receive one vote, but our voices do not carry the same weight, and the loudest have proven themselves to be the most selfish.

Fregmonto Stokes’ Kill The PM is inspired by the fantasy of the masses, and begins with the most simplistic of ideas. The assassination of a leader is a proposition symptomatic of the disquiet that citizens experience, but the play does not indulge extensively in that premise. Instead, it explores the absurdity of the suggestion that the murder of one person is all the revolution that is required to cause an effective change in the way our nation carries on its business. Stokes’ writing has a sense of wildness that is dramatic and exciting, with surrealist aspects that keep us intrigued. There are unexpected ambiguities which make the script rich and thoughtful, but its narrative structure falters at certain junctures when a more poetic approach takes over. Stokes’ work is thought-provoking, but it has an uncomfortable gentleness that contradicts its powerful subject matter.

Direction of the piece by James Dalton suffers the same shortage of aggression. The characters are blinded by passion but what happens on stage is oddly subdued. The cast does not portray sufficient conviction for the story to take hold, and their relaxed disconnection from the plot (and each other) is frustrating. This is a story that should speak to anyone who is even remotely interested in politics, but none of the players manage to find points of resonances for the contentious issues being discussed.

Fortunately, the production shifts gears in the middle, giving up its unsuccessful naturalism for a spectacular theatricality in a series of dreamlike sequences. Dalton’s strengths with visual aesthetics and his talent at manipulating atmosphere rescue the show to some extent, although its core messages would benefit from greater elucidation. It is the formidable design team that shines in this production, with Dylan Tonkin’s set leaving the greatest impression, having given the venue an extreme transformation with daring innovation, excellent taste and a sophisticated flair. Benjamin Brockman’s lights are another highlight, cleverly adapting to the theatre’s unconventional facilities, and using gadgets that function charmingly as set pieces in addition to providing interesting illumination.

Kill The PM suggests that the elimination of any single person or group would not be advantageous, regardless of how blood thirsty our primitive selves can be. We see the importance of community in the process of affecting policy changes, but also the difficulties in locating ways that people can unite to find strength and commitment. Having a voice in any political climate is challenging, and it is only as collectives that we will be heard. The theatrical arts are fundamentally collaborative, and we must value the egalitarianism that allows individuals to come together to create and to speak. Regimes come and go, but art endures, and at the theatre, the subversive can find expression, and sometimes, have an impact.

www.unhappen.org

Review: Harvest (New Theatre)

newtheatre2Venue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Oct 7 – Nov 8, 2014
Playwright: Richard Bean
Director: Louise Fischer
Cast: Nick Bolton, Sarah Carroll, Alex Chalwell, Xavier Coy Peter Eyers, John Keightley, Dave Kirkham, Annie Schofield, Isabella Tannock, Abi Rayment, Benjamin Vickers, Bishanyia Vincent, Steve Vincent, Jeremy Waters
Photograph © Bob Seary

Theatre review (of a preview performance)
Nostalgia can be ineffectually sentimental, but in Richard Bean’s Harvest, it is a telescope through which some of our contemporary social concerns are examined. The Harrisons are farmers in Yorkshire of England, and through their evolution over the last century, the deterioration of community and drastic alterations of market forces come into sharp focus. There is a definite pining for the past in Bean’s text. Even the villains of yesteryear seem quaint by comparison. Modern developments of civilisations are obviously not completely deplorable, but the play does put forth convincing arguments that pay reverence to bygone notions of honour, and the debate it inspires on alternative modes of progress is interesting.

Direction by Louise Fischer provides dramatic poignancy with an earnest approach to the script’s political positions, but the production’s tone is uncomfortably subdued in its first act. Early scenes require greater levity and chemistry between actors to deliver bigger laughs before the play’s deeper meanings emerge. The show begins to take flight at the introduction of the character Titch, played with exuberant confidence by Benjamin Vickers. His broad style of comedy finds a delightful harmony with Bean’s writing, and he creates the most memorable of the host of supporting roles on stage.

Leading man Jeremy Waters impresses with a consistently charming and dynamic portrayal of a character who grows from very young to very old. His colourful and entertaining work is a reliable central focus of the production, with scenes working best when his colleagues are able to locate points of ignition with his talents. There are moments when Waters’ diction proves slightly challenging for the audience (partly due to the distinctive Yorkshire dialect), but the actor’s physical expressiveness discloses sufficient plot detail to compensate for the shortfall. The role of Laura has a similarly vast age range for actor Bishanyia Vincent to explore, and she certainly rises to that challenge, shining especially brilliantly at the older stages. Vincent’s presence is unassuming but solid, and she surprises with increasingly captivating instances of creativity as the plot unfolds, culminating in a surprisingly riveting final scene.

Bethany Sheehan’s set cleverly converts the vast stage into a more concentrated and intimate performance space, with a backdrop that helps with the cast’s volume levels. Transformations to reflect the passage of time are necessary but set changes can sometimes lack elegance, as do several entrances and exits that see actors venturing off the stage, and into the auditorium. Nevertheless, Fischer’s work as director is defined by the conviction and power she injects into the moral of the show’s story. Bean’s writing seems to glorify the good old days with a dose of convenient selective amnesia, but Fischer turns his concepts into thought-provoking characters and events that move us. It is true that we are always ready to abandon the old in favour of all that is shiny and new, and while obsolescence should be improved upon, we must always be careful to separate the archaic from that which is eternal. Nothing lasts forever but many things endure further than a single generation’s lifetime.

www.newtheatre.org.au

Review: Howie The Rookie (Red Line Productions / Strange Duck Productions / Sydney Independent Theatre Company)

redlineVenue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Sep 30 – Oct 25, 2014
Playwright: Mark O’Rowe
Director: Toby Schmitz
Cast: Sean Hawkins, Andrew Henry
Image by Kathy Luu

Theatre review
Howie and Rookie are two young Irish men who live epic nights and emerge to relay their experiences to anyone who would listen. They are base and depraved, with values a world away from the middle classes of theatre-land, yet their lack of pretension and extraordinary candour allow us to find identification with a shared essence of humanity. Their stories are terrifying and sickening, but they are never alien, for our instincts understand what it is to be like them, much as we spend our days fighting tooth and nail to create distance from their godforsaken universe. Mark O’Rowe’s script is a detailed look into a life driven by impulse and unaffected appetite, formed by two monologues written with a brand of poetry that is gritty and coarse, although irresistibly beautiful at many points. It is geezers doing lyricism, and art in its enemy’s territory.

Direction by Toby Schmitz delves into the psychology of his actors, to create characters that feel palpable and real, although both are highly theatrical in expression. A thorough authenticity is manufactured by instituting clarity in thought and intensity of emotion in the performers, which translates into wonderfully vivid storytelling and stunning performances. Schmitz reduces the stage into an exaggerated intimacy so that the only thing that matters is the cast.

Design aspects are extremely subtle, for they aim to disappear, but all elements contribute effectively to the power of the men’s dynamic presence. Lights by Alexander Berlage and sound by Jeremy Silver are sensitive and elegant, with many manoeuvres that are practically undetectable but crucial to atmosphere transformations. Stage manager Nicholas Foustellis executes these changes perfectly. Lisa Mimmocchi’s set and costume design takes a minimal approach but the vision she creates resonates with accuracy, even in its spacial abstraction.

Andrew Henry performs the first half of the piece in the role of Howie. He first addresses the audience out of character, with mundane information about mobile phones and emergency exits, using the opportunity to establish humour and a camaraderie that he brings into the play. Henry maintains eye contact with us throughout, insisting that we hear every word, and we do. The actor’s delivery in both physical and vocal terms is almost acrobatic in its agility. He is funny, outrageous and disturbing, always keeping us firmly in the palm of his hand, and the range of emotion he portrays can only be described as impressive. A major mood transition occurs at the end of his soliloquy that is absolutely breathtaking, and a must-see for any fan of the dramatic arts.

Also remarkable is Sean Hawkins, who takes on the latter half of the production as Rookie. Hawkins’ energy is vibrant and sprightly, providing a clever contrast to the darker Howie. Hawkins is a passionate raconteur who brings brilliant animation to his tales, and the stripes shaven into his temples to match his Adidas tracksuit, indicate the depth at which the actor has absorbed the text. Revealing all that the character believes and feels, Hawkins’ face is mesmerising. It tells us all that Rookie wishes to divulge, and then some. The performer lays bare an honesty that lets us read into a complex portrayal of what seems to be a simple existence.

Small theatre can refer to budgets, venue sizes, or the actual scope of content being produced. In the case of Howie The Rookie, it is the serendipitous meeting of all three that has created something sublime. More extravagant expenditure or auditorium capacity will not improve the colossal genius presented on this very special occasion.

www.sitco.net.au

Review: Brother Daniel (TAP Gallery)

brotherdanielVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 24 – Oct 5, 2014
Playwright: James Balian
Director: Travis Green
Cast: Vincent Andriano, David Attrill, Mel Dodge, Jeannie Gee, Adam Hatzimanolis, Errol Henderson, Richard Hilliar, Naomi Livingstone
Image by Mark Banks

Theatre review
James Balian’s Brother Daniel discusses the concepts of heroism and revolution. His work is dense and intellectual, but the ideas that he introduces into the play are vibrantly refreshing. We are made to examine our relationship with heroes, and that incessant need to turn narratives into tales of inspiration and motivation with headlining objects of worship. We elevate people into positions of sainthood and martyrdom, by obliterating the very qualities that bind us as the human race. We have a need to make real our abstract ideals so that aspirations can be formed and individuals or groups can find ways to progress. The betterment of society requires epitomes, but those examples of perfection can only exist in our imagination. Daniel is a legend in prison, and a revolution is taking place outside. The crowds are moved by the memory of Daniel’s legacy, but we are in his cell, witnessing an iconoclasm and the deconstruction of a national hero.

Although Travis Green manages to direct the play with an appropriate severity, there is a stasis to his style that prevents sufficient dramatic effect from taking shape on the stage. Balian’s wordy script proves a challenge, and the heavy reliance on dialogue with very minimal visual inventiveness is challenging for its audience. We need to understand the writing not only through our ears, but when in the theatrical space, our other faculties have to be equally addressed. It is noteworthy that sound design is a well considered element, efficiently adding a foreboding dimension to the atmosphere.

The cast is a strong one, bringing confident presence and polish to the production. Daniel is played by the effortlessly enigmatic Adam Hatzimanolis whose committed performance grounds the show. His interpretation of the personality’s ambiguity is beautifully presented, and he adds to his scenes, a powerful intensity that leaves an excellent impression. The play features several roles that feel too surface, mainly due to their brief stage time, but Daniel is dimensioned and unpredictable, with a depth that is crucial for a central character.

We are not told where the action takes place, but our minds go to the current demonstrations in Hong Kong, where civilians are taking to the streets in protest of their totalitarian government. Revolution is bold, and Brother Daniel is at heart, a bold piece of writing, but what transpires on stage needs an approach closer to anarchy.

www.tapgallery.org.au

Review: Rizzy’s 18th Birthday Party (Curiousworks)

curiousworksVenue: Carriageworks (Eveleigh NSW), Oct 1 – 4, 2014
Screenplay: S. Shakthidharan, G. Gonzalez
Director: S. Shakthidharan
Cast: Varun Fernando, Firdaws Adelpour, Henry Vo, Jamie Meyer-Williams, Patrick Uly, Sophie Hawkshaw, Anandavalli

Film review
The film is projected with incidental music performed live by two-person band Kurinji whose vocalist Aimée Falzon recalls the singing of Sarah McLachlan and Róisín Murphy. The band provides an ethereal start to the night, but the film is more earthy in tone. Set in the recent past, just before 9-11 had changed the world, it features a cast of multiracial characters, which stands distinct because it is a rare representation of our daily Australian realities. It is not a vision we often see on screens, but the diversity looks entirely natural, making a strong political case against the persistent ethnocentrism of Caucasian faces in our media landscape.

The story is a curious one about the anxiety that young people of Western Sydney experience. It showcases rarely articulated societal concerns through Rizzy, who pretends to be a resident of the affluent suburb of Crows Nest, where he is in fact, a member of the working classes in the stigmatised Fairfield region. He is aspirational but perhaps for the wrong reasons. The film makes an effort to contradict Rizzy’s belief that his background is inferior by depicting great friendships and colourful environs, but it results in a very alienating protagonist. We never reach any meaningful understanding of his feelings, so the film remains distant. Its insistence on focusing only on young men, and having women characters exist at its periphery, further restricts its ability to find relevancy with wider audiences.

It is a strong cast, carefully directed by S. Shakthidharan who retains the rawness of the young actors, while drawing good commitment in their performances. Anandavalli plays Rizzy’s mother Helen, with a beautiful sensitivity that moves us with her minimal but authentic approach. It is unfortunate that her role is a deeply subservient one, but the actor’s work is the film’s standout element. Leading man Varun Fernando is less accomplished, but his comic abilities provide some entertainment value in lighter sections. The young men are a group with excellent chemistry that gives energy to many of the earlier scenes, and the film suffers as attention is shifted away from them as the plot progresses.

The work has issues with pace and structure that prevents tension from building satisfactorily. Also, the stakes in the narrative are never high, so we do not respond with much excitement. Rizzy’s 18th Birthday Party is a quiet and earnest movie that attempts to provide a voice to a segment in our community that is not often heard, but it needs to amplify its assertions in volume and in poignancy if it wishes to leave a greater impression.

www.curiousworks.com.au

Review: The Glass Menagerie (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Sep 20 – Nov 2, 2014
Playwright: Tennessee Williams
Director: Eamon Flack
Cast: Harry Greenwood, Luke Mullins, Pamela Rabe, Rose Riley
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review (originally published at Auditorium Magazine)
Tennessee Williams refers to The Glass Menagerie as a memory play. The work is semi-autobiographical, inspired by events, people and recollections from his own life. The making of art often involves the search for an understanding of the artists’ self and their immediate environment, through the expression of subjects that are familiar and intimate. Williams’ story examines the home life he had shared with an overbearing mother and a “crippled” sister. Seventy years have past since its initial staging, but their life together remains intriguing and poignant, covering timeless and universal themes that resonate with audiences today the world over. Film adaptations from India and Iran in the last decade demonstrate the wide appeal of the play’s premise and characters.

Williams’ language is romantically evocative of the American South in the 1930s, with old fashioned values that seem quaint and charming to our modern sensibilities, but that same regressiveness in attitude can prove to be harmful, as witnessed in the Wingfield family’s tribulations. Amanda has a definite, and narrow, view of the world and expects her children’s adherence to her every imagined obligation to society. It is a small mind that rules the household, and its painful repercussions are felt by all its members, including the matriarch herself. Eamon Flack’s direction is punctuated by inventive touches, but it is his effective exploration of the original’s concepts that strikes a chord.

A key feature of the production involves two large screens flanking the set, and several video cameras on tripods positioned on the periphery of the stage. Close ups of live action are periodically projected in black and white, shifting the audience between modes of theatre and cinema. This mechanism is slightly gimmicky, but it enriches the viewing experience by allowing an intrusion into more private spaces. Sean Bacon’s work on video design manages to bring elegance to the technology, finding a beautiful balance between stage and screen, rarely causing conflict or confusion for our eyes. Flack’s decision to have faces enlarged for our viewing pleasure enhances emotion and empathy for the piece, but it also brings into doubt the strength of performances that require that augmentation.

Also intensified in Flack’s direction is Tom Wingfield’s homosexuality. Before Williams’ lines are able to reveal the source of Tom’s disquiet, we observe from the very beginning, actor Luke Mullins’ purposeful flamboyance eagerly presenting an image of repressed and hidden gayness. The negation of that obsolete taboo inherent in the text, is an interesting and politically appropriate move for our times, and we are glad to see Tom, our narrator, approach us with fresh honesty. In terms of dramatic structure however, the build up of frustration and tension resulting from his gradual and inevitable disclosures is thus omitted.

Mullins is delightfully spirited in the role. He finds many opportunities for playfulness that helps maintain an electric atmosphere, regardless of moods being portrayed. The staidness of his home is placed alongside a confident showmanship that ensures entertainment in spite of the play’s many grim turns. Within the script’s shrewd treatment of secret sexuality, Mullins exercises a surprising range of nuance that conveys as much as Williams had tried to conceal.

The role of Amanda, the Wingfield mother and faded Southern belle, is played by Pamela Rabe who excels at locating authenticity in a highly dramatised character. Obsessive concern becomes comprehensible in Rabe’s depiction, thereby giving the tale its emotion and meaning. The woman’s severity leads to her own anguish, both qualities delivered by the actor with firm conviction. Amanda’s neurosis is strangely subdued at the play’s early stages, which slightly dampens the drama surrounding family dynamics, but when her hysteria sets in, its theatrical effects are quite wonderful.

Rose Riley’s interpretation of Laura is a fascinating one. Her family believes her to be disabled, but we do not see much evidence for it. The ambiguity surrounding Laura’s impairment sheds light on the changes in attitude over time that societies hold for notions of health and normalcy. Riley puts on an intense but introspective performance and her best moments occur when the camera catches her face in tight shots, revealing very strong and genuine outpouring of emotion. She is the perfect counterpoint to the loudness of her mother and brother, but a lengthy scene with a romantic interest Jim (Harry Greenwood) is unduly quiet and both actors’ subtlety leaves a blemish on an otherwise dexterously paced show.

Set design by Michael Hankin manufactures a sense of claustrophobia with the very small Wingfield home. An unbearable pressure exists together with their poverty, and their dysfunction becomes logical. The aesthetics of the production is fairly muted, with an emphasis on accuracy over theatricality, but Damien Cooper finds opportunities with his lighting design to implement instances of creative flair that add sensual and shifting textures to the plot.

Tom, like his father and his author, escapes oppression in search of a greater truth. The most significant of America’s patriotic qualities is freedom, and The Glass Menagerie gifts us a portrait of its opposite. Enslaved by archaic beliefs and antiquated values, the play’s characters endure a continuance of suffering and painful delusion. Today, the story looks to be a relic of a bygone era, but in fact, that same denial of liberty persists in our personal and social spheres, albeit in insidiousness. The play’s optimistic conclusion sees Tom taking action to remove his psychological shackles. The act seems at once desperately painful, and plainly simple.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: The Matilda Waltz (New Theatre)

newtheatreVenue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Sep 19 – 27, 2014
Director: Sam Thomas
Playwright: Deborah Mulhall
Cast: James Bean, Adrian Adam, Carla Nirella, Morgan Powell, Michael Sutherland, Sonja Donohoe, Adam Gray, Katrina Rautenberg, Roberto Zenca

Theatre review
The Matilda Waltz is the story of five generations of women in Australia, commencing with siblings Vera and Ida Templeton in 1894. We follow a series of their love lives, which all result in daughters being born (yes, they are all heterosexual and, spoiler alert, they all choose Caucasian husbands). The play is narrated by icons of Australian-European literature and fine art, Banjo Paterson and Russel Drysdale, but it is unclear how much of the piece is a work of fiction. The women are not weak characters, they all have purpose and some even display ambition, but Deborah Mulhall’s writing defines each of them against the men who they chance upon. Romance and reproduction is big with the Templeton ladies, it seems, but in the space of a hundred years, they do not come in contact with any indigenous characters or later migrants from non-European regions. We do however, see one of the women venture into “Nam” to almost get killed by the Viet Cong.

It can be frustrating watching actors play different roles and not realising that fact until several scenes later. Chronology in much of the first half is also unclear. Sam Thomas’ direction is not without flair, but important details are neglected, which makes for a confusing experience. Fortunately, there is good work to be found in the revelation of each narrative that unfolds. Characters are not explored with much depth (the play is abridged for the Sydney Fringe schedule), but they are interesting and quite colourful. Virtually every scene features two characters in dialogue, and Thomas creates good chemistry on the stage between all cast members.

The actors are attractive and committed, but the script does not offer them enough to exhibit great skill or talent. The young men of the cast are utilised like boxed up Ken dolls, all gorgeous to look at but without space to flex their acting muscles. We only get to see powerful emotions from a couple of the women but those moments are so fleeting, they seem almost frivolous. Carla Nirella is animated and humorous as the uptight Ida, providing some laughs in the early sequences. Also charming is Sonja Donohoe who manages to find some range and subtlety in her scenes. Adrian Adam plays Drysdale and the American diplomat Richard with a confident presence, and he works hard to bring some fire to the production.

Encapsulating a century into 70 minutes is challenging. To create short stories out of entire lifetimes is not meaningless, but requires greater imagination and innovation. Australia’s recorded history is by some accounts, the longest in the world and we have much to choose from, and our persistent obsession with the recent European settlement needs to subside.

www.newtheatre.org.au

Review: 4 Sydney Fringe Shows (PACT)

pactfringeVenue: PACT (Erskineville NSW), Sep 24 – 27, 2014
Images by PACT

All The Single Lad(ie)s
Company: The Cutting Room Floor
Writer: Zoe Hollyoak
Director: Scott Corbett
Cast: Braiden Dunn, Verity Softly, Jack Walker
www.tcrftheatre.com

Fire Twirling
Company: Circaholics Anonymous
www.circaholicsanonymous.com

Him
Devisor: Coleman Grehan
Cast: Coleman Grehan
www.facebook.com/colemangrehan

Bodyscapes
Composer: Mary Mainsbridge
www.deprogram.net

Theatre review
The night begins with All The Single Lad(ie)s, a play about gender politics, featuring a woman and a man in a BDSM fantasy scenario that turns sour, with interludes by a drag queen Tammy Packs who gives lectures on gender in between performing the greatest hits of Beyoncé Knowles. The production and its concepts lack complexity, but actor Verity Softly’s performance is committed and energetic. The production discusses the futility of a feminism that wishes to usurp debates about gender and sex, and explores the meaning of power and consent against the backdrop of a scenario extrapolating sexual domination and rape. Its perspective is aggressive but feels one-sided and therefore, a little convenient.

In the courtyard outside, members of Circaholics Anonymous perform a series of stunts and sequences featuring the art of fire twirling. There is a power to the flames that affects the crowd on a visceral level, beyond the visual. The team present many thrilling moments where the act gets too close to danger, eliciting cheers and yelps from its audience. The show does not have a strong sense of narrative, and things can feel repetitive at times, but there is a hypnotic quality to their performance that can prove captivating especially for the very young. The cast needs to find greater charisma to allow us to connect with their personalities, but they are well-trained and energetic. Their amazing skills do not fail to impress.

Coleman Grehan’s Him is a performance art / dance piece inspired by the Japanese Butoh discipline. Grehan uses his body, saliva and paint to illustrate human emotion and experience. Beautiful moments involving audience members painting directly onto Grehan’s body are impossibly tender and poignant, proving the efficacy of visual and time-based art over the use of words in representing humanity. Music is integral to the magic of the piece, and while they are not created specifically for the presentation, each track is selected with great sensitivity and circumspection.

Bodyscapes features Mary Mainbridge with cords hanging off her clothing, singing and dancing behind a translucent screen. Her body is used to operate “a movement-controlled instrument called the Telechord”, and computer graphic imagery is projected onto the screen that keeps her partially obscured. The visuals are fascinating, and confusing. To the side of the space is another screen displaying a different set of image projections, and three men in collaboration, illuminated only by their computer monitors. The synergy of technology and human is wonderful to observe, and Mainbridge’s brand of intelligent dance music is simultaneously ethereal and sophisticated.

The temporary division of the PACT space into three small studios is very well conceived. The program is at its strongest when there is a focus on the avant garde, and on this occasion, the intimacy of the tiny black boxes are perfectly suited to each unconventional production. In its 50th year, the centre for emerging artists remains a vital part of our artistic landscape.

www.pact.net.au