Review: The Sheds (New Theatre)

theshedsVenue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Sep 17 – 21, 2014
Director: James Cunningham
Playwright: James Cunningham
Cast: Patrick Chirico, Ludwik Exposto, Andii Mulders

Theatre review
James Cunningham’s The Sheds begins when an AFL player Darren Anderson decides to reveal his homosexuality to his team and the public. It is not about the experience of being in the closet, but what happens after one decides to come out in an almost entirely male environment. Cunningham’s concepts for the play are strong. The tensions between the sporting industry and the very rare occurrences of fracture in its overwhelming heteronormativity are fertile ground for exploration, and indeed an area that our society needs to examine more closely. It is also a credit to the script that Anderson is portrayed as a liberated personality, without emphasis on his struggles, thus preventing the context from being dated and banal. Anderson’s character is paralleled by his friend and colleague Jimmy Davis, who has his own secrets, and the narrative is made substantial by Davis’ repression and its subsequent dramatic consequences.

Unfortunately, execution of Cunningham’s concepts are disappointing. His script is too obvious and plain, with unimaginative dialogue that feels compelled to tell too much, as though it is playing to a radio audience. Speech patterns for each of its three characters do not seem to vary. The way language is used does not sufficiently relay the differences in background and personalities. We appreciate that they are close compatriots who play for the same team, but the story requires a more distinct style of conversation for each character. Cunningham’s direction tries to create movement for the stage, but it can feel superfluous at times. There is a lot of pacing around, and changing of clothing, as though the actors are unable to deliver their lines without being told what to do with their hands. Transitions between scenes are handled without finesse. The actors often leave the stage, only to walk back in, a quick moment later. The passage of time can be conveyed more creatively than simply providing exits and entrances.

The cast is a good-looking one that represents a contemporary multi-ethnicity. The men are all athletic, which makes their depiction of the sporting space convincing, and while their instances of full-frontal nudity can seem a little gratuitous and distracting, it is nonetheless pleasurable to watch. The acting is not strong, with stilted performances and poor diction that make the plot a challenge to follow, but their energy levels are generally buoyant and there is a good level of enthusiasm that fills a lot of the show’s fifty minutes.

There is an urgent need for diversity in Australian theatre, and The Sheds makes a contribution. It talks of ethnicity, sexuality and mateship in a way that is fresh and timely. Cunningham’s voice is unseasoned, but it is a necessary one. We do not expect success to come out of every experimentation, but it is the courage to try that will always impress.

www.facebook.com/theshedsplay

Review: This Is Our Youth (The Kings Collective)

thekingscollectiveVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 16 – 21, 2014
Writer: Kenneth Lonergan
Director: Dan Eady
Cast: Joshua Brennan, Scott Lee, Georgia Scott
Image by Kate Williams Photography

Theatre review
Not all stories are universal. There will be characters we are interested in, and others that we do not give two hoots about. Kenneth Lonergan’s This Is Our Youth is a lamentation of sorts about spoilt rich kids. It is concerned with the neglected offspring of wealthy baby boomers, providing a perspective of new money in 1980’s Manhattan and the repercussions on its subsequent generation. Lonergan’s script is full of mischief and energy, but embodies the pointlessness of the characters it portrays. Their lives are lost, frivolous and sordid. Everything is dazed and confused, but the writing provides a rich and colourful inventory of drama and jokes for an electrifying work of theatre, and this is what The Kings Collective delivers.

The cast is extraordinary. Three young actors, sublime as a group but individually sensational, give a performance that is quite literally flawless. They all make bold choices that delight and surprise us, but are always thoughtful and sensitive to the creation of depth in their characters. We are enthralled by the dynamism in their work but never lose sight of contexts and circumstances. Joshua Brennan is Dennis, the misguided alpha male, whose bravado, anger and aggression are the only things getting him through life that do not come in small self-sealing plastic bags. Brennan’s range begins at bombastic, and then escalates further. His work is outrageously flamboyant but completely engaging, and one is able to sense a lot of substance behind his delicious madness. The material gives him many opportunities for comedy and he executes them brilliantly, but poignant moments at the end are slightly less effective even though his portrayal continues to be convincing.

Georgia Scott transforms the supporting role of Jessica into a memorable one. She fools us with a Barbie-esque appearance and surreptitiously shifts the play into intellectual gear. Scott brings a palpable complexity with strength, humour and tenderness, creating an authentic sentimentality that gives the production its humanistic aspect. Her romantic scenes with Warren are beautiful and real, allowing the play to speak compassionately, albeit fleetingly. The feminine voice is only secondary in the play, but Scott’s work is disproportionately impressive.

Warren is a clever young man who suffers from a lack of confidence and direction. He allows his father and friends to dominate him, and seeks refuge in drugs to silence his intelligence. Scott Lee’s moving depiction of that impotency gives the play its weight, and his comedic flair sets the tone of the production. Lee’s phenomenal chemistry with both colleagues shows an openness in approach that gives theatre its sizzle, and every second is kept lively by his marvelous commitment and presence.

Direction of the piece by Dan Eady ensures excellent entertainment and precise storytelling, without an instance of misplaced focus or loss of energy. This is the tightest of ships that any captain can hope to deploy. Audiences will laugh, be touched, and be provoked into thought, but the play’s social message is not a particularly potent one. It is hard to summon up any empathy for the very rich, even if they are innocent young adults. This Is Our Youth is thrilling and amusing, and while it does have some depth, they can be tenuous. Fortunately, theatre is about the craft as much as it is about meanings, and on this occasion, the artists are alchemists that have turned lead into gold.

www.thekingscollective.com.au

Review: Procne & Tereus (Montague Basement)

montaguebasementVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 16 – 20, 2014
Director: Saro Lusty-Cavallari
Playwright: Saro Lusty-Cavallari
Cast: Christian Byers, Lucinda Howes, Victoria Zerbst

Theatre review
Philomela visits her sister Procne’s home. Procne and her boyfriend Tereus are only a little older but their lives seem a world away from Philomela’s university student existence. The couple is expecting a child, but Tereus is more interested in the wine. He enjoys the intoxication and likes the way its price tag makes him look. The play begins in a space of middle-class ordinariness, but like in many middle-class spaces, there is an insidious deluge of quiet anxiety. Not enough happens to write home about, but its inanity gradually wears you down into sickness. In Procne & Tereus, we associate that anxiety with early adulthood, and a sense of being at crossroads, always wondering what that crucial next step holds. The young cast play older characters, and we see our frightening reflection in their portrayal of innocence lost.

Saro Lusty-Cavallari’s script is simple but poignant. His love for the art of inference makes that which is not being said, speak louder. His direction is even more accomplished, with a brave and adventurous spirit that emerges alongside thoughtfulness and subtlety. Not all manoeuvres are elegant, but there is always clarity in intent and a theatrical flair that feels natural yet purposeful. Lusty-Cavallari’s work is conceived with complexity, but his execution is articulate and concise. His talent is real, and its development is incredibly exciting.

Tereus is played by Christian Byers who deceives us with a surface of frivolity. His darkness within is almost completely hidden but Byers drops hints of malice that unnerve with a dangerous delight. It is a relaxed performance, sometimes silly in tone, but there is an impressive measuredness that accompanies his exaggerated nonchalance. Lucinda Howes as Procne, brings realism to the production with a restrained and minimalist approach that is strangely engaging, but her energy levels can read a little muted at times. Victoria Zerbst’s commitment to the role of Philomela is spine-tingling, and her presence shines through when performing the more surreal sections of the play.

Lighting by Eunice Huang and sound by Lusty-Cavallari and Byers, are key features of the production. Atmosphere is shaped and varied beautifully, contributing substantially to the narrative’s coherence. This Greek tragedy leaves us at a satisfying, albeit apocalyptic end. It relates marriage and family to questions about gender and sex. The story is grim because it is about our taboos. It shows us some of our greatest fears, and warns us about our unexamined but commonly-held beliefs. It leaves us nowhere to hide because its truths prevail.

www.montaguebasement.com

Review: Jennifer Forever (Two Peas)

twopeas1Venue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Sep 17 – 28, 2014
Playwright: Tara Clark
Director: Tara Clark
Cast: Dominic McDonald, Gemma Scoble

Theatre review
Note: This review reveals a key plot twist.

The play begins with ambiguity, danger and tension. Our minds and emotions struggle with meanings and morals, trying to form a narrative while jostling for head space with our own senses of right and wrong, theatrical representations and social acceptability. The work is about sexual predators, sex work and the way sex is used to construct perspectives of the world and the way we live in it. These ideas are best enjoyed in an air of uncertainty, instability and disquiet. When Tara Clark’s Jennifer Forever is provocative, it has a fierce and unsettling energy, but when it dissolves into a more assertive political position, its arguments lose their edge to become more conventional.

The strength of Clark’s writing lies in its passionate dialogue and the textured characters it presents. Fiery and thought-provoking confrontations between Man and Girl are used to great dramatic effect by Clark’s own direction. Playing Girl is Gemma Scoble who attacks her counterpart with a sadistic glee. She performs Girl’s two age brackets convincingly but can sometimes be too surface in her approach. She is persuasive as a figure of power and aggression but moments of vulnerability are not as compelling. Dominic McDonald’s performance as Man is impressive in its complexity. He makes the role despicable, intriguing and palpable, with an ability to find qualities that are universal to the human experience. McDonald has a sensitivity that allows us to connect with the daunting character that he portrays, and the several stages of transformation he performs is gripping entertainment.

For several scenes, Man addresses the audience directly in a series of lectures, but it is not just this element that makes the play feel excessively didactic. Clark has a clear message she wishes to relay, and her voice is unapologetic and direct. The story quickly subsides and we witness intense quarrels about the main themes of the text. The characters give way to the big ideas that take centre stage, but what remains becomes too simple and obvious in comparison. Jennifer Forever‘s timely look at paedophelia is honest and refreshing. It reflects our contemporary concerns and even though its theatrical effectiveness waivers, it addresses our need for discussion on the topics. We are at the precipice of a disintegrating taboo and achieving a greater understanding that will protect and heal is crucial.

www.thetwopeas.com

Review: Other Desert Cities (Ensemble Theatre)

ensembletheatreVenue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Sep 4 – Oct 18, 2014.
Playwright: Jon Robin Baitz
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Lisa Gormley, Deborah Kennedy, Diana McLean, Stephen Multari, Ken Shorter

Theatre review
It is Christmas time and we visit the home of an older Californian couple, both prominent figures from the right wing of politics. Polly and Lyman Wyeth are not always politically correct, but their self awareness gives them an air of relaxed charm. Their children Brook and Trip have arrived for the festivities, but we soon discover that all is not well. Brook is set to publish a tell-all memoir and takes the opportunity to reveal the book to her family. Jon Robin Baitz’s Other Desert Cities, is a tale about the damage our closest ones inflict upon us, family secrets, and the stories we dream up in place of missing pieces. We keep the truth from one another because we think that people need to be protected, and also because of shame. We can choose our friends, and run away from them when intimate revelations become problematic, but family ties are hard to break, so we keep the peace, by perpetuating lies.

Baitz’s script is classically structured. It is amusing, gripping and surprising, with the potential to be incredibly moving. Its themes of family disintegration, mental illness, regret and guilt are all loaded with sentimentality, and when handled well, could be heartbreaking. Mark Kilmurry’s direction brings out the dramatic conflicts of the story with some success, but tension does not build up sufficiently. It is an energetic show, with good amounts of shouting and crying, but the plot does not always engage. The cast seems to be discordant, each finding separate emphases, and their chemistry does not quite convince.

Lisa Gormley invests heavily into her character’s depression and her torment is clear to see. Her early scenes before confrontations begin, feel forced and inauthentic, but her work in the second act is the show’s saving grace. Ken Shorter’s naturalism is a joy to watch. His presence is genuine and strong, but he brings a warmth to the role that does not always serve the narrative well.

Ailsa Paterson’s set design confines the Wyeths in the 1970s. Their home is dated, and we see that they have not moved on for over twenty years. We live the consequences of our decisions, good or bad. There is no assurance that doing the right thing would lead to brighter days, but the Wyeths’ story gives hope that resolutions can be found if you try hard enough.

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: Children Of The Sun (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Sep 8 – Oct 25, 2014
Playwright: Maxim Gorky (adapted by Andrew Upton)
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Valerie Bader, James Bell, Justine Clarke, Yure Covich, Jay Laga’aia, Jacqueline McKenzie, Hamish Michael, Julia Ohannessian, Chris Ryan, Helen Thomson, Contessa Treffone, Toby Truslove
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review (originally published at Auditorium Magazine)
In Andrew Upton’s adaptation of Maxim Gorky’s Children Of The Sun, 12 characters of distinct and diverse personalities intermingle in the privileged Protasov household, each with their own sets of concerns and each holding world views that struggle to find cohesion and alliance. Written in 1905, but set 50 years earlier, Gorky’s play looks to the past in order that we may speak of the now. Created at a time of great political and social unrest, a fictional history was used to illustrate the disquiet of the day. The work is about the anxieties and uncertainties inherent in the process of revolution, and the troubling consequences of fragmentation in communities. In our age of technological modernity, we relate instinctively to its theme of individualistic narcissism, and the increasingly fracturing nature of our local and world affairs allows us to empathise with the writer’s angst and trepidation in the face of social upheaval.

The disharmony of relationships is strikingly enhanced in Upton’s version. Its farcical comedy is relentlessly witty and often surprisingly clever, but always subservient to the greater tension of unrest that gradually unfolds. The language we hear is modern, almost colloquially Australian, which not only makes for sharper punchlines, but also allows us to readily identify personality archetypes and status structures. The disconnect between the household’s apolitical characters and the political movement that intensifies on the outside is fascinating to observe. Upton’s dialogue portrays the insularity of daily life, with the characters unknowingly providing reverberations for a larger context. It is classic social commentary that seems immortal, because its necessity never seems to diminish.

Kip Williams’ marvelous direction of the piece works with all the nuances and philosophies of the script to deliver an irresistible production that is both entertaining and thought-provoking. Every character is intriguing and authentic, and Williams injects in each a dimension of dignity, refusing to make convenient fools of anyone. Herein lies the poignancy of work. The range of personalities is diverse, and even though we are unable to identify with everyone, we recognise the humanity in all of them. The vulnerability that they display is familiar, which means that the danger they encounter rings true for us.

Williams achieves a deliciously precarious balance between comedy and drama, effectively vacillating between frivolity and severity throughout the production. It is an intensely engaging show that manipulates our responses almost at will. There is an unpredictability to its plot that takes us off the beaten track and rejects our expectations, but it always enthralls our senses. Its rhythm is perfectly orchestrated in collaboration with our fluctuating emotions, and we become utterly lost in all its trials and tribulations.

Giving the narrative an impressive clarity is its extremely colourful and dynamic cast, many of whom exhibit extraordinary theatrical abilities that look very much like genius. Helen Thomson gives an unforgettable performance as Melaniya, a blundering seductress whose desperation is matched only by her beauty. Thomson’s work is precise and studied, but her instinctive timing creates a deceptive sense of spontaneity. Hilarious, playful, and larger than life, her every entrance is commanding and powerful. Thomson finds comedy in unexpected places, making us laugh while leaving us stupefied at the magnitude of her talents. Even more flamboyant is Hamish Michael, who is delightfully hammy as the painter Dimitri. His humour is unfettered and extravagant, always keen to highlight the vacuous pretensions of his role. Michael relishes the opportunity to play jester, with a wildness to his performance that is certainly amusing, and absolutely suited to the grand scale of the venue.

Pavel is the childlike patriarch, whose devotion to science renders him feckless in all other areas. Toby Truslove embodies the character’s eccentricity perfectly. The actor is slightly betrayed by his youthful appearance but his use of voice and physicality is very well-considered. Truslove’s ability to aggrandise what is basically an introspective personality helps establish Pavel as the charming man who finds himself the object of two women’s affections. Pavel’s sister Liza is his opposite. She is a creature of intuition and emotion, whose ill health is a symbolic manifestation of all the worries she carries for the world. Actor Jacqueline McKenzie is sensitive, elegant and tremendously affecting in the role. She demonstrates excellent range and an acute intellect that carves out the most intricate character on this stage.

Production design is restrained but highly evocative. David Fleischer’s big revolving stage holds several minimal structures that demarcate spaces, but all are in full view for the duration. The aesthetic is modern, but its sentiment is traditional. Significant plot devices like rain and fire are introduced gently, without causing a distraction from the story. Costumes and props are beautifully coordinated, with a sense of historical accuracy. Time and space is manufactured efficiently with minimal fuss, but every moment looks harmonious and beautiful.

This production of Children Of The Sun gives theatre lovers everything their hearts desire. It entertains, educates and thrills us, and it gives us so much to admire in the talent and skills that it showcases, but it does not provide answers to its own pressing questions. It is a quietly controversial work that makes statements about community, equity and political action. It makes us recognise the importance of social advancement, but seeks not to be divisive. It leaves with us a plea for progress and perhaps a yearning for a new revolution, but it relies on our own benevolence and intelligence to find a way.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Out Of Gas On Lovers Leap (The Kings Collective)

thekingscollectiveVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 9 – 14, 2014
Writer: Mark St. Germain
Director: Grace Victoria
Cast: David Harrison, Cecelia Peters
Image by Kate Williams Photography

Theatre review
USA in the 1980s was a time of great prosperity, when greed was good and the pursuit of riches seemed the only valid way of life. The pragmatism of money encouraged the dismantling of family units, and children grew up in the care of hired help, while parents explored possibilities in thriving economies. Mark St. Germain’s Out Of Gas On Lovers Leap is a lamentation that looks at two high school sweethearts, Myst and Grouper. Both characters are created with excellent depth and their backgrounds thoroughly elucidated. The script is dark and dangerous, with the aimless and misguided teenage couple discussing confronting subjects like abortion and suicide, and indulging in sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll before our eyes.

The play is about the gravity in these young lives, but Grace Victoria’s direction allows too much frivolity. The production is entertaining, and extremely high energy, but the dark nuances of the text is often lost. We hear the disturbing details of the dialogue but they do not resonate with a sense of urgency and tension. The cast is vibrant and enthusiastic, but they are not given enough instruction and the deeper social connotations of the story are sacrificed for a lot of clamour and amusement.

Cecelia Peters plays Myst, the talented daughter of a pop music celebrity. Peters’ fervour for comedy keeps the show buoyant, and she pushes effectively to create a sense of excitement. Her emotions are intensely portrayed, but not always appropriately so. The role of her boyfriend Grouper is performed by David Harrison, who is equally effervescent. There is a focus to his work that gives it a sense of polish, and he forms a complementary team with Peters, even if sexual chemistry between the two is a little lacking.

Entertainment is an important factor in assessing a theatrical work’s efficacy, and in the case of Out Of Gas On Lovers Leap, its cast does well at keeping us engaged. Not everything on stage needs to have poignancy and profundity but Mark St. Germain’s script requires a treatment that is more sensitive. The message is a serious one, and it needs to be presented with greater severity. The production concludes well, with Peters and Harrison showing wonderful commitment in the final scene, although a change in tone does occur suddenly. It is now thirty years after that fateful night at Lovers Leap, and Generation X is in its middle age, bringing up its own children. The circle of life may be perpetual, but questions relating to the heredity of emotional and psychological damage become increasingly relevant.

www.thekingscollective.com.au

Review: The Chosen (Moira Blumenthal Productions / Encounters@Shalom)

thechosenVenue: Shalom College (Kensington NSW), Aug 27 – Sep 14, 2014
Writer: Aaron Posner, Chaim Potok (from the novel by Chaim Potok)
Director: Moira Blumenthal
Cast: Anthony Darvall, Barry French, Gabriel McCarthy, Daniel Mitchell, Maeliosa Stafford
Image by Geoff Sirmai

Theatre review
The Chosen is the stage adaptation of a well-known 1967 novel of the same name. It features the friendship between two religious teenage boys in Brooklyn, New York. Reuven is a Modern Orthodox Jew and Danny is a Hasidic Jew, and the play showcases their differences wonderfully. Set against World War II and the subsequent revelation of the Holocaust in Europe, this coming of age story is a sentimental, and at times powerful, look at faith, family and friendship.

The script is eventful, with colourful characters and spirited dialogue. Moira Blumenthal’s direction creates distinct personalities that tell their tales with delightful clarity. There is a palpability that feels almost biographical, and along with it, an appealing gravity that keeps us engaged. A particular strength of Blumenthal’s is the seamlessness at which scene transitions are managed. Her use of space and actor positioning is full of flair in the negotiation of the script’s many short sections.

Performances are accomplished, although older members of the cast are quite noticeably stronger. The two young men are comparatively (and understandably) green, but both Gabriel McCarthy and Anthony Darvall show excellent commitment and focus. Daniel Mitchell as Reb Saunders, the spiritual leader of a Hasidic group is especially captivating. The role is a severe one, and Mitchell brings to it a pronounced sense of drama that makes for exhilarant viewing. The actor’s outstanding presence encompasses experience and confidence that lights up the stage.

Stage design is basic, but its elevation helps improve perspectives in a challenging venue. More ambitious is Alistair Wallace’s sound design, which helps manufacture a sense of time and place with creative use of music and effects.

There is a big emphasis on the father-son relationship in The Chosen, but both boys’ mothers are conspicuously missing. We do eventually discover that Reuven’s mother is deceased, but the juxtaposition of a heavily religious context with an all male narrative raises questions about the place of women in these families, and their respective cultural spheres. The story was created in the 1960s, but a production of the play today should take into consideration its skewed gender attitudes, and perhaps its relevance in view of this glaring omission. Nevertheless, this is a staging that speaks to our eternal search for the deeper meanings in life, and our never ending struggle to find political and spiritual peace. Chaim Potok’s text talks about the co-existence of two contradictory truths, an abstract concept that becomes convincing in this depiction of a pure and inspiring friendship.

www.encounters.edu.au

Review: Unholy Ghosts (White Box Theatre / Griffin Theatre Company)

griffintheatreVenue: SBW Stables Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Aug 27 – Sep 20, 2014
Playwright: Campion Decent
Director: Kim Hardwick
Cast: Robert Alexander, James Lugton, Anna Volska
Image by Danielle Lyonne

Theatre review (originally published at Auditorium Magazine)
We often go to the theatre for a dose of fantasy. It can be escapism that we seek, or a quest for inspiration, and it becomes easy to conceive of fantasy as a thing severed from daily lives where in fact, nothing can make good sense unless it bases itself in reality. Campion Decent’s Unholy Ghosts is mostly autobiographical. It deals with family and death, probably the most real of all concepts to undertake, and also the most difficult of things to articulate. Through art and the guise of theatrical fantasy, Decent enacts a way to analyse, heal and mourn the inevitable but deepest losses one can experience.

Family ties are uniquely challenging. Some of us are gifted more pleasant circumstances than others, but we all understand the unyielding nature of those bonds. Regardless of time and distance, only a very few can truly claim to have made clean cuts from their closest blood relations. We all know what family can make us feel, and it is that intensity of love (and hate) that makes Unholy Ghosts immutable and its effects inescapable. Decent’s writing is humorous but gentle, with a sublime melancholy that appeals to the tenderest of our sentiments. Its thorough honesty is quite confronting. We cannot resist empathising, which means that we cannot help but reflect upon the ones we hold dear, and the invisible, but persistently lingering notion of death that threatens and surrounds us.

The characters are named in the programme simply as Son, Mother and Father, and the script provides what seems to be factual information about their lives and defining events through the years, including the tragic passing of the unseen Daughter. It is a compilation of Decent’s recollections, as well as invented scenarios that help with gaining insight, or at least to find some kind of understanding, so that pain can be tamed and the living can move on. The play’s structure is hugely enjoyable. The confusion between fact and fiction, laughter and tears, victims and wrongdoers, creates a complexity that is undeniably resonant in its familiarity.

Direction is provided by Kim Hardwick, who does an excellent job of locating comedy and pathos in every moment, and allowing them to co-exist in an unusual harmony. Liberal amounts of dark humour pervades the stage, but there is also a surprising compassion that always makes its presence felt. We see resentment, anger and bitterness in the family members, but their conflicts only exist for a love that requires resolution. The intimacy of the space gives the audience easy access to the people on stage, and their terrific chemistry keeps us spellbound. Hardwick has achieved the remarkable feat of crafting a show where we fall for all of its characters at first sight. Unholy Ghosts is unashamedly sentimental, but it is also thoughtful. There are very strong emotions that surface towards the conclusion, but they are not of the wallowing type. The play keeps a level head, always maintaining a level of self-examination, which makes the sadness much more profound.

James Lugton plays the Son, a version of the playwright himself. Lugton’s emotional fortitude is a great asset to the production, for he lets us see the depth of suffering a person endures without a need for predictable and obvious gesturing. The strength he portrays is so genuine and pronounced, that it conveys the sorrow that he cannot reveal. The more he strives to keep a positive outlook, the more we hurt. It is a confident performance that deceives us with its relaxed nonchalance. It looks the opposite of melodrama, but its results are more affecting. There are moments however, where the actor seems to lose focus and he trips over lines several times, causing one to wonder if certain sections are less rehearsed. Also periodically distracted is Robert Alexander who plays Father, but like Lugton, his lapses are negligible. Alexander’s work is colourful, and the miserly man he depicts is charmingly comical and unexpectedly likable. The accuracy at which he performs the role of the “regular older man”, is brilliantly reminiscent of the literal and figurative fathers of our lives, complete with annoying quirks and disappointing imperfections. There are actors who win us over even before their first scene finishes, and Alexander is a shining example. His charisma is magical, and partnered with a clear affection for the stage, his creation is one that endears and impresses.

Mother is a creature of flamboyance and mischief, who had bought her son the Bette Midler book, A View From A Broad for his sixteenth birthday. The divine Anna Volska is electrifying. Her work ranges from outlandish and grotesque, to delicate and introspective. It is a tremendous role, and the actor fulfills every brief and requirement. Volska delivers many instances of sheer hilarity, but the delicious poignancy she invokes at every appearance is unforgettable.

Visual design is minimal and unobtrusive. No great flair is showcased, but nothing feels lacking. Sound design assists well with mood changes but several keyboard interludes are slightly too conspicuous and outmoded. In the final scene, lighting makes a drastic transformation to accompany the uplifting end. The choice to shift tone so extravagantly is questionable. It is clear that optimism and the celebration of life is a key message, but stating the case so literally may not be necessary. Also unnecessary is the compulsion to release the audience in such upbeat fashion.

The play’s happy ending however, is solid and convincing. Whether exuberant or subdued, we understand the spiritual and psychological journey that Campion Decent has taken, and we appreciate the position of enlightenment he presents. Life ends and relationships end, and it is their brief temporality that gives them value. We only wish for something to last forever when we know that its end approaches. It is tempting to declare that nothing is eternal, but the fact is that art can outlive us, and great writing endures for generations. How splendid the thought that ghosts can prevail, if the artist’s life is well lived.

www.whiteboxtheatre.com.au | www.griffintheatre.com.au

Review: Out Of Fear (Night Sky Theatre Co)

nightskytheatreVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 3 – 14, 2014
Writer: Dominic Witkop
Director: Garreth Cruikshank
Cast: Chris Miller, Kayla Stanton, Matt Thomson
Image by Geoff Sirmai

Theatre review
There are very dark themes in Dominic Witkop’s Out Of Fear, with murder and destruction in the family unit serving as inspiration. The writer explores masculine anxiety in a heavily surreal world that calls to mind David Lynch’s Lost Highway and its own Jekyll & Hyde references. Witkop’s narrative structure also borrows elements from Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club, such as its unusual take on the love triangle dynamic between two men and a femme fatale. The script is a brave attempt at something left of centre and while it does not avoid feeling derivative at times, it is certainly not run-of-the-mill. Witkop’s mise en scène is innovative, but the text requires further editing. A flair for words is only one of the aspects a playwright needs, and Out Of Fear lacks a greater theatricality in terms of the physicality and temporal dimensions of a live performance.

Direction of the work by Garreth Cruikshank aims to create a sense of conventional storytelling, with an emphasis on realism in character portrayal and development. This contradicts Witkop’s writing style, and misses the opportunity for a more visceral approach to performance. The people look like they exist in our world, but they speak as though from dreamland, with coherence proving a challenge. Surrealist theatre has evolved its own traditions and embellishments, but they are negated on this occasion, except for lighting design that attempts to add a more dramatic dimension to proceedings. Also dramatic is Chris Miller’s performance as Travis, whose energy levels are to be admired. The intensity of the role is a highlight of the production, and Miller’s enthusiasm for his character’s mania is fascinating, if a little repetitive. All three characters feel disappointingly distant, but Miller manages to keep us engaged in many of his scenes.

It is noteworthy that the play’s serious social implications do not overwhelm, and it is to the production’s credit that the work retains an experimental edge that prevents it from turning into something generic or melodramatic. On the other hand, a lost message could result in an exercise that feels somewhat inconsequential. Poignancy may elude it, but the work contains gravity, ambition and an earnestness that gives it a quiet lustre.

www.facebook.com/…