Review: The Big Time (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Jan 18 – Mar 16, 2019
Playwright: David Williamson
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Claudia Barrie, Zoe Carides, Aileen Huynh, Matt Minto, Jeremy Waters, Ben Wood
Images by Brett Boardman
Theatre review
Celia and Rohan are lovers in the film industry, both trying to advance their careers onto the next step. In David Williamson’s The Big Time, we see the dirty business of betrayal, jealousy and deception, operating in a dog eat dog world, in which integrity seems almost certain to make one a loser. Laden with cliché and implausible characters, the play’s narrative never manages to become convincing, even if the story does feel like it has been told a hundred times before. The shallowness of the people we meet may bear some semblance of truth, but there is little that we are able to relate to, in Williamson’s oversimplified depiction of their approaches to work and life.

As Celia, Aileen Huynh is able to bring some emotional intensity to the piece, but her sense of humour proves incompatible with what the show requires. Jeremy Waters’ energetic presence as Rohan helps to sustain our interest, particularly enjoyable in a handful of scenes with Ben Wood’s Rolly, in which we witness the only moments of chemistry on this stage. Director Mark Kilmurry keeps a close eye on performances, careful to prevent his actors from transforming the production into a campy farce, but the earnestness at which the show is calibrated, does make the experience somewhat lacklustre.

It is funny that we take show business so seriously. The billions of dollars poured into the entertainment industry can seem a waste of resources, but it reflects the lightness of our beings that can never be underestimated. We want to have a good time, and it can often seem that escapism comprises a substantial portion of our realities. Business does however, on occasion, make transactions with art, when a deeper investigation into the human condition can accompany the procurement of enjoyment. It is a rare beast that can combine things amusing with that which is truly important, and most of the time, we are grateful to encounter just one of those elements.

Review: The Norman Conquests (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Nov 2, 2018 – Jan 12, 2019
Playwright: Alan Ayckbourn
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Danielle Carter, Rachel Gordon, Brian Meegan, Sam O’Sullivan, Yalin Ozucelik, Matilda Ridgway
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Ruth’s husband is having dalliances with her sister and her sister-in-law. These extramarital trysts with Norman are at least momentarily pleasurable, but it comes as no surprise that there is pandemonium when the cat is out of the bag. Alan Ayckbourn’s trilogy The Norman Conquests takes place in a weekend, with each instalment encompassing the action at a specific area of the family’s country home. Table Manners occurs in the dining hall, Living Together in the living room, and Round And Round The Garden in the garden. They form a cohesive whole, but each part stands alone, for this intricate 1973 comedy about the meaning of marriage, at a time of sexual liberation as Britain emerges from the swinging sixties.

Its humour is of a classic style, with 45-year-old jokes likely to divide audiences, but at the heart of the piece is Ruth’s surprising permissiveness, still refreshing by today’s standards. Her reluctance to see the affairs as necessarily catastrophic, but more of an annoyance, leads us to a progressive evaluation of monogamy, still relevant to how we conceive of relationships and marriages today. This revival, directed by Mark Kilmurry, is bright and bubbly, a compelling jaunt back in time that is surprisingly resonant, even if its language is obviously outdated.

The characters may sound like the past, but they are made to feel current, by an excellent, and tireless, uniformly captivating cast. Yalin Ozucelik gives Norman an appropriate sex appeal, cleverly depicting that familiar blend of naivety and cunning, to convey the ambiguously deceptive quality of men who love too many. Matilda Ridgway is a marvellously complex Annie, the aforementioned sister, richly imagined with veraciously human conflicts, clearly presented for a personality sensual and intelligent. Ruth is played by Rachel Gordon, wonderfully vivacious and highly sophisticated, for an exemplary portrait of a woman with an open mind, unafraid to set her own rules.

When Ruth declares that she does not own her husband, we are urged to re-examine sexual relationships, and perhaps define them anew. In letting our loved ones go, we in turn disallow ourselves from ever being enslaved. Love, however, can make free people want to be bound. To have and to hold is a divine notion, but life without freedom is abhorrent, just as life without love is unbearable. In every intimate connection, whether fleeting or longstanding, delicate negotiations are required; traditional prescriptive methods, when adopted unquestioned, rarely deliver satisfactory results. Congress between organic beings can never be completely predictable, for every entity is different and in constant flux. We just need to make sure that nobody gets hurt, although it seems always to be easier said than done.

Review: Luna Gale (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Sep 7 – Oct 13, 2018
Playwright: Rebecca Gilman
Director: Susanna Dowling
Cast: Michelle Doake, Lucy Heffernan, Georgie Parker, Scott Sheridan, Ebony Vagulans, Jacob Warner, David Whitney
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review
A baby named Luna is being held under state care, while her teenage parents attempt to clean up their act. Social worker Caroline does her best to do what is right, but faces opposition from her manager and from Luna’s overly religious grandmother. Luna Gale by Rebecca Gilman is a classic piece of American drama, compelling, moving and incredibly taut; it discusses private lives under the interference of church and government, alongside timely stories of child abuse that are unequivocally pertinent. Both emotional and thought-provoking, Gilman’s play is wonderfully engrossing, and thoroughly satisfying.

Susanna Dowling’s persuasive direction ensures that we are wholly invested in Caroline’s ordeal, keeping us riveted and entertained for the entire duration of this thrilling production. Set design by Simone Romaniuk is appropriately staid in style, but highly efficient in the way it addresses the many scenic transformations as required by the text.

Performances are stellar, with actor Georgie Parker leading the cast in brilliant form. She does not always sound convincingly American, but as Caroline, the complexities she brings is exceptional, and the power of her delivery is entirely mesmerising. Parker’s work is intense, astute and inventive, always impeccably elegant no matter how operatic the action turns. The baby’s young mother Karlie is played by Lucy Heffernan, unforgettable with the vulnerable authenticity she puts on stage. Remarkably sensitive and nuanced, it is a poignant depiction of a girl in trouble trying hard to improve her circumstances, allowing even the most jaded of audiences to relate to those experiences.

When damaged children grow up, they can either perpetuate harm, or they can endeavour to amend inter-generational problems. Even though Karlie had given birth to new life, she proves herself incapable of caring for Luna, placing the baby in grave danger as a result of neglectful behaviour. Caroline chose not to be a mother, committing instead to the thankless task of saving children from their failing parents. No one escapes childhood completely unscathed, but most are able to imagine better ways forward. The ones who are trapped in cycles of violations, will need help in trying to break free. How our communities are willing to offer remedy, is testament to the quality of people we are.

Review: The Widow Unplugged Or An Actor Deploys (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Jul 26 – Sep 1, 2018
Playwright: Reg Livermore
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Reg Livermore
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Arthur Kwick fancies himself a performer but possesses no discernible talent. Nevertheless he does persist with his passion and has devoted his entire life to finding opportunities to jump on a stage, and make a fool of himself. Reg Livermore’s The Widow Unplugged Or An Actor Deploys is a work about an actor, by an actor. It is also a meditation about approaching the end of life, and whether one should go quietly, or to resist the notion of complete retirement. It is not a biographical work, but the parallels are absolutely clear.

The show bears a tone of abstraction, requiring its audience to work hard to decipher whatever it is that is being presented. There is a chance that the incoherence we encounter has more to do with Livermore’s current abilities, than with any artistic intention to confuse its audience in a purposeful or meaningful way, but that of course shall remain a mystery. The comedy is extremely corny, incessantly so, and would probably appeal only to the star’s devotees. Jokes about Chinese people eating their pets, and a Chinese laundry’s success being due to not using any MSG, are only the tip of the iceberg, in two large sections where he decides, with very poor judgement, to lampoon a Chinese woman character in Mosman. There may not be a substantial number of Asian patrons at Livermore’s show, but it still astounds that such insensitivity could find a place in Australian theatre today.

One of the allures of acquiring power, is that those who wield it, suffer little consequence for their actions. We make heroes of people, forgetting that they too are capable of failure, and we find ourselves at a loss when they cause offence using the very platforms we had gifted. Big names and great reputations are intrinsic to our social nature. We want to see people do well, and we want to raise them up as glorious examples of humanity at its best, but every person makes mistakes, and when luminaries disappoint, communities must acknowledge the new epiphanies.

Review: Unqualified (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Jun 22 – Jul 21, 2018
Playwrights: Genevieve Hegney, Catherine Moore
Director: Janine Watson
Cast: Genevieve Hegney, Catherine Moore
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review
Centrelink offices are not generally considered places of serendipity, but when Felicity and Joanne meet, an unlikely and fortuitous union occurs. They join forces to set up a temping agency, creating opportunities for themselves, to leave the past behind and to become gainfully employed in a manner that gives them a new independence. Finding your own feet, however, is never an easy task. The women fly before they walk, and with a hilarity derived from their naivety, we watch them in Unqualified, fumbling and learning to come into their own.

Genevieve Hegney and Catherine Moore’s play contains a suite of excellent jokes, all stemming from a meaningful concept, involving women resisting their societal obligations as wives and daughters. Its general plot is insufficiently taut, but the show is a successful expansion of the skit format, with speedy exchanges between the two designed to provide what seems an endless amount of very clever punchlines.

The writers present their own creation, both impressive with the detail that they bring on stage, along with a sensational display of chemistry determined to hold us captive. Moore is particularly delightful as the jovial Felicity, delivering a comic performance astonishing in its efficacy, precision and inventiveness. Director Janine Watson orchestrates the action so that there is plenty of colour and movement to occupy our attention. Even when the story stagnates, we find ourselves luxuriating in the laughs that come through incessantly, and effortlessly.

Few people seem to be able go through life never having to make any sacrifices; many of us look as though we are never capable of putting ourselves first. Unqualified is a work celebrating the discovery, when it finally dawns upon us, that there is a finite amount to what we can owe, and that true fulfilment requires an individual to understand what it is that will realise their true potential. Felicity and Joanne spent many years cultivating a sense of worth, by following prescribed rules. It is satisfying to witness their moment of self-determination, as they make the decision to break free. Humour can help us through anything, but emancipation is ultimately the biggest reward.

Review: Marjorie Prime (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Jun 15 – Jul 21, 2018
Playwright: Jordan Harrison
Director: Mitchell Butel
Cast: Lucy Bell, Maggie Dence, Jake Speer, Richard Sydenham
Images by Lisa Tomasetti

Theatre review
Holograms are a reality, and so is artificial intelligence. Combining the two could garner extraordinary results, and in Jordan Harrison’s Marjorie Prime, we see what happens when the memory of lost loves are calibrated through technology, and people are able to re-materialise in three dimensional pixel form. A widow speaks to her late husband, who appears to exist right before her eyes, a digital simulacra assembled from information that she provides. This is science fiction that all can relate to. Universally intriguing notions around the extension of life, is a powerful subject, but the play’s sense of drama is subdued, and its intellect seems curiously restrained.

The production is elegantly assembled, on a very fabulous set, designed by Simon Greer. Director Mitchell Butel gives us only the essentials in a remarkably low-key approach, but the text seems to offer little that is exciting, besides its initially enticing conceit. Scenes become increasingly repetitive, and we find ourselves gradually alienated from a story that struggles to progress meaningfully. Its conclusion however, is once again provocative, as it takes the plot, finally, to somewhere surprising and quite fascinating.

The show might prove underwhelming but it is a polished and professional cast that takes the stage. In the role of Jon is Richard Sydenham, whose emotions are conveyed with an admirable precision that invites us at key points, to attain truthful connection with themes being discussed in Marjorie Prime. Maggie Dence is charming and humorous as Marjorie, cleverly introducing moments of levity to prevent the piece from turning monotonously serious. Lucy Bell and Jake Speer are competent and committed to their parts, although predictable with the interpretations that they bring.

There is a heavy scepticism in the play, that relates to the synthetic portions of our high tech existence, even though it does acquiesce to the inevitable development of civilisation down the futuristic path. Technophobia should never be the default position when talking about tomorrow. We should question everything, but whenever we submit to convenient attitudes of “natural is always better,” we deprive ourselves of empirical truths. It is tempting to want things to stay the same, but the only constant, as always, is change.

Review: Shirley Valentine (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), May 3 – Jun 9, 2018
Playwright: Willy Russell
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Sharon Millerchip
Images by Anna Kucera

Theatre review
It was only 30 or so years ago, that millions of women had lived like Shirley Valentine; lonely housewives who spoke to walls at home, subsisting with no real purpose, and suffering from the ill effects of misplaced self-esteem from years of marriage and motherhood. After decades of obeying rules of society and religion, id est to wed a man and fall pregnant, and then realising that the second half of their lives could easily turn meaningless, when their assigned function in procreation expires at middle age.

Willy Russell’s 1986 monologue Shirley Valentine can seem a relic, about a type of repressed womanhood, which has disappeared from our new century, but even though that particular archetype no longer occupies front of our minds, Shirley’s challenges remain resonant. Many of us adhere to the expectations of others, trusting in the promises of tradition and convention, rather than determining for ourselves, the constituents of a personally fulfilling life. The argument of course, is that it is never too late to start living, although to break free of one’s own shackles, is always easier said than done.

Even though the play is no longer the breath of fresh air that some remember, Mark Kilmurry’s direction ensures that its ageless pertinence is kept pronounced and pervasive. Alongside the highly entertaining whimsy of Shirley’s personality, is an ever-present sense of profundity accompanying all phases of the joyful evolution that we watch her undergo. Full of charm and airy wit, it is an engaging show from start to end, with actor Sharon Millerchip’s charisma proving irresistible, tenaciously so, as we observe her transformations, from strength to strength. Millerchip invites us, with exacting resolve, to root for her character, and we feel as though we take the journey together, with her as captain and us the motor that propels her forward. Shirley’s successes need to be witnessed, and we are there, happily, for her.

Shirley Valentine is a vaguely feminist piece, showing little resentment for power structures determined to keep women subjugated, but celebrates instead, its protagonist’s ability to fight for her own emancipation. The play ends where a new chapter is about to begin. That ambiguity is an accurate representation of many who dare to rise up and reclaim power. For a moment at least, the individual will have to come face to face with opposing forces, that had been hitherto dormant and appeased. Once materialised, this re-positioning of status and relationships, is an unknown quantity, that may lead to a new equilibrium, or more likely, cause ruptures that if sufficiently substantial, will deliver a greater sense of independence and self-determination. To achieve what is fair and just, often involves significant sacrifices that are initially inconceivable. Shirley wants her cake and eat it too. We can only keep our fingers crossed.