Review: Choir Boy (National Theatre of Parramatta)

 

Venue: Riverside Theatres (Parramatta NSW), Feb 14 – Mar 11, 2023 | Wollongong Town Hall (Wollongong NSW), Mar 22 – 25, 2023
Playwright: Tarell Alvin McCraney
Director: Dino Dimitriadis, Zindzi Okenyo
Cast: Gareth Dutlow, Robert Harrell, Darron Hayes, Abu Kebe, Tawanda Muzenda, Quinton Rofail Rich, Tony Sheldon, Theo Williams, Zarif
Images by Phil Erbacher

Theatre review
Pharus is leader of the choir, at his prestigious all-boys American prep school. Being naturally swishy and flamboyant, he draws the ire of other students, most noticeably Bobby who takes great joy in inflicting homophobic taunts, as many bullies have done at schools everywhere and in every generation. Fortunately, Bobby has protectors in his roommate AJ and his teacher Mr Pendleton, but even with allies on his side, there is no evading the aggression directed at him, so persistently and maliciously.

Choir Boy by Tarell Alvin McCraney is a keenly observed story on young queer Blackness, exploring the nature of conflicts that arise, when camaraderie meets hostility. Those who live at the intersections of marginalisation, often suffer multi-pronged persecution, as well as a complicated form of mistreatment, from those with whom one is meant to share parallel experiences of oppression. Pharus should be able to rely on a comradeship with the other Black boys at school, but instead of thriving in safety, he is required to be in a stated of constant vigilance.

Directed by Dino Dimitriadis and Zindzi Okenyo, Choir Boy is a poignant work of theatre, that demonstrates not only the vulnerability of young Black lives, but that also celebrates their joy and power, in colonised spaces built to undermine them. The characteristically resilient spirit of being both Black and queer, is a conspicuous feature of the production, alongside a unique sense of pride that emerges from inhabiting those dual identities. Musical direction by Allen René Louis in this “play with music” delivers an extraordinary sense of transcendence, in song sequences that highlight African-American traditions of performance, on Australian stages that are perhaps much too habituated to colourless manifestations. Energetic choreography by Tarik Frimpong too, draws meaningful attention to Black bodies, in important ways that supplement dialogue and lyrics.

It may be that the most enjoyable aspect of the production, is the exquisite singing by its young cast, but moving performances provide a gravity that delivers more than entertainment. As Pharus, Darron Hayes is charming and authentic from the very start, winning our hearts effortlessly, and keeping us firmly on his side for the entire journey. In the role of AJ is Quinton Rofail Rich, deeply convincing as the loving and supportive ally, beautiful in his exemplification of positive masculinity. Mr Pendleton is played by the captivating Tony Sheldon, whose intensity in a crucial moment of upheaval, could bring tears to the most hardened of hearts. The antagonist Bobby is given valuable dimensionality by Zarif, whose depiction of his part’s unexpected sympathetic side, makes for a more believable villain.

The sentimentality of Choir Boy is enhanced by the immense sensitivity of Karren Norris’ lighting design, that seeks to further engage our emotions. Brendon Boney’s sounds are restrained but effective in creating dramatic shifts in atmosphere. Costumes by Rita Naidu portray character types with accuracy, and adept at instilling a sense of body positivity for scenes involving states of undress.

People who experience marginalisation, should understand what it is like for other people who experience different forms of persecution, yet it is commonplace to discover people of colour living in the West, unable to embrace queer members of their own communities. There is a sense that the struggle to survive, encourages people to only champion individual interests, and in the process impose onto others, the same prejudice that they wish to interrogate. When we are divided, we are doing the coloniser’s work on their behalf, for it is separation and subjugation, that will forever be fundamental to their project.

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

Review: Orange Thrower (Griffin Theatre Company / National Theatre of Parramatta)

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Darlinghurst NSW), Feb 18 – Mar 26, 2022
Playwright: Kirsty Marillier
Director: Zindzi Okenyo
Cast: Callan Colley, Angela Nica Sullen, Mariama Whitton, Gabriela van Wyk
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Zadie’s home in an Australian suburb named Paradise, is being pelted with oranges. The cowardly vandals feel no need to explain their actions, because the house belongs to a Black family, and therefore presumably enough of a reason to suffer abuse. Meanwhile, Zadie pays little attention to the repeated humiliation; she has too much on her plate and also, this nonsense happens to minorities all the time. Kirsty Marillier’s Orange Thrower is a whimsical and mysterious work, involving young romance, supernatural phenomena and casual racism.

This unusual blend of genres offered by Orange Thrower is its greatest pleasure, as well as a great challenge that it simultaneously presents. Directed by Zindzi Okenyo, the show is fascinatingly quirky, but its very uniqueness can sit somewhat uncomfortably against more conventional sensibilities. There is something original in Marillier and Okenyo’s mode of storytelling that takes a little getting used to, with an innovative spirit that ultimately proves gratifying.

Production design by Jeremy Allen is vibrant, with a hint of playfulness that provides a sense of visual energy, whilst straddling between spaces real and surreal. Verity Hampson’s lights are bold in its range, able to take us through the wild transformations of atmosphere, that the play so bravely insists upon. Sound and music by Benjamin Pierpoint bears a sense of freedom that traverses a multitude of styles, to coax us into indulging in the play’s complex spatial renderings.

Actor Gabriela van Wyk brings intensity to the lead role, and although detailed in her depictions, the level of authenticity she portrays for Zadie can seem slightly inconsistent. Angela Nica Sullen is striking as cousin Stekkie, with an extraordinary stage presence that can convince us of anything. Younger sister Vimsy is played by a very likeable Mariama Whitton, with excellent zeal and focus. Similarly charming is the compelling and blithely agile Callan Colley who takes on double duty as eye candy love interest Leroy, and as neighbourhood serial pest Sharron, the white lady with a penchant for calling the cops on people of colour.

In spite of the injustices being hurled at her, Zadie goes about her business with passionate glee. She cleans up the mess left behind by her abusers, then goes to work, look after her family, and kisses her boyfriend. It is a kind of joyful resistance that she embodies. Artists of colour on this land too, need to adopt that modus operandi. We must fight, but we must also thrive, and be careful not to always conflate the two. Warriors need love too.

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

Review: Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Feb 6 – Mar 8, 2020
Playwright: Steve Rodgers (based on a novella by Peter Goldsworthy)
Director: Darren Yap
Cast: Valerie Bader, Emma Jackson, Mark Lee, Liam Nunan, Grace Truman, Matthew Whittet
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Linda and Rick are a young couple in love, full of hope for the future, and like many who had come before, they decide to have children. In Peter Goldsworthy’s Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam (adapted for the stage by Steve Rodgers), it is that collision of optimism and the inevitable harshness of real life that comes to the fore, when a happy family of four is met with the curse of a terminal illness.

The play is predictably emotional, with Darren Yap’s direction making no apologies for the extremely sentimental tone that his production takes. Death however, may seem a more vacillating topic than the show might suggest. As we watch the Pollards go through turmoil, finding ways to deal with the impending passing of a beloved, Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam exposes the surprisingly disparate attitudes we may hold, for a completely universal experience. It becomes obvious that because we so rarely talk about death, that we almost never have opportunities to create consensus, so it only makes sense that personal beliefs can vary greatly in relation to the topic.

Characters inhabit a relentlessly dark space, and the trauma being presented feels authentic, even if one does not share in the Pollards’ persuasions about the afterlife. The cast is uniformly strong, impressive with the chemistry they harness as an ensemble, able to give a sense of elevation to some very simple personalities. Actors Liam Nunan and Grace Truman are memorable as the children, passionate and intense with their portrayals of interrupted innocence. Emma Jackson and Matthew Whittet are their parents, both full of conviction, and remarkably elegant in their approaches for this unabashedly stirring work. Valerie Bader and Mark Lee take on a range of senior roles, precise and marvellously deliberate with what they bring to the stage.

Also noteworthy is Emma Vine’s set design, offering considerable versatility and easy scene transitions, whilst remaining pleasing to the eye. Verity Hampson’s lights, along with music and sound by Max Lambert and Sean Peter, ensure that the audience is drawn into the tragedy, through tenacious engagement of our senses.

Death can be thought of as more than a mournful occurrence. In fact, some think of it as a welcome end to suffering. In the lightness of romance, Linda and Rick create new life, unafraid of all the hardship that is sure to come. In sickness, one is made to confront mortality, with fear and sadness invariably becoming part of that process. Along with having to say a long goodbye to loved ones, it is perhaps the uncertainty about what happens thereafter, that causes the greatest despair. We may differ in how we regard the nature of death, but the beauty of life that we have all witnessed, does not have to end when the lights are turned off for the last time.

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

Review: Lady Tabouli (National Theatre of Parramatta)

Venue: Riverside Theatres (Parramatta NSW), Jan 9 – 18, 2020
Playwright: James Elazzi
Director: Dino Dimitriadis
Cast: Nisrine Amine, Deborah Galanos, Antony Makhlouf, Johnny Nasser
Images by Robert Catto

Theatre review
Danny is compliant and cheerful, as he lends a hand to his sister Josephine, who is causing a frenzy at home, preparing for her son’s christening. They are modern day Lebanese-Australians, very much a part of mainstream contemporary life, but not without their own traditions, as is common amongst minority groups. In James Elazzi’s Lady Tabouli, we celebrate the uniqueness of that cultural heritage, but together with everything good that contributes to the diverse tapestry defining our experience of identity on this land, comes a regressiveness determined to oppress the same people who wish to preserve those values.

As the hour draws close for the big event, in the midst of a lot of spirited hullabaloo, Danny decides to come out of the closet. The incongruity of sensibilities in Lady Tabouli, of a man revealing his true self whilst his family attempts to enact the most symbolic of ceremonies, forces us to acknowledge the complexities of our multiculturalism, especially in terms of LGBTQI issues, and how Australia must look beyond legislation to address the prejudice inherent in so much of our cultural practice. Gayness may no longer be illegal, but in so much of Australian society, gay people continue to be shunned.

Elazzi’s writing is powerful and passionate. Its incisive honesty provides an urgency that grips us, having us invested in the family’s story, regardless of where we stand in relation to its arguments. An abrupt conclusion however, suggests that more could be explored, even if we do appreciate the ambiguity pertaining to Danny’s subsequent developments. Directed by Dino Dimitriadis, the work is mesmerising when emotions run high. Early scenes are appropriately manic, but its humour never really takes flight. When things turn serious is when the magic happens. There is a depth to the way its characters and narrative are presented that absolutely captivates, alongside a sorrow that sings with disarming authenticity, of rejection and of loss.

That melancholy is exhaustively manufactured by the formidable partnership of Benjamin Brockman’s lights and Ben Pierpoint’s sounds, both elements hellbent on having our emotions respond with intense empathy. The show begins in the kitchen, depicted by production designer Jonathan Hindmarsh with middle class respectability, prosperous but ordinary, that transforms into the proverbial good room, where a more idiosyncratic notion of selfhood can be expressed.

Actor Antony Makhlouf is a compelling Danny, accurate in his portrayal of frustrated despondency, for a young man caught between two worlds. His mother is played by Deborah Galanos, a big presence bringing resonance to themes of piety and control, in a story about emancipation and freedom. Josephine the overbearing sister, is made scintillating by an exuberant Nisrine Amine, and Johnny Nasser is wonderfully nuanced in dual roles, adding intriguing texture to the show.

We have always tried to exercise control over nature, whether using commerce as a form of logic to plunder earthly resources, or to obliterate the most beautiful of human connections in the name of religion. We constantly position ourselves above, interpreting our variety of intelligence as solution for what we deem to be chaos in the world. More than ever before, we can see clearly that rather than being able to achieve order, what we do best is destruction. In pessimistic times, it is hard to talk about growth and progress, but our capacity for evil becomes painfully comprehensible.

www.riversideparramatta.com.au/NTofP

5 Questions with Nisrine Amine and Antony Makhlouf

Nisrine Amine

Antony Makhlouf: You play Josephine in Lady Tabouli, how would you describe her?
Nisrine Amine: She’s a handful. Lol. She is a strong woman, with a hard set of beliefs. Quite stubborn. But with a deep faith and loyalty to family. She is almost like the burghul (wheat) in a bowl of tabouli – a little hard on the teeth yet necessary for the salad to come together. She’s quite different to characters I’ve played in the past; not immediately likeable but you definitely grow to understand her as the play goes on. And that’s the main thing with characters on stage – not that we like them but that we can understand them.

Who is Lady Tabouli?
In the first iteration of the play (at Griffin Theatre as part of Batch Festival), Lady Tabouli was very clearly Danny’s alter ego; she was a vibrant and free sense of self that he was so desperately wanting, but struggling, to become. In this new version of the play, I think she is more elusive than that – she is up to individual interpretation and maybe sits somewhere between convention and progression? Shackles and freedom? She is the clash of culture and individuality; group identity and personal truth. Maybe I’ll have a better answer for you once she comes to life in January.

What are your thoughts on the “other” Lebanese salad, fattoush?
Oooo, I am a big fan. I like a good ‘crunch’ in my food. And we all know a good fattoush has some serious bread crunch game happening. So I think I might take a bowl of that over tabouli. Oh no, I have blasphemed. Alas.

Who’s your favourite character in the play?
I dunno but (director) Dino’s is ‘the heat’. (You’ll know when you watch).

So you’re directing James Elazzi’s Son of Byblos for Belvoir 25A next year. What are you looking forward to the most about this experience?
All of it! It’s going to be surreal moving ‘behind the scenes’ for one of James’ works (all of my connections with his work up to now has been as ‘actor’). There’s definitely going to be (self-imposed) pressure to continue Dino’s great directing work on a piece of Elazzi writing, but I’m up for the challenge. The main thing I’m looking forward to, in all honesty, is working with my actors. I am soooo eager to get into that rehearsal room and start building character and relationships. And to help lead the actors to beautiful and truthful moments.

Antony Makhlouf

Nisrine Amine: How similar are you and your character of Danny?
Antony Makhlouf: The similarities of Danny and I is that we’re both Australian-Lebanese men who need to balance two separate cultures. Despite the tug-of-war effect this can have at times, I love sitting within two cultures for it provides me with an insight into two worlds. This has broadened my outlook and enriched my understanding of people. I like to think I’ve created a hybrid culture of my own. Whereas with Danny, his circumstance does not afford him the space to do the same. Instead he needs to be ruthless in his pursuit of self-determination. This is where our similarities end.

What’s your favourite part about the rehearsal process?
I love those moments when you crack the scene open and the words on the page, that you’ve been reading for a while, come to a new and bigger meaning.

What mark are you hoping this play will make on the Sydney theatre scene?
Foremost, I hope Lady Tabouli draws in the people that it depicts. Don’t get me wrong, the play is open to all audiences, however there are members of the community that will see themselves on the stage and benefit from that experience. In Lady Tabouli’s preliminary version at Griffin Theatre’s Batch Festival, a large chunk of our audiences were just that, and the response was real and overwhelming. There is something very special and powerful about this work. It transcends the theatre and offers a release I believe certain marginalised communities are craving to experience. Thus, and with all respect, I am more interested in talking and affecting those people, above anything else.

What’s the key to the perfect bowl of tabouli?
You should probably ask my mum that one. But, I do love tabouli that is a day old – the flavours really settle in by then. Refrigerate overnight and then eat it with warm Lebanese bread.

Where to from here?
After Lady Tabouli, I finish filming season four of Get Arty. I also want to get cracking on creating a new collection of art prints. And I hope to continue to develop and grow as a performer, so a short course overseas somewhere is on the cards.

Nisrine Amine and Antony Makhlouf can be seen in Lady Tabouli by James Elazzi.
Dates: 9 – 18 Jan, 2020
Venue: Riverside

Review: White Pearl (National Theatre of Parramatta)

Venue: Riverside Theatres (Parramatta NSW), Oct 24 – Nov 9, 2019
Playwright: Anchuli Felicia King
Director: Priscilla Jackman
Cast: Deborah An, Mayu Iwasaki, Matthew Pearce, Vaishnavi Suryaprakash, Merlynn Tong, Catherine Văn-Davies, Shirong Wu
Images by Phil Erbacher
Theatre review
A cosmetics company specialising in skin whitening creams, wakes up in hot water, when one of its ads appears online prematurely and quickly goes viral, as a result of its shockingly racist content. The Clearday headquarters in Singapore instantly turns into a war room, with executives desperately scrambling for damage control. All six of them are Asian women, from various parts of the world, each with a different experience of race and its associated politics. In Anchuli Felicia King’s White Pearl, we see the group devolve into a belligerent mess of conflicting principles, unable to sustain an alliance forged initially by very dubious ethics.

It is a sensational piece of writing, thoroughly researched and passionately rendered. White Pearl throws us into a cauldron of frenzied chaos, but each line of dialogue is crafted with immense precision, for an insightful examination not only of capitalism and racism, but also of the classism and sexism that govern so much of how these characters operate. The play’s unravelling of corporate culture, engenders a caustic sense of humour that keeps us on edge, for a wildly funny theatrical ride that never releases us from its moral interrogations.

Director Priscilla Jackman keeps dramatic intensity at fever pitch for the entire duration, establishing an unrelenting awareness in our consciousness reminding us that the stakes are very high indeed, not only in the fiction that we encounter, but also the real life implications of this timely tale about our social responsibilities as groups and individuals. Sound design by Michael Toisuta and Me-Lee Hay amplifies the women’s stress levels, to fill the auditorium with shuddersome atmospheric pressure. Jeremy Allen’s production design and Damien Cooper’s lights are nimbly manufactured, to keep the storytelling moving at lightning speed. The playwright’s own video projections feature social media comments relating to the offending incident, ranging from amusing to appalling, working as a device that constantly widens the story’s context, so that each viewer can remain personally connected with the narrative. Dramaturg Courtney Stewart does remarkable work that allows the play to consistently resonant with accuracy.

Seven actors form a formidable ensemble to deliver an intelligent and highly entertaining show, that reveals many truths about who we are today. Priya Singh, the British Indian founder of the company is portrayed by the phenomenal Vaishanavi Suryaprakash, whose extraordinary range enables an endlessly textured study of a woman in deep trouble. It is a powerful performance that exposes the human and structural problems of the modern business world. Also very affecting is Deborah An, who plays Korean scientist Soo Jin Park, bringing incredible nuance and emotional gravity to the depiction of a very dire situation. Merlynn Tong (as Sunny Lee) and Shirong Wu (as Xiao Chen) are unforgettable for providing the biggest laughs, both immaculate with their comic timing, and wonderfully idiosyncratic with their respective interpretations of ethnically Chinese women, the former from Singapore, and the latter China.

Catherine Văn-Davies plays Built Suttikul, a fabulously wealthy, American-educated Thai national, with imposing confidence and a vigorous physicality that defies any underestimation of the ladies in White Pearl. Her sensitive choices for a sex scene brings surprising elevation to the character, and highlights the persistent impossibly of retaining integrity in the pursuit of commercial supremacy. Her French ex-lover Marcel Benoit too, becomes unexpectedly complex, as performed by a self-possessed Matthew Pearce. New addition to the “Clearday family”, Japanese recruit Ruki Minami is perfectly balanced between naivety and wisdom by Mayu Iwasaki, for a personality that demonstrates the limits of human integrity, in the stupefying face of money and power.

Clearday sells products nobody needs, that could very well be harmful. The people who comprise the company, expend all their energy on questionable activities, so that they may one day feel like a leader of the pack. This is the narrative not only of White Pearl, but also of many a conventional life in the modern world. Money and power are blinding, they shape our values so that we make compromises to morality, in the promise of a glory that rarely comes to fruition. We disregard justice, to uphold racist, sexist and classist ideals every day, in hope that the system would reward us with all that it professes, but in fact, as we see in the play, no one will emerge truly victorious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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