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

redline2Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Jan 14 – 31, 2015
Director: Scott Witt
Cast: Penny Greenhalgh, Kate Walder
Image by Yael Stempler

Theatre review
Bad is a show performed by clowns about acting (amongst other things). Along with director Scott Witt, performers Penny Greenhalgh and Kate Walder have devised a work that uses clowning traditions and influences from Commedia dell’arte, to deliver a theatrical experience that is slightly left of centre. Their show is more amusing than it is funny, and their ideas are familiar rather than original, but there is an earnestness and purity to their approach that can be quite charming.

Walder is the “stunt woman” clown who speaks with a French accent, toddling around in a pair of tap shoes. Insisting that she is Cate Blanchett, the Hollywood and theatre star, she goes on to present a show entitled ‘Where’s My Bucket, Mom?’, enlisting the help of Greenhalgh, “philosopher” clown who gradually warms to the idea of being Geoffrey Rush (another star of stage and screen). The plot and story are chaotic and random, but we are always brought back to the theme of performance. Walder and Greenhalgh explore the nature of the theatrical space and the experience of acting using their unconventional methods, with mixed results. The pair is well rehearsed, but the play’s frenzied style and structure require more intense energy levels to provide a sense of abandonment and absurdity to match its concepts. Both actors seem fairly cautious, creating a space that feels safe, where we would prefer a sense of danger and unpredictability.

Not every actor is a clown, but all clowns act. They give us something unique, that can be found in their license to transgress. Clowns do not speak much, because they communicate in better ways. They reach out to us in realms that are beyond words, so that we understand the world from a different perspective. When done right, they impart a kind of wisdom that brings unexpected enlightenment. Bad is not always good, but what’s worse is doing things the same way over and over again. There is a courage at play here, and we need more of it.

www.oldfitztheatre.com

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

redlineVenue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Jan 14 – 31, 2015
Playwrights: Gareth Davies, Charlie Garber
Directors: Gareth Davies, Charlie Garber
Cast: Gareth Davies, Charlie Garber
Image by Marnya Rothe

Theatre review
Two actors collaborate on a work for the stage, talking about what they know best. Gareth Davies and Charlie Garber’s Masterclass is about the craft and experience of acting, and all the anxieties associated with it. They take the art of self-mockery to great heights by depicting versions of themselves that are flamboyantly theatrical and deeply cynical, to interrogate the nature of their creative beast. An extreme self-consciousness manifests itself in a persistent need to make light of their art form, which delivers gales of laughter effectively, but its attempts to demystify and deconstruct the psychology and process of the actor takes irreverence to a sometimes uncomfortable place, and one begins to question the exasperating disquiet that Davies and Garber seem to feel about their profession. We see their resistance against taking any of their craft seriously, but we see them exploring this iconoclasm, with impressive commitment and skill.

There is a distinct, almost stubborn sense of humour at play, but the pair manipulates pace, rhythm, and plot dynamics to give the work variations in tone that keep us engaged, despite its very simple premise. Garber has a quiet confidence that allows him to portray the wild comedy of Masterclass with relative restraint. His style is often deadpan, but the clarity of intent he brings to every moment gives a surprising coherence to his unorthodox part, and a convincing strength to his punchlines. Davies’ approach is wider in range, and his comedic choices are decidedly riskier. The man’s energy is the foundation of the piece, and his control over spatial atmosphere and his audience’s responses is quite marvellous. We do not necessarily empathise with every idea Davies expresses, but there is certainly a lot to be admired of his ability to entertain, while conveying concepts that can be quite obscure.

Technical design is a crucial element to the structure and timing of this comedy production. Uncredited work on sound and Benjamin Brockman’s lights add much needed sophistication to an otherwise aesthetically challenged show. The play’s context allows for imaginative use of sets, props and costumes, but no investment is placed on those areas, and Brockman is called upon to provide all visual embellishment in the black box to admittedly satisfying results. Also noteworthy is stage manager Nick Foustellis’ precise and elegant execution of cues and changes.

The play concludes with a hint of poignancy that arrives after a long wait. The two young men prove themselves to be brilliant at light entertainment, but they seem to shy away from the inevitable gravitas that any theatrical piece requires. Not every story needs to give you something to think about, but when careless, jokes can leave you feeling empty. The sweet taste of success is for delighting in, and young talent should learn to embrace their gifts, even in the land of tall poppies.

www.oldfitztheatre.com

Review: Radiance (Belvoir St Theatre)

belvoirVenue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Jan 3 – Feb 8, 2015
Playwright: Louis Nowra
Director: Leah Purcell
Cast: Leah Purcell, Shari Sebbens, Miranda Tapsell
Image by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Our relationships with parents may not all be bad, but they are certainly complex. Louis Nowra’s Radiance offers a look at the way one woman’s human errors reverberate for generations after, and accordingly, we observe the inevitable karmic inheritance from predecessors. Cressy, Mae and Nona are three sisters who have reunited in North Queensland for their mother’s funeral. Their personalities are vastly different, and there is no shortage of friction as they navigate their rare time together in the old house where they had grown up. Nowra’s script is dramatic and sensual, with an aggressive but beautiful energy that surprises in a milieu that is frequently dark and plagued with anxiety.

Leah Purcell’s direction suffers from her additional responsibilities as actor in the role of Cressy. The play is uneven, with group dynamics feeling lacklustre even though the portrayal of closeness between the women is successful. Their interchanges are believable but come across oddly tame, notwithstanding some quite sensational themes. There is an understated elegance to the piece, but it is needlessly subdued, with many missed opportunities for bigger laughs and more heightened drama. It is noteworthy however, that Purcell is able to find authenticity in the writing, and the emotions of the text are adequately played out so that we feel in touch with the essence of the narrative, despite the scarcity of a sense of theatricality.

As actor, Purcell is never convincing as an opera diva who has found success overseas, and her overly restrained interpretation not only does little to embody class, it also detracts from some of the more flamboyant sections of the play. Fortunately, Purcell’s ability to deliver gravity in key revelatory moments holds our attention, and she gives the plot an enjoyable coherence. Middle child Mae is played by Shari Sebbens whose presence is noticeably weaker than her counterparts’. Her work is focused and strong, but her depiction of seriousness can read a little dreary, and consequently, her character becomes too distant. On the other hand, the youngest role of Nona is engagingly and empathetically performed by Miranda Tapsell, who connects with us from her very first entrance. The vibrancy she introduces to her scenes is remarkable, if only that energy is sustained by the other players. Tapsell has an easy confidence that keeps us on her side, and the compassion she brings to her character allows us to believe the extraordinary circumstances we witness unfolding.

Sound design by Brendan O’Brien is thorough and thoughtful, adding a dimension to the show that facilitates the articulation of a complicated and deep emotional universe. Dale Ferguson’s set is sophisticatedly beautiful, but his design forces a substantial portion of the play to be performed quite far upstage, prohibiting us from getting more involved.

Louis Nowra’s script is undeniably rich and seductive. It deals with familiar difficulties of real life, but the world it inhabits is almost exotic. Radiance uncovers a wildness that exists in our own homes, one that hides in plain sight yet begs to be examined. Secrets are associated with shame, but it is the abandonment of shame that will ultimately set us free.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: The Age Of Entitlement (Mongrel Mouth)

mongrelmouthVenue: Merchants House (Sydney NSW), Dec 3 – 20, 2014
Playwright: Saman Shad
Director: Duncan Maurice
Cast: Adam Connelly, Ali Crew, Amelia Tranter, Aston Campbell, Charlie Upton, Christina Sankari, Danny Gubbay, Eli King, Ezequiel Martinez, Guilia Clemente, Julia Landrey, Latisha Owens, Mark Williamson, Moreblessing Maturure, Paloma Alma, Rowan McDonald, Sage Godrei, Sharon Zeeman, Tess Marshall

Theatre review
Nineteen actors in a beautifully preserved old building present a simple story about politics. We navigate our way through rooms and characters, observing and speaking with these mysterious people, trying to piece together narratives, and to find an understanding of each personality’s agenda, and also what the artists are attempting to convey. The action centres around Lara, who is presented on the ground floor as a student leader of the left, and in a different room upstairs, she is an older politician raising funds to become the head of her right-wing party.

There is a certain amount of chaos from the immersive experiment that keeps us on our toes. It is challenging work that does not let its audience feel comfortable at any point, and director Duncan Maurice is determined for his work to be intriguing and thought-provoking. Placing his actors at such close proximity, we are forced to engage and interpret. Maurice leaves us no room to hide, and we are pressured into taking a stand. The performance feels slightly longer than its eighty minutes. The unusual format leaves us to compose a cohesive tale from many disparate fragments, but unravelling the riddles does not take much time. We are then left to loiter around the hallways waiting for a conclusion of some description to occur, which fortunately, does eventuate, and in quite spectacular style.

Julia Landrey plays X, a member of the student union who proves to be more radical than her peers. X is often positioned alone, so that when we encounter her, she is free to express hidden beliefs that might be too controversial for her comrades. The nature of the work requires a good amount of thick-skinned daring from its cast, and Landrey’s strength ensures that she connects well, even though the role’s presence is an intimidating one. Her impressive improvisational skills allow for brilliant conversations to unfold, and we find ourselves becoming more involved than ever anticipated.

Some of the group is less effective, but they all contribute to the unusual carnival flavour that the production will be remembered for. There are instances where characters seem narrow in scope, which often lead to a shallow sense of plot and oversimplification of ideas. A substantial part of the discussion The Age Of Entitlement aims to inspire, is the tension between the left and right of politics, and the way Australian society shapes its attitudes according to convenient alliances.

The production is well designed. Alex PF Jackson’s work for makeup, hair and costumes especially, are noteworthy. Set and lights are slightly less polished, but spaces are adequately dressed to evoke a sense of fantasy and transportative theatricality.

Political theatre gives voice to causes and groups, and on occasion, it changes minds. This show does not tell us what to think, but it espouses the importance of holding beliefs and standing up for them. Almost contradictory is the way it interrogates our practice of identifying with political sides, but that conflict gives the work a meaningful complexity that feels resonant with our lived experiences. Maybe a few people will begin to think differently of their political attitudes from attending Entitlement, but more likely is its effect on how we think of theatre’s relationship with the public and its modes of expression. There is so much to be explored when artists and audience meet, especially when all the old rules are broken.

www.mongrelmouth.com

Review: Tell Me Again (Eye Of The Storm / The Old 505 Theatre)

old505Venue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Dec 3 – 21, 2014
Playwright: Jeanette Cronin
Director: Michael Pigott
Cast: Jeanette Cronin, James Lugton

Theatre review
The stage is a sacred space. It has endless possibilities, and many have occupied and used it for different purposes, to achieve every imaginable effect and result. Jeanette Cronin’s Tell Me Again shows a love and respect for the theatrical form and its audience, aiming to provide a moment in time with something deeply emotional, perhaps making us feel things in a way that our real daily lives are too fragile or restless to permit. Cronin’s play invites us to encounter what is truest of the human experience, by instigating a series of raw and naked visceral responses by removing the protection of narrative and logic. It is poetry in motion that encourages us to get in touch with the the spirit within that compels us toward every action, yet that internal essence seldom seeks to be the centre of attention. For these 80 minutes, we come face to face with it, and it is sublime.

Direction and design of the work by Michael Pigott creates an inviting beauty that lets us connect with the work in a place that story usually resides. He engages our curiosity and we begin to apply our own stories to what he lets us experience. Where there is emotion, there is a human need to explain and understand its origin, and it is the spectator’s own creativity that is summoned in Tell Me Again. Pigott’s work is extremely tender and sensitive, but there is also an uninhibitedness that prevents things from becoming predictable. There are instances however, where the show seems to drift away from our consciousness, as we indulge in the ideas it inspires, but it invariably pulls us back with touches of drama and passion.

Flawless performances by Cronin and James Lugton produce a couple of characters palpable in their authenticity, and stunning with chemistry. Lugton’s minimal approach strips away layers of affectation so that only the very essential is left, and exposed like fresh wounds. It is a physical manifestation of the concept of love, not always immediate and recognisable, but incredibly moving and profound at the end. Cronin is intense but quiet, with a wild and devastating power barely hidden, explosive secrets brimming under the surface. The role she plays is strange but not a stranger. In fact, the complexities Cronin displays are familiar, feeling like private flashbacks unfolding before our eyes despite the peculiarity of the play’s eccentric plot.

We cannot live in a constant state of elevated sentimentality, but leaving emotions concealed is on one hand damaging and on the other, an unfortunate deprivation. Feelings are scary things, but Tell Me Again turns them seductive and irresistible. The indulgence in sadness and melancholy is an occasional necessity, and art is its friendly abettor, but in this production, escapism is not to be found, and the pain that remains, is naked.

www.venue505.com/theatre

Review: Rupert (Stage Mogul / Theatre Royal)

rupertVenue: Theatre Royal (Sydney NSW), Nov 25 – Dec 20, 2014
Playwright: David Williamson
Director: Lee Lewis
Actors: James Cromwell, Jane Turner, Guy Edmonds, Scott Sheridan, Hai Ha Le, Bert LaBonte, John Leary, Jane Phegan, Ben Wood, Glenn Hazeldine, Danielle Cormack

Theatre review
Biographies of fascinating people appeal to our inquisitive nature. We want to know how people tick, to discover reason behind behaviour, and to uncover secrets of the rich and famous. Rupert Murdoch is one of the world’s most well-known business people, with a personal and professional history that is documented ubiquitously in the public domain. David Williamson’s script is a chronological rehash of Murdoch’s many milestones, but does not provide analysis or insight that might offer a fresh perspective of the prominent figure. The plot reads like a Wikipedia entry, with one key event after another, none of which is surprising and everything is predictable.

Director Lee Lewis does an admirable job of creating a dynamic and colourful show from the plain script. The show feels like a Broadway musical with bells and whistles in every scene taking focus away from the lack of story and drama. Lewis does her best to add excitement with well paced and energetic sequences, but at over two hours, our attention struggles to stay interested in the deficient narrative. The production is designed successfully, with composer Kelly Ryall and lighting designer Niklas Pajanti both adding flair and inventiveness to the proceedings, and Stephen Curtis’ set and audio-visual elements giving the large performance space focus, shape and texture. Murdoch’s tabloid format takes to the stage, giving us cosmetic lavishness, and distraction from the real issues.

There are two Ruperts in the show. James Cromwell is presented as Murdoch as he is today (complete with Twitter account) telling us his side of the story like a narrator to the piece. Cromwell’s energy is oddly placid, but the actor’s sturdy presence helps him portray the allure of power and wealth convincingly. Guy Edmonds is outstanding as Murdoch in the flashbacks. He is astute, charming and sprightly, with a clarity that engages his audience, and a vibrancy that entertains. Edmonds does all the heavy lifting in the show, and his talent is a real highlight. Jane Turner’s comic abilities deliver a memorable, absurdist version of Margaret Thatcher, and Glenn Hazeldine impresses with a range of characters showcasing his amazing skills at mimicry and farcical exuberance.

So much of Rupert is strong and accomplished, but all the accoutrements in the world will not create a great story with a script as dry as this. All the interesting questions one might ask Murdoch in a personal encounter are not addressed. We leave not learning anything new, not understanding the man behind the madness, and completely unsatisfied.

www.rupertonstage.com

Review: Absent Friends (Ensemble Theatre)

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Dec 4, 2014 – Jan 24, 2015.
Playwright: Alan Ayckbourn
Director: Mark Kilmurry
Cast: Michelle Doake, Darren Gilshenan, Brian Meegan, Jessica Sullivan, Richard Sydenham, Queenie Van De Zandt
Images by Katy Green Loughrey

Theatre review
Theatre is much more than storytelling, but the allure of a captivating narrative is hard to resist. In Alan Ayckbourn’s 1974 play Absent Friends, a vague context is set up as a springboard for innovative use of time and space, and in the case of director Mark Kilmurry’s efforts, to deliver an unusual and unexpected form of comedy that challenges our notions of performance and entertainment. Diana is throwing a tea party for an old friend who is mourning the death of his fiancée. The group comprises six distinct and diverse personalities, each independently fascinating but unified by a mode of presentation clearly established by Kilmurry.

The show is often absurd and slapstick in tone, and we find ourselves laughing at inane moments that have little to do with the story, but it strives for something that is ultimately quite precise and polished. The enjoyment of the work lies in the way human traits and behaviour are exaggerated so that we recognise parts of life that are usually too subtle to grip our attention. Small things matter, and the production moves focus away from key plot points to emphasise minute interchanges that occur between friends. It encourages us to appreciate friendship not for the impact they may have on major life events, but for the unadulterated bliss derived from physical company and emotional closeness. Kilmurry’s direction is brave, but not always effective. The work depends heavily on the cast’s chemistry with its audience and achieving that familiarity was hit and miss on opening night.

Darren Gilshenan plays Colin, the recently bereaved, with effervescent irony and a mischievous presence. The actor’s sense of humour is a perfect match for the farce that unfolds. We believe the tragedy that Colin experiences, but are also persuaded by Gilshenan’s comic charms and impeccable timing. In the role of Marge is Queenie Van De Zandt, whose considered and dynamic approach provides some of the show’s biggest laughs. Her work is enchanting, exacting and hilarious, with an edginess that provides a vibrant energy whenever she takes centre stage. Michelle Doake and Richard Sydenham both perform outrageously memorable scenes, but are less consistent with their level of engagement with viewers.

We all need to laugh, but what people consider funny is a mystery, and attempts at locating keys to that mystery requires constant reinvention. Absent Friends has an experimental spirit that lights up the theatre. It takes many risks, and while they may not all pay off, the work impresses with its exhilarating and original take on live performance. The play may be forty years-old, but the jokes it presents are fresh as a daisy.

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: Cinderella (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Nov 13 – Dec 14, 2014
Playwright: Matthew Whittet (based on an original concept by Anthea Williams)
Director: Anthea Williams
Cast: Mandy McElhinney, Matthew Whittet
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Fairy tales appeal to our basic desires. They address our need to be acknowledged and exalted, which is probably why they so often take the form of love stories. Matthew Whittet and Anthea Williams’s Cinderella is about our need for love, but it seeks to transform the fantasies and lies of Disney world, relocating it to a space of truth, lived experience, and disappointment. Its characters Ashley and Ash, are thoroughly familiar beings who remind us of ourselves and of people we meet everyday. They are strangers in the night who reach out to each other, hoping for a connection, and it is that possibility of a soul finding its other half that touches and engages us.

When both Ashleys meet, their accidental encounter is an awkward one. They are not brassy personalities, and their attempts at stretching beyond their individual comfort zones in the act of seduction becomes the comedic core of the production. The actors are brilliant comics who deliver laughs with precision, but the plot feels repetitive in its emphasis on creating jokes from that incessant awkwardness that subsumes the otherwise interesting development of character and relationship that takes place under the surface. A major tonal shift finally occurs in the last quarter of the show, bringing a breath of fresh air along with immense poignancy. The conclusion is beautifully crafted, although the depth that is eventually exposed feels sadly momentary.

The charismatic Whittet plays Ash with an attractive ease, consistently amusing his audience with a quirky instinctual approach. The actor has a slight physique and his countenance is plain, but the magnetic presence he adds to the stage assertively demands our attention, determined to entertain at every opportunity. Also enjoyable is Mandy McElhinney, who presents herself as a committed comedian, always sensitive to punchlines and timing. Her enthusiasm for creating laughter is infectious, but it also alienates us from the emotional arc of her character’s journey. We wish to dive into Ashley’s experience, but often find ourselves pushed out to observe only the funny side of scenarios. It is noteworthy that McElhinney and Whittet perform the final dark scenes with excellent and surprising intensity, leaving us wishing for more of their serious sides.

This Cinderella is an accurate and timely representation of romance in the digital age. Technology and commerce have penetrated every aspect of our lives, yet some of our notions of love and relationships are adamantly traditional and wholesome. The show looks at how we survive loneliness, and the meaning of sex and relationships in the era of dating apps and casual hook ups. The reality is unbearably grim, but it is human to shield our vulnerability with dreams. In affairs of the heart, delusions and hope are two sides of the same coin, and only the ones looking at the stars will stand a chance of fleeing the gutter.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: Belle Of The Cross (Harlos Productions / Sydney Independent Theatre Company)

sitco2Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Nov 18 – 29, 2014
Playwright: Angelika Fremd
Director: David Ritchie
Cast: Gertraud Ingeborg, Colleen Cook
Image by Katy Green Loughrey

Theatre review
Sydney’s Kings Cross is completely unique. Always controversial, vibrant and newsworthy, the area is a tiny geographical spot, but its infamy reaches far and wide. Residents of the precinct range from the very wealthy to the impoverished, including the homeless who often gravitate towards its parks and colourful alleyways. Angelika Fremd’s Belle Of The Cross is not biographical, but Belle is a composite, created from Fremd’s observations of “streeties” in the neighbourhood during her eight years at the Cross. The play is poetic, atmospheric and emotional, with only a light narrative thread holding scenes together. The writer depicts the extraordinary community with affection and dignity, rejecting contexts of mental illness that might cause a reductive reading of her subject matter.

Direction of the work by David Ritchie is sensitive to the considerations of the script, and he builds a sense of grace into the production, but its unrelenting gentleness prevents sufficient dramatic tension from taking hold. Scene changes tend to be overly subtle, with indistinct shifts in time and mood. Gertraud Ingeborg’s performance in the title role personifies warmth and sincerity. Her focus is impressive, and even though the stillness in her presence gives weight to the show, a lack of tonal variation results in a character that does not seem to develop adequately. Belle is an interesting personality that we have a lot of curiosity about, but the play needs to provide more insight to satisfy our desire to know her.

We all have times of loneliness, but Belle’s struggle is to do with isolation and aloneness. Although she is quite content with her own company, we must question our capacity and willingness as neighbours and community to furnish an environment that is safe and nourishing. Homelessness is a complex issue, one that crosses paths with a society’s stance on human rights and its economic ideologies. Belle Of The Cross gives a voice to the often seen but rarely heard, and is therefore essential and important, if we believe ourselves to be civilised.

www.sitco.net.au

Review: The Les Robinson Story (Type Faster Productions / Sydney Independent Theatre Company)

sitco1Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Nov 18 – 29, 2014
Playwright: Kieran Carroll
Director: Ron Hadley
Cast: Martin Portus, Matt Thomson
Image by Katy Green Loughrey

Theatre review
When a person commits their life to the arts, it is often a conscious decision to go against many societal expectations, and therefore, to become resolutely anti-conformist. Many struggle to make ends meet, and few achieve great critical success, yet there are those who persist through hardship, believing that it is their devotion to their art that provides the greatest meaning. Les Robinson was a Sydney writer who had had only one book published, The Giraffe’s Uncle, in 1933. Between the 1920s and 1960s, the eccentric figure lived a one-man bohemia in shacks and caves around the Sydney harbour, listening to records, fishing and of course, writing.

Kieran Carroll’s lovingly crafted play immortalises a forgotten soul, one whose stories provide us with insight into an unusual life, and a fresh perspective of the city that we love. Carroll’s work is deeply melancholic, but it is also wonderfully inspiring. We hear about iconic artists everyday, but to learn about one of the others, is unexpectedly comforting. The Les Robinson Story could easily be a depressing one, but Ron Hadley’s direction takes care to serve up the joy with the sorrow, always leading us to the light at the end of each dark tunnel. The depiction of time’s passage however, could be made clearer, in order for us to gain a more detailed impression of the character’s evolution.

Martin Portus is not a neglected writer living under a bridge, but the actor certainly makes us believe that he and Robinson are one and the same. The level of authenticity he achieves is the great beauty of this staging. Portus’ presence is strong and sturdy, and his eagerness to share this buried tale is quite moving. As with all great storytellers, we often find ourselves suspended in time with the performer, losing awareness of before and after, completely captivated by right now.

The Les Robinson Story might be about disappointments, loss and regret, but it will be remembered for the man’s spiritedness and his tenacity at living a life of truth and honesty. Robinson never pretended to be anything but his genuine self, and that alone trumps everything else.

www.sitco.net.au