Review: Thom Pain – Based On Nothing (Sydney Independent Theatre Company)

Auditorium_American-issue_TVenue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), May 5 – 10, 2014
Playwright: Will Eno
Director: Julie Baz
Actor: David Jeffrey

Theatre review (originally published at auditoriummag.com)
Thom Pain (Based On Nothing) is about fear, loss and loneliness. Will Eno depicts a state of sadness that is genuine in its erratic complexity, but also joyful and humorous in its profound observations. Thom Pain is a man who has experienced disappointments, and he knows what betrayal and injustice feels like. Eno’s script expresses the process that one needs to go through in order to emerge renewed and strengthened, but Pain has not yet found that enlightenment.

His struggle is the flesh and blood of this work, and a representation of a condition of being that is too easily forgotten. The human capacity to leave pain behind after it subsides, makes this a valuable piece of rumination. We get over things and move on, but Pain’s very presence demonstrates some of the intricacies of our coping mechanisms, and watching them in action is fascinating. The writing has a rambling incoherence that seems theatrical, but also poignantly realistic. We are rarely clear of mind at troubled times, and Eno utilises that natural inability to make sense of things, to great dramatic effect. Everything is strange yet familiar. The audience observes the peculiarity of Pain’s behaviour, while feeling a close affinity to the character.

Thom Pain (Based On Nothing) is a work of art that cuts deeply and meaningfully, revealing an image of our own humanity through a mirror that is rarely uncovered. It is also a work of excellent entertainment, with performer David Jeffrey providing the one-man show considerable pathos and a very charming whimsy. In spite of his considerable actorly talents, Jeffrey brings a quality of diffidence to the stage that gives his character an authenticity that we not only warm to, but almost feel protective towards. The text’s unconventional structure risks alienating its audience, but we care for the man Jeffrey creates, and he makes us sit and listen intently.

He is very funny, and very wry. He wallows, but he is also self-effacing. He plays with our emotions, taking them on an unpredictable and haphazard journey, to all the spaces we messily label “mixed emotions”. Jeffrey’s achievement however, goes further than succeeding in making us laugh and cry. The actor’s portrayal of melancholy is so charged with vulnerability, it reminds us of feelings we bury deep within. The same ones we can sense in our bodies almost everyday but are rarely allowed to surface. Jeffrey makes that pain emerge with a quiet wonder, and in the safety of the theatre, we encounter the closest friend of all, our own broken hearts.

Melancholia is the overriding tone, and perhaps theme, of the show. Director Julie Baz creates an atmosphere thick with moody pensiveness, and it is seductive. The evocative and beautiful underscoring music is a selection of pieces from Sergey Akhunov’s Big Elegy To John Cage, which contribute greatly to the production’s introspective texture. Melancholy visits us all and people relate to it in different ways, ranging from repulsion to pleasure. Accordingly, the production’s appeal would vary according to tastes, but the liberal amount of comedy intelligently added to Baz’s weighty microcosm, ensures that the work speaks to many.

It is often too easy to overindulge in lengthy well-written passages, putting too much trust on the words to work their own magic. Baz is conscious of the pitfalls of extended monologues and wisely encourages the actor to embellish with movement, both exaggerated and subtle, resulting in a performance that is energetic and optically dynamic. The use of space is similarly active, but stage design is overly minimal due to Eno’s specifications. He believes that “there is a humility about theatre and life in the script; it should be there in the production, too.” This is a persuasive argument, but it is also true that the script could benefit from greater visual flourish and imagination. Pain talks about magic, and there are moments where our eyes wish for something slightly fantastical to materialise.

The view inside Pain’s mind is bittersweet, truthful, and scarred, and therefore beautiful. His story is hopeful, yet he seems oblivious to the good around him, and inside of himself. Blinded by fear and dejection, he is a whirling dervish in search of salvation. For us, his magnificent dance is a spiritual lift, and we desire only the best for him, in the trust that a new dawn is always on the approach.

www.sitco.net.au

Review: Event For A Stage (Carriageworks)

rsz_10296577_10154052802420464_5556522318690470678_nVenue: Carriageworks (Eveleigh NSW), May 1 – 4, 2014
Artist: Tacita Dean
Actor: Stephen Dillane

Theatre review
English visual artist Tacita Dean’s Event For A Stage is her first work in the “live theatre” medium. Unsurprisingly, the piece is not concerned with theatrical conventions, and it certainly places no interest on the fabrication of a narrative. The rectangular stage is surrounded by audiences on all 4 sides, and Dean, the artist sits front row with us, in a darkened corner. A big chalk circle is drawn on the stage, with two people operating a film camera within the circle, and another two people outside of it. A microphone is suspended from the fly bars into the middle of the circle. For the duration of the 45-minute work, the actor Stephen Dillane walks around the stage, usually following the chalk line, but uses regular disruptions to the circular stroll to create a sense of action or to emphasise certain points in his monologue.

Over the course of the performance, Dillane walks up to Dean and obtains, with visible resentment, sheets of theatre and performance theory, which he reads aloud, effectively using them as scripts. The writing is insightful and fascinating, and Dillane’s interpretation of them is thoroughly compelling. In addition to Dean’s sheets of paper, Dillane also gives us coherent and interesting accounts of conversations he has had with the artist, or about events and people from his personal life. Further, he reads sections from a slim novel he keeps in his pocket, and performs extracts from Shakespeare’s The Tempest. The work however, is not about stories. Its main crux deals with the nature of theatre and performance, the sociology of spaces in a theatrical venue, and the relational dynamics between artists and audiences.

There are layers upon layers of ideas that are touched upon in this deconstruction of performative spaces. Things get complex, but Dillane’s supreme ability to connect, keeps us from confusion or perplexity. One of the main themes discussed relates to contrivances that arise from the convergence of creators and spectators. The presence of film cameras helps illustrate the point, while simultaneously adding to the multiplicity of the artist’s concepts in its obvious extension into other televised or filmic media. Dillane also talks about the danger that sits below the surface of theatrical artifices, and his close proximity from us is a constant threat to our presumption of security, with the cameras amplifying the stakes at hand.

Event For A Stage approaches theatre with concepts and conventions from the visual art world, in a collision of forms that is fresh and exciting. It seeks not to emulate familiar precedents, but like all great works of theatre, it enthrals, intrigues and informs, even if its subject matter (its self) is a little haughty.
 

www.tacitadean.net

www.carriageworks.com.au

Review: Cruise Control (Ensemble Theatre)

ensembleVenue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Apr 26 – Jun 14, 2014
Playwright: David Williamson
Director: David Williamson
Actors: Helen Dallimore, Michelle Doake, Kate Fitzpatrick, Kenneth Moraleda, Peter Phelps, Henri Szeps, Felix Williamson
Image by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
This review will discuss several key plot details that are controversial and problematic, including the play’s conclusion, which is extremely contentious. If you do not wish to discover specifics of the show, it is advisable that you return to this review after attending the performance.

Cruise Control features 3 married couples on a cruise liner, and their service attendant. The travellers are differentiated by nationality, but they are all of Caucasian appearance. All are wealthy, but the show goes to great lengths to demonstrate their individually distinct characteristics, using the most old fashioned stereotypes to set up dynamics. The posh British, the laid-back Australians, and the elderly Jewish New Yorkers.

Felix Williamson plays British writer Richard Manton, the most outrageously offensive character imaginable. He is pompous, insulting, self-absorbed, and slaps his wife in the face. The man has no redeeming features, but the actor’s work is marvellous, providing scene after scene of tension and frisson. Fiona Manton is played by Michelle Doake who does a good job of providing some dignity to a woman who inexplicably remains in love with an awful man who abuses her. She is successful in her career and owns everything in the Manton household, but bizarrely persists with her dysfunctional marriage. At the end of the voyage, we catch a glimpse of her emancipation due to the sudden death of her husband, only to discover that she is plunging immediately into another relationship with a co-worker who has declared his love via the internet. Doake is a strong actor, but not even Meryl Streep can make this turn of events digestible.

Imogen Brodie is an Australian woman, with no vocation or discernible talent. Played by Helen Dallimore who has excellent presence and timing, Mrs Brodie is an attractive wife, who swans around complaining about her husband and flirting with Richard Manton, and eventually serves as the unwitting seductress who causes the death of Manton. The charismatic Peter Phelps takes on the role of dinky di larrikin Darren Brodie. He is irreverent, spends too much time working on his surf wear business, and is more than a little rough around the edges. He might be covered in tattoos and a “Bra Boy”, but because he tells Manton to stop hitting his wife, gives bottles of expensive champagne to service staff, and refuses to wear a dinner suit, he is depicted as the Aussie with a heart of gold. Phelps might be extremely likeable, but having him commit murder at the very end of the play, and inviting applause for it is completely preposterous.

The Wassermans are played by stage and screen veterans Kate Pitzpatrick and Henri Szeps. Aside from inconsistencies in their New York accents, both put on charming performances and provide all the humour that is required of their characters. Szeps shines in his supporting role, with a brilliant playfulness that makes his character endearing and enjoyable. Fitzpatrick is strong in her role, but she does not escape the uniformly poor representation of females in this outing. Silky Wasserman issues several threats to her cowering husband, constantly talking about divorce only to reveal that her menace is empty and frivolous.

It is arguable whether the explicit identification of the Wasserman’s Jewish heritage is necessary, but there is no question that the inclusion of Filipino cruise attendant Charlie, is problematic. Played by Kenneth Moraleda, Charlie seems to exist purely to show some kind of strange altruistic awareness that there are less fortunate people in the world. He does not participate in the main narratives, except to serve alcohol to the main players. We do however, hear about his struggles at making ends meet, which is totally irrelevant to the stories unfolding. Worse still, the guests make a big gesture of a generous gratuity payment when saying goodbye, further humiliating Charlie’s position of servitude. Also inappropriate is Phelps mimicking a Chinese language when on the phone for business dealings. Many in the opening night crowd did find it funny, but it is clearly nothing more than an archaic stunt that is terribly ill judged.

David Williamson’s writing is loved by many, but this latest work does not live up to that adulation. Several flaws in his directing ability are also exposed, most notably with the inelegant use of space, and frequently awkward handling of scene transitions. There is however, good chemistry between all actors, and the plot does communicate clearly at every point. This is a production that is technically accomplished, with every element of design and performance coming across polished and professional, which makes this lost opportunity even more lamentable.

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: Pride And Prejudice (The Genesian Theatre)

genesianVenue: The Genesian Theatre (Sydney NSW), Apr 26 – Jun 7, 2014
Playwright: Simon Reade (based on the novel by Jane Austen)
Director: Owen Gimblett
Actors: Jena Napoletano, Chris James, Timothy Bennett, Shane Bates, Christopher Butel, Camilla Vernon

Theatre review
Simon Reade’s recent update of the Austen classic is a witty, swiftly-paced adaptation that caters to today’s impatient audiences and our short attention spans. Scenes are short, and humour is planted at every opportunity with just enough subtlety. The Bennett parents especially, are written with an upbeat playfulness that could provide enough comedy for any viewer who might be less inclined towards old fashioned romance.

Timothy Bennett plays Mr Bennett to excellent effect. He is funny, warm and charming, with a confident demeanour that establishes him as the most proficient performer on stage. Bennett’s comic timing is strongest in the cast, and his every appearance is keenly anticipated. Jena Napoletano shows good commitment as Elizabeth Bennett. She gives her role a delightful presence, and works well with other members of the cast who generally suffer from a lack of experience. It is unfortunate that more roles are not taken up by stronger actors, as the script clearly shows great promise.

Notwithstanding the amateur standard of some character portrayals, the Genesian’s Pride And Prejudice is blithesome and enjoyable. It may not live up to our own imagined versions of the much-loved novel, but it is certainly able to give more than a little enchanting reminder of our endearment for sweet Elizabeth and her Mr Darcy.

www.genesiantheatre.com.au

Review: Lies, Love And Hitler (CADA Studio Productions / Sydney Independent Theatre Company)

rsz_photo_by_katy_green_loughrey___llh8___james_scott__langley___doug_chapman__bonhoeffer____flickr___photo_sharing_Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Apr 15 – May 3, 2014
Playwright: Elizabeth Avery Scott
Director: Rochelle Whyte
Actors: James Scott, Doug Chapman, Ylaria Rogers
Image by Katy Green Loughrey

Theatre review
Romance and art are not usually complementary; theirs is a fraught relationship. Art conventions are concerned with all that is deep in the human experience, and romance pursues something that is often inane and fleeting. Elizabeth Avery Scott’s script however, manages to place romance in its centre, and through themes of ethics, politics, history and religion, tells a story that is engaging and intelligent.

Scott’s structure for Love, Lies And Hitler discusses the nature of ethics, and unpacks perennial questions that we face in every ethical dilemma. A parallel is drawn across time and space, between a university lecturer’s love affair with a student, and a German theologian’s involvement in the plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. The stakes are different, but our thought processes are intriguingly similar when determining right from wrong.

With topics like capital punishment, sexual harassment and Nazism put in focus, the play’s solemnity is inescapable. Director Rochelle Whyte handles the play’s dark sides with sensitivity and reverence, and her skill in introducing seamlessly, the apparition of Dietrich Bonhoeffer from 1945, into scenes at a university in modern day Australia is commendable. Less effective are her interpretation of the script’s moments of levity. These are frequently hurried through, and jokes are neglected, resulting in a show that feels heavier than necessary.

Ylaria Rogers plays Hannah and Hermione, displaying great efficiency and simplicity with both characters. Rogers places emphasis on moving the plot along swiftly, and telling her parts of the story clearly, but her portrayals would benefit from greater complexity and presence. James Scott is a very dynamic Paul Langley. His charisma quickly connects him with the audience, and we enjoy the tenacity in his performance, which is confident and thoroughly considered. There is however, a deliberateness to his style that can at times make his character seem less than authentic. Bonhoeffer is played by Doug Chapman, who has a subtle and naturalist approach that contrasts strongly with the other actors, and consequently, and ironically, helps him leave the greatest impression. Chapman provides a healthy counterbalance to the production with his restraint, which is also a quality that keeps us engrossed.

Stories about genocidal persecution and Hitler never dry up. They also never fail to fascinate. Love, Lies And Hitler is a show that entertains and enlightens. We think about our individual ethical boundaries and moral structures, while it seduces us with love stories past and present, and a surprising brand of romance that does not patronise.

www.cada.net.au

Review: The Jungle Book (Emu Productions / King St Theatre)

rsz_1620714_737788869599707_8034336185139306069_nVenue: King Street Theatre (Newtown NSW), Apr 14 – 26, 2014
Book and Lyrics: Markus Weber (based on the original by Rudyard Kipling)
Composer: Michael Summ
Director: Markus Weber
Actors: Maria De Marco, Badaidilaga Maftuh-Flynn, Mark Power, Mandy Fung, Bernard Wheatley, Brett O’Neill, Kyle Stephens
Image by Lorina Stacey Schwenke

Theatre review
Markus Weber and Michael Summ’s version of The Jungle Book is a beautifully-written musical derived from Rudyard Kipling’s famed writings. Familiar characters are retained, and even though these songs are less well-known, they are delightfully catchy and pleasantly melodic.

Markus Weber’s current production is fairly minimal, and relies on the strength of the songs and text to carry the show. Musical arrangements are joyful and effective for most of the material, but several numbers need an update from an unfortunate and uncomfortable 1990s pop/rock sound. Weber’s use of space is thoughtfully varied. The multi-tiered stage is designed well, and used cleverly to keep the attention of the audience. It is noteworthy that although a vast majority of the crowd is very young, the musical has enough content to entertain any adult companion.

There are moments however, where performances falter, and confusion emerges. Even though performances are spirited, calibre of players vary dramatically. The show is designed for children, but the roles are not simple, and it relies heavily on what the actors can bring to the production.

Maria De Marco’s singing voice is strongest in the cast, using it wonderfully to convey the story wonderfully despite not having assistance from microphones. She plays Bagheera, the black leopard who delivers several poignant moments that give the production a necessary shade of gravity. Badaidilaga Maftuh-Flynn plays Mowgli, the only human character. Maftuh-Flynn performs with conviction, and has the gift of being able to portray emotion with great clarity without appearing to be doing very much at all. Brett O’Neill is a vibrant King Louie, the amusingly deluded monkey who never fails to entertain. O’Neill’s energy is big and focused, and his keen sense of comic timing shows him to be the most polished actor on this stage, leaving an excellent impression, notwithstanding the brevity of his appearance.

The Jungle Book‘s message of ecological awareness is a critical one. The anthropomorphism of wildlife imparts to younger generations, values of conservationism that are noble and necessary. Providing children with an understanding that animals are not our slaves or property is a responsibility we must take, if only for our own survival.

www.kingstreettheatre.com.au

Review: Machine (Eclective Productions)

rsz_10245432_622290321179288_1955330957718505088_nVenue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Apr 16 – 20, 2014
Playwright: Melissa Lee Speyer
Director: Rachel Chant
Actors: Lucy Heffernan, David Jackson

Theatre review
Suicide often finds its way into art. It is the most direct contemplation on the value and meaning of life, when questioning “to be or not to be”. Melissa Lee Speyer’s Machine is a pessimistic appraisal of life, and a work that embodies great sensitivity and beauty in its melancholy.

Rachel Scane channels that sense of resignation into her set design.It is basic and cold, but elegantly executed. Together with lighting designer Benjamin Brockman’s work, the space is cleverly transformed into a purgatory of sorts, with a sense of ethereality and impending doom.

Machine‘s story of suicide features Lucy Heffernan as Christine, and David Jackson as her guardian angel. The structure of the play interestingly places focus on the angel who takes us through events in Christine’s life, and her subsequent decision to end it. He also gives the impression from early on, that she is safe in his hands, even in the midst of her depression. As a result, the stakes are never high in the show. The assurance he provides, detaches us from Christine’s predicament, and even though Heffernan’s performance is committed and strong, we do not connect with her suffering. We know that Christine is being watched over, regardless of how things may end. Jackson has conviction in his acting, but the lack of experience and confidence is evident. It is noteworthy however, that Jackson’s smaller subsidiary roles are performed well when he takes the form of Christine’s encounters.

The Angel seems to be the problem. If it is the intention of the artists to create a work that is emotionally involving, we need more access to Christine. Her pain is universal, but we need to feel closer for the drama to work. She has much to divulge, but her Angel shields too much for her, and from us. The girl needs to stand alone.

www.facebook.com/EclectiveProductions

Review: Construction Of The Human Heart (Apocalypse Theatre Company)

rsz_cothh_170Venue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Apr 16 – May 3, 2014
Playwright: Ross Mueller
Director: Dino Dimitriadis
Actors: Cat Martin, Michael Cullen
Image by Matthew Duchesne

Theatre review
We live much of our selves through relationships. Meanings are derived through the way we interact with people who surround us. In these interactions, we create stories through creative processes that require collusion from different kinds of intimacies and relations. In Construction Of The Human Heart, life, theatre and words are at war with stories.The characters Him and Her are in the depths of tragedy, and we see their struggle to connect, to move forward, to remain stagnant, and to be.

Sheets of paper with words are everywhere on the stage. The characters attempt to create narratives with the lines they have written, but coherence is beyond reach and connection is impossible. They fail to find meaning. In their desperation, they devise a myriad scenarios, and forge divergent possibilities, but all lead to disintegration and sorrow.

Ross Mueller’s script is intriguing, seductive, and powerful. Its structure is sophisticated and intelligent, but the emotions it conveys is familiar and immediate. It pleasures the mind with challenging elements, and a whole lot of wit, but it devastates the heart with the truths and emotions it portrays.

Direction in this production is provided by Dino Dimitriadis whose excellent work establishes clarity out of abstraction, and externalises for the audience what is really a deeply introspective exploration. It is strange to term this an entertaining show, but the many gear changes it makes with emotions, keeps us thoroughly engaged and fascinated. Dimitradis’ ability in communicating the script’s many subtle nuances is impressive, but it is doubtless that the strength of his cast assists greatly with the play’s success.

Played by Cat Martin, Her is memorable for the strength she displays. Martin’s portrayal of suffering is cleverly obscured, and her creative decisions never aim for the obvious. The universality of the characters’ experience calls for a depiction of agony that is unexpected, and Martin’s use of humour and stoicism gives her work a beautiful complexity. Michael Cullen is a dynamic Him. Cullen is an energetic performer, with an inviting warmth that quickly endears him to the audience. His performance feels authentic and we cannot help but feel moved by it.

We use words to understand our selves, to connect, and to project our futures. We may also use them to re-write histories, to live in pretense and denial, and to lie. In Construction Of The Human Heart, words show us a truth that is rarely articulated; they are the mirror that reveals the way we operate in the throes of darkness.

www.apocalypsetheatrecompany.com

Review: Dancing Naked In The Backyard (Brave New Word)

bravenewwordVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Apr 15 – 26, 2014
Playwright: C.J. Naylor
Director: Travis Kecek
Actors: Matt Hopkins, Zasu Towle, Estelle Healey, Alan Long, Sam Smith, Sascha Hall, Kara Stewart

Theatre review
Contentious issues in our daily lives can make for great theatre. Dancing Naked In The Backyard explores over-development in suburbia, and attempts to make an argument for population growth control in residential areas. A shady character Reland, spearheads the Sylvan Towers project that will see construction of six-storey apartment blocks on quiet Hinton Street. In opposition is the clean cut Derwent who makes it his mission to stop the project from being approved by local government.

The premise is simple, and the production is plain. The script and direction are straightforward in what they wish to say, but what results is a show that feels overly didactic, and the lack of complexity in their argument makes for scenes that feel repetitive. The themes being discussed are not uninteresting, but the characterisation of Derwent representing good and Reland bad, is too obviously unbalanced and consequently, unconvincing.

Derwent is played by Matt Hopkins who does his best at channelling his character’s conviction into his own performance. The material he works with is not always strong, but he is believable and charming in the role. Hopkins has great presence, and his eagerness in connecting with co-actors gives him a sense of polish, and conveys confidence. Estelle Healey is memorable as the highly idiosyncratic Nancy. At times funny, and at others awkward, she might not always hit her marks but she is definitely a magnetic personality that adds exuberance to the stage.

The play clearly has a point to make, but its one-sided approach can cause its audience to question the validity of the debate at hand. Lamenting the introduction of low rise apartments into an idyllic suburb is romantic, but our daily lives point to a realistic perspective that is not sufficiently represented in the work. Backyards with unobstructed views are very nice to have, and almost everyone dreams of owning one, but when that privilege runs out, and we seek to mourn its disappearance, it is important to first scrutinise the rights we claim to have over this piece of earth we inhabit.

www.bnwtheatre.com.au

Review: Strictly Ballroom (Lyric Theatre)

Venue: Lyric Theatre (Sydney NSW), from Mar 25, 2014
Book: Baz Luhrmann, Craig Pearce
Original Score: Elliot Wheeler
Director: Baz Luhrmann
Choreographer: John O’Connell
Performers: Thomas Lacey, Phoebe Panaretos, Bob Baines, Drew Forsythe, Natalie Gamsu, Robert Grubb, Fernando Mira, Heather Mitchell, Mark Owen-Taylor, Sophia Katos

Theatre review (originally published at auditoriummag.com)
The transformation of Strictly Ballroom into a work for the musical stage is a logical progression. The themes and structure of the film obviously lend themselves to a rendering that would fit readily into the popular genre, and Baz Luhrmann’s penchant for ostentation, flamboyance, and musical numbers in his films makes him a marketer’s dream in this lucrative market.

As an internationally lauded luminary of film imagery, our expectations of production and costume design in his show are understandably high. Fresh from receiving her third and fourth Academy Awards just a month prior to opening night, long-time collaborator Catherine Martin’s work as set and costume designer is irrefutably stunning. Working with already outlandish costumes from the world of ballroom dancing, Martin’s creations take a giant leap forward, into a realm of fairy tales and pure fantasy. There is no requirement for restraint on this stage, and we are treated to the most gloriously colourful and glitzy wigs and costumes that had previously existed only in our dreams.

Martin’s sets are effective and dynamic. The scenes are not located anywhere exotic, but the several suburban venues depicted are created with flair and great imagination. There is very efficient use of space with mobile pieces that work independently, but are also combined for different perspectives. It is not a story that features pyramids, castles or helicopters, but this is a visually arresting stage, which exploits every depth and height that the space can afford, and which sparkles at every corner. There are sequins, paillettes, beads and crystals shimmering at all times, helping to establish an aesthetic that fits in perfectly with this fantastical realm.

Strictly Ballroom embraces wholeheartedly the kitsch value of musicals, and its visual elements are only the beginning. Although it does carefully cater to middle class family audiences, every aspect is expressed through a rejection of banal refinement and conventional good taste. Its story is highly romanticised, the emotions it portrays are brash, the songs are oversweet and obvious, and all performers approach their roles with a sense of unbridled and confident exaggeration. If there is ever a moment for a concoction with this much cheese to work, this would be it, but very unfortunately, the show misses its mark on several levels.

Humour is appropriately peppered throughout the plot. There is much to make fun of, with ridiculous characters and contexts all clearly bearing the promise to deliver laughs, but many of the jokes fall flat. Luhrmann’s direction seems to lack an emphasis on the comedy. Punchlines often do not work, and the atmosphere struggles to keep buoyant. An exception is the role of Liz, played by Sophia Katos, who is memorable as the most consistently funny member of the cast. A number of roles have been created chiefly for comic relief, and Katos’ execution is clearly the strongest.

Leading the cast is Thomas Lacey, an attractive man and a strong dancer, both qualities shared by his character Scott Hastings. Lacey is also an adequate singer, but the scale of the production requires a much more experienced voice that will stand its own amongst all the frenetic activity on stage. Weaker still is Lacey’s acting, which fails to connect him with his love interest, and renders their relationship completely uninteresting and unconvincing. Equally responsible is Phoebe Panaretos, who is admittedly more evenly skilled in the various disciplines of musical theatre, but her lack of charisma in the very central role of Fran is a key disappointment. Panaretos is not a weak performer, but it is evident that she is simply too inexperienced for the challenge bestowed upon her.

Better performances come from the likes of Heather Mitchell, who is endearing as Shirley Hastings, the male protagonist’s mother. Mitchell’s characterisation is vibrant and believable, and although not the strongest of singers, she brings a warmth to the production despite playing someone fairly unpleasant. Also in parental roles are Natalie Gamsu and Fernando Mira, who both impress as characters of Spanish heritage. Gamsu’s distinctive voice is outstanding in a production that seems to have cast performers according to dance ability and appearance, and Mira is a charismatic actor, whose talents as a flamenco dancer are showcased brilliantly, but needs to find greater confidence in his singing.

One of the themes in Strictly Ballroom is the tension between ethnic groups in Australia. This is expressed in the romantic relationship between Fran and Scott, and also in their dance. Their families are depicted in wildly different lights, but both are spirited, joyful and moving. Regretfully, this meaningful and dramatic subject matter is not explored in sufficient depth. The young leads seem too easily accepted by each others’ families, and the penultimate obstacle to their love takes form instead, in the young man’s dilemma about competition dance partners. The opportunity for a more emotive conclusion is sacrificed for one that is more vivacious, but also needlessly frivolous. Ultimately it is the production’s marvelous visual beauty that triumphs, but a three hour show requires more than pleasure for the eyes. It needs to do something for the soul, which discerns the difference between style and substance, and recognises all that glitters is not gold.

www.strictlyballroomthemusical.com