Review: The Harp In The South (Sydney Theatre Company)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre at Walsh Bay (Sydney NSW), Aug 16 – Oct 6, 2018
Playwright: Kate Mulvany (from novels by Ruth Park)
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Joel Bishop, Luke Carroll, Tony Cogin, Jack Finsterer, Benedict Hardie, Emma Harvie, Anita Hegh, Ben O’Toole, Lucia Mastrantone, Heather Mitchell, Tara Morice, Rose Riley, Rahel Romahn, Jack Ruwald, Guy Simon, Bruce Spence, Helen Thomson, Contessa Treffone, George Zhao
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
When Margaret Kilker met Hugh Darcy in 1920, life in rural Trafalgar was idyllic but inert. The couple, both Irish-Australian, young and hopeful, soon headed to Sydney for a brighter future, setting up home in Surry Hills, where they found community, and formed the foundations of a legacy never intended or even imagined.

The Harp In The South is a six-and-a-half hour epic, in two parts, by Kate Mulvany, based on two of Ruth Park’s novels from the 1940’s and another from 1985. Composed mainly of migrant perspectives as experienced by three generations of Irish women, the play offers contemporary audiences a version of our city’s recent history that feels counter-cultural, one that is derived not from contrivances of the establishment, but from stories told by the poor and disadvantaged. All the wonderful things we associate with this city, are built upon the fortitude of those who bear injustice and genuine hardship. Instead of hearing once again about the great white forefathers who take every credit, The Harp In The South restores the voices of forgotten individuals, and places them in the mythical centre of Sydney’s eminence.

Mulvany’s adaptation is exhilarating and witty, replete with irresistible drama, and brimming with inspiration. A palpable soulfulness informs her every manoeuvre, revealing a deep love of the subject and the material, that proves to be completely and profoundly affecting. Although concerned with a cultural specificity, Mulvany’s play contains a sensibility of inclusiveness, that understands the diverse realities of those to whom this story is relevant. The Kilker-Darcy household leads the action, but their truth can only resonate within a context of multiculturalism, and the accompanying portrayals of Indigenous, Chinese, Greek and Italian characters provide not only a degree of ethnological accuracy, they also make an important statement about the way we have, for a long time, sought to share space in harmony.

Director Kip Williams’ vision is exquisite, for a production extraordinary in what it achieves, not only in aesthetic terms, but even more valuable is its promise to galvanise society, through highly persuasive, and sentimental, depictions of our common past, involving all the complexities in our endeavours to be good families, friends and neighbours. Even though the events that unfold are from a different era, every scene rings true, with a familiarity that emanates from its absolute honesty. The Harp In The South is tremendously soulful, and it speaks to all who have an intimate connection with Surry Hills and its surrounds.

Flawlessly designed, the show looks and sounds magnificent. David Fleischer’s sets, Nick Schlieper’s lights and Renée Mulder’s costumes, form an impeccable collaboration delivering theatrical grandeur, with a pervasive and melancholic nostalgia best described as beautiful. Music by The Sweats and sound design by Nate Edmondson, combine new with old, real with abstract, seamlessly cajoling us from one dimension to another, making us laugh and cry at will. The songs we choose to sing, are the truest indication of who we are, and the many melodic renditions of The Harp In The South are like spiritual disclosures, engineered to touch us in the heart and in the mind.

A large cast of actors, play a very large number of characters, each one fabulously evocative, no matter how brief their appearance. Contessa Treffone, marvellous as both Josie and Dolour, is onstage for a substantial portion of this durational challenge, persistently impressive with her spirited and delightful comedy, and triumphant with the integral vulnerability she brings to the show. Margaret and Hugh are brought to life by Anita Hegh and Jack Finsterer, both reliably poignant, but also cuttingly humorous when appropriate. Heather Mitchell too is splendid, and thoroughly amusing, as the matriarch Eny Kilker.

Unforgettably funny, are Benedict Hardie and Rahel Romahn in all their innumerable guises, although Helen Thomson is a clear favourite, unequivocally outstanding with an incomparable volume of laughs, particularly wonderful as the bawdy brothel madam Delie Stock. Lesbian nuns Theopilus and Beatrix are a thrilling pair, performed playfully yet tenderly, by Lucia Mastrantone and Tara Morice, endearing as a sisterly set, and independently formidable in an astonishingly varied range of personalities.

We can proclaim to know ourselves, but art can often surprise with new epiphanies. There is no end to how humanity can understand itself, and it is imperative that we are committed to finding ever greater truths, if we should continue to believe in better tomorrows. We may not be direct descendants of the people in The Harp In The South, but they show us so exhaustively, who we are, as Sydneysiders, as Australians. The shoulders we stand on were not always solid, but all our strength today must be attributed to that past.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

The Harp In The South 2018 Sydney Theatre Company

24Aug2018

Review: Constellations (Chippen Street Theatre)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Chippen Street Theatre (Chippendale NSW), Aug 23 – Sep 1, 2018
Playwright: Nick Payne
Director: Victor Kalka
Cast: Alice Birbara, Henry Hulme
Image by Omnes Photography

Theatre review
In Nick Payne’s Constellations, parallel universes converge in conventional theatrical time, to tell a simple love story. Moments shared by Marianne and Roland, are presented on stage in multiple contradictory manifestations, toying with ideas that disrupt the linearity of our existence, to imagine a nature that is more complex than the typically singular perspectives of how we experience the world.

Director Victor Kalka places appropriate emphasis on the production’s depiction of time, with precisely calibrated lighting and sound cues (executed by a very diligent stage manager, Christopher Starnawski) that provide absolute clarity to how the plot unfolds. There is however, an unfortunate monotony to proceedings, even though the writing provides ample opportunity for a more playful and variable approach to how each scene is performed. Actor Henry Hulme delivers a sense of authenticity with his understated presence as Roland, but a lack of exuberance keeps us alienated. Alice Birbara’s portrayal of Marianne is more animated and inventive, although a greater exploration into the play’s comedy would provide a more satisfying result.

As individual beings, we have little control over how the planet spins, but to believe that fate is beyond manipulation, is to render humanity meaningless. Even if one thinks that all choices we make are predestined, to absolve oneself of responsibilities, is analogous to giving up on life. It is true that we are but a speck in the great scheme of things, and all our successes and failures are ultimately no more than a question of vanity, but if those ephemeral concerns are all we have that would allow our participation in this time and place, then being human is an indulgence we must engage in, with the utmost relish.

www.chippenstreet.com

23Aug2018

Review: Me And My Mother, Singing (Blood Moon Theatre)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Blood Moon Theatre (Potts Point NSW), Aug 22 – 30, 2018
Creator and Performer: Oleg Pupovac
Image by Roman Wolczak

Theatre review
In Oleg Pupovac’s one man show Me And My Mother, Singing, we are invited into a dreamlike consciousness, a waking meditation perhaps, about the creator’s Yugoslavian and Serbian roots. Stories of his past feature heavily, in this work about identity, demonstrating the inextricable relationship between our memories and daily existence. A new dawn always arrives, but we move into each day with personal histories that can be contained but is rarely erased.

Pupovac seeks refuge in art, reaching for his father in paintings of snow, and his mother in folk songs. Trauma is addressed indirectly, for a healing process that can never be hurried, and love is rekindled, if only in the realm of the soul, for a solace that is necessary but that can never completely assuage the experience of loss and longing. It is a satisfying presentation, with multimedia elements offering insight into the most intimate recesses of Pupovac’s mind, and the performer’s own warm charm facilitating an empathy in the audience, even when scenarios turn obscure.

In the creation of his own art, Pupovac manifests a closeness with loved ones, that in turn inspires an appreciation for the complex ways, in which each of us thinks of family and roots. People can seem so different from one another, but underneath the surface are inevitable points of connection that can only endorse our kinship. We like to think ourselves special, and even though individual trajectories are always unique, the infinity of our sameness can never be denied, including, sadly, our age-old propensity to divide.

www.thetwopeas.com

17Aug2018

Review: Mum, Me & The I.E.D. (Collaborations Theatre Group)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: The Depot Theatre (Marrickville NSW), Aug 15 – Sep 1, 2018
Playwright: James Balian, Roger Vickery
Director: Kevin Jackson
Cast: Matilda Brodie, Martin Harper, Elaine Hudson, Philippe Klaus, Joshua Shediak
Images by James Balian

Theatre review
Mary Ellen has been an avowed pacifist since the Vietnam war, but still she was unable to prevent her son from aspiring to become a soldier. When we first meet them, Rob is undergoing treatment for PTSD, as part of the discharge process upon leaving Afghanistan. Mum, Me & The I.E.D. by James Balian and Roger Vickery, is an uncompromising look at the psychological damage inflicted on those we send away to war. The play’s anti-war sentiments are unambiguous and passionate, almost too blatant with their chastisements. Early scenes can feel repetitive, but its latter half turns dynamic, becoming more emotionally involving, as we tune in to Balian and Vickery’s reflections on casualties and their politics.

Director Kevin Jackson demonstrates creative use of space, in this story about intersecting dimensions. The protagonist’s mind is a convergence of confused realities, that Jackson’s staging renders coherent for our benefit. Lighting design by Martin Kinnane proves invaluable in conveying, with remarkable clarity, the many unusual spacial and temporal transformations required of the production.

Actor Philippe Klaus turns up the intensity for the show’s various points of heightened drama, but his performance of Rob’s trauma and suffering can seem slightly affected. His portrayal of a young man’s severe mental deterioration resulting from experiences in the battlefield, are full of conviction, but it is the authenticity in his depictions of family discord and the accompanying anguish, that we find convincing. Mary Ellen is played by Elaine Hudson who delivers a compelling and meaningful sense of depth to the character’s tribulations. Her work feels honest and accurately realistic, often with a surprising restraint that makes things even more believable.

The disadvantaged and the naive are perennially targeted for carrying out the devil’s work, and the world can be a shockingly dangerous place for those poised for independence. We want our young to understand that life is for taking chances, but we fear the irreversible consequences of their mistakes. Mary Ellen and her fierce conscientiousness were no match for the narrative of heroic patriotism that all nations rely on. The heartache that her family has to endure, is a phenomenon centuries old, that we seem determined to perpetuate.

www.facebook.com/CollaborationsTheatreGroup

Mum, Me & The I.E.D. 2018 Collaborations Theatre Group

15Aug2018

Review: Ich Nibber Dibber (Sydney Opera House)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Aug 15 – 19, 2018
Playwrights: Zoë Coombs Marr, Mish Grigor, Natalie Rose
Director: Zoë Coombs Marr, Mish Grigor, Natalie Rose
Cast: Zoë Coombs Marr, Mish Grigor, Natalie Rose
Images by Jacquie Manning

Theatre review
Three goddesses are afloat in white robes, eternal but not quite ethereal. Zoë Coombs Marr, Mish Grigor and Natalie Rose’s Ich Nibber Dibber features quick-fire conversations between old friends, natural and very candid, as though a verbatim recreation of private moments, collated over two or so decades. Confidences between close friends that are never meant for public consumption, bawdy and reckless, occupy centre stage to claim a position of dominance for the oft-neglected notion of female subjectivity. It is an exercise in rejecting the gaze, and of women asserting a perspective that is wholly about self-determined existences.

Audacious in its imagination of a post-feminist era, its accompanying politics are confident but subdued. Instead of overt investigations into meanings of gender, the play emphasises its comedy, and through that brazen attitude of subversive recalcitrance, Ich Nibber Dibber encourages us to laugh on our own terms, and by inference, to laugh at patriarchy. The show is thoroughly amusing, with its creators proving to be highly persuasive presences, as they jubilantly perform their defiance.

The women are unequivocally real, but they are also otherworldly, with a circularity to their experience of time that offers a glimpse into a future universe beckoning us to catch up. Michael Hankin’s set and costumes, along with Fausto Brusamolino’s lights, orchestrate this magical encounter between profane and divine, presenting imagery that reminds us of the transcendence we are all capable of. Music and sound by James Brown facilitate our connection with the storytellers, and then disturb our peace to keep us thinking.

It is believed that male desire in all its forms, have determined how we conceive of ourselves, but what had seemed inescapable, can now be put through a process of reconditioning. To extricate our own desires from those of the other, is likely an inexhaustible task, and because a woman’s work of resistance is never done, it is that ongoing project of continual redefinition and ever new formations of identities that can lead us to greater autonomy.

www.postpresentspost.com | www.sydneyoperahouse.com

Ich Nibber Dibber 2018 Sydney Opera House

5Aug2018

Review: King Of Pigs (Old Fitz Theatre)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Aug 1 – Sep 1, 2018
Playwright: Steve Rodgers
Director: Blazey Best
Cast: Mick Bani, Wylie Best, Christian Byers, Ashley Hawkes, Ella Scott-Lynch, Kire Tosevski
Images by John Marmaras

Theatre review
Actor Ella Scott-Lynch plays several characters, in this work about men’s violence against women. She embodies different personalities, but what they encounter in Steve Rodgers’ King Of Pigs, are essentially the same. The current climate of fervent interrogation into matters relating to gendered abuse, requires the male of our species to confront hard truths about their behaviour. It is a time of reflection and re-evaluation, and the play speaks directly to their conscience, asking them to examine the imbalances inherent in heterosexual dynamics.

It is an earnest work, perhaps too simplistic and obvious in style, but the urgency to make a point is certainly evident. Stories in King Of Pigs are very familiar, and although predictable, they still are able to have an impact. Direction by Blazey Best is suitably grave in tone, with a meticulousness to its naturalism that holds our interest. Isabel Hudson’s set and Verity Hampson’s lights collude to offer a sense of theatricality for the intimate situations under scrutiny, both effective in conveying a quality of ominous danger to the plot.

Scott-Lynch is convincing in all of her roles, each one thought-provoking, with little reliance on sentimentality. Kire Tosevski and Wylie Best provide strong partnership in family scenes that offer momentary consolation, through their warm rendering of a loving home, placed precariously alongside damaging relationships. Mick Bani, Christian Byers and Ashley Hawkes play the three perpetrators, each with memorable instances of character vagaries that point to pertinent questions about masculinity.

It is never easy to have those who hold power understand the depravity that results from their dominance. For sexism to be quelled, men have to participate in the feminist project, which although ultimately benefits all, many will perceive to be a threatening relinquishment of power. A world without the problems of gender requires a great number of processes, all of which can only be initiated by epiphanies derived from opportunities like King Of Pigs.

www.redlineproductions.com.au

King Of Pigs 2018 Old Fitz Theatre

4Aug2018

Review: Torch Song Trilogy (Darlinghurst Theatre Company)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Eternity Playhouse (Darlinghurst NSW), Aug 1 – 26, 2018
Playwright: Harvey Fierstein
Director: Stephen Colyer
Cast: Hilary Cole, Simon Corfield, Imraan Daniels, Tim Draxl, Stephen Madsen, Kate Raison, Phil Scott
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
It is the perfect time to revisit Harvey Fierstein’s Torch Song Trilogy. The play premiered in New York 1982, right before the AIDS crisis crippled the LGBT community. Fierstein’s vision was full of hope, daring to see queer people break into the mainstream, with portrayals of gay men in serious monogamous relationships, thriving in family units that incorporate legally adopted children.

Almost immediately after the completion of this work, the LGBT movement experienced a setback of at least thirty years, finding itself in a new fight, in many ways even harder than before, with the world laying the blame of AIDS entirely on us. What had been a burgeoning era of equality post-Stonewall was all but decimated. Today’s revival is an appropriate resumption of progress; much of the West has now succumbed to the demand for marriage equality, and that discussion about marginalised identities gaining parity not only of rights, but also respect, can now once again be sincerely salient.

Actor Simon Corfield plays Arnold, a gay Jewish New Yorker, whose resilience forms the centrepiece of this saga. Corfield’s performance is often very moving; his depictions of suffering are absolutely enthralling, ensuring that the show’s politics remain foregrounded. Comedy aspects, however, are less consistently rendered. Kate Raison offers a redemptive energy boost, with her potent entrance in the third act as Arnold’s mother, restoring lustre to the play’s humour. Incidental songs are magnificently presented by Hilary Cole and Tim Draxl, accompanied by Phil Scott’s exquisite piano playing. Both singers use music to their magical advantage and leave remarkable impressions, enhanced by strong acting in their roles as Laurel and Ed.

The production can at times be insufficiently ebullient, but an authentic soulful quality permeates, and sustains, all the action. It is a visually sumptuous staging, boldly lit by Benjamin Brockman, whose extravagant approach for Torch Song Trilogy imbues it with a captivating sense of theatricality. There is a beautiful melancholy to director Stephen Colyer’s style that adds a richness to the play’s concerns; Arnold never dwells on his pain, but Colyer insists that we see all of it.

Back in the day, the idea that gay men could start their own normative family lives, was a completely subversive notion. Today, it can still be a surprising thought, although some of us are more taken aback, by the fact that any queer person would choose an existence that seems so ordinary. For LGBT people in places with adequate legal protection, our choices are broader than ever before. Some want to emulate their parents, others wish to break new ground, and most would probably find their peace somewhere in between the extremes. The whole point of this long battle, is so that people can become whomever they desire. Love thy neighbour as you love thyself, no matter how different they appear to be.

www.darlinghursttheatre.com

Torch Song Trilogy 2018 Darlinghurst Theatre Company

2Aug2018

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

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

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.

www.ensemble.com.au

The Widow Unplugged Or An Actor Deploys 2018 Ensemble Theatre

1Aug2018

Review: The Almighty Sometimes (Griffin Theatre Company)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Jul 27 – Sep 8, 2018
Playwright: Kendall Feaver
Director: Lee Lewis
Cast: Penny Cook, Brenna Harding, Shiv Palekar, Hannah Waterman
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Anna started medication for mental illness at the age of 8. Ten years later, and no longer a child, she decides, on her own accord, to suddenly discontinue the drugs. The repercussions are dire, of course, and as she unravels, her relationships convulse and deteriorate, revealing the social value of those pharmaceuticals. In Kendall Feaver’s The Almighty Sometimes, we see sickness from the perspective of the one personally afflicted, as well as the wider reverberations of what is usually considered an isolated condition. Much of what the play conveys is not new information, but its characters are extraordinarily conceived, each one authentic and rich in their depiction, with very persuasive scenes of conflict that provide The Almighty Sometimes its excellent sense of drama.

It is a fiery piece of theatre, featuring high stakes and big emotions, that director Lee Lewis integrates powerfully for a tense, affecting experience. The play features a lot of fighting, but it is really the intense love underscoring the strife and angst, that we connect with. Actor Brenna Harding is marvellous as Anna, complex but precise in her interpretation of a difficult personality, allowing us to comprehensively understand and empathise with her plight. Whether delicate or savage, Harding is full of enthralment, and we luxuriate in the diligence she brings to the stage.

Similarly captivating is Hannah Waterman, who plays Renee the long-suffering mother, with an impressive nuance, delivering a realistic and moving portrait of a woman at wits end, but who remains determined to do her best. The resilient spirit being presented is embodied, very convincingly, by Waterman’s compelling presence. Penny Cook and Shiv Palekar offer excellent support, both creating intriguing roles that give the issues at hand, unexpected dimensions, for a show memorable for its intricacy. Also noteworthy is work on music and sound by Russell Goldsmith, who keeps us on tenterhooks, with subtle and steady manipulations to atmosphere that prove to be immensely potent.

We look to medical professionals to fix us, often forgetting that there is no one ideal for how we should live. When discussing mental health, our subjective opinions have to find ways that can accommodate both the patient’s well-being and its impact on the wider community. If what is best for society is incongruous, with what individual sufferers consider to be best for themselves, that negotiation will turn persistently fraught. Anna’s sickness consumes herself, along with all who come in close contact. The Almighty Sometimes demonstrates unambiguously that mental health is a social issue, and if we are unable, as a nation, to focus on both cure and prevention, it will be a failure to truly be ashamed of.

www.griffintheatre.com.au

The Almighty Sometimes 2018 Griffin Theatre Company

GRIFFIN_TheAlmightySometimes_ImageBrettBoardmanBB2_3361

31Jul2018

Review: Yarramadoon The Musical (Aya Productions)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Jul 25 – Aug 11, 2018
Book: Eliza Reilly, Hannah Reilly
Songs: Matthew Predny, Eliza Reilly, Hannah Reilly
Directors: Eliza Reilly, Hannah Reilly
Cast: Matthew Predny, Eliza Reilly, Hannah Reilly
Images by Indiana Kwong

Theatre review
Shelly might only be sixteen, but she has had enough of her country town. The bright lights of big city Sydney beckons, but first, Shelly has to deal with forces at home determined to keep her from the freedoms of the metropolis. Eliza Reilly and Hannah Reilly’s Yarramadoon is about a girl daring to dream; a diamond in the rough on her way to discovering her full potential. There is admittedly nothing extraordinary in that well-worn narrative, but the Reillys’ idiosyncratic comedy style proves irresistible, in this joyful take of the musical theatre genre.

Strictly for urban audiences, Yarramadoon is a scathing satire of life in the many backwater corners of Australia, where big mouths and narrow minds reign supreme. Songs by Matthew Predny and the Reillys are exuberant and effectively concise. It is a jaunty show, consistently witty, with many instances of inventiveness that truly delight. Lighting designer Martin Kinnane brings an excellent sense of dynamism to the plot, moving us between dimensions with great efficiency. The cast’s approach to performance is highly mischievous, and we get hopelessly swept up in their very compelling shenanigans. Eliza Reilly is particularly memorable as Shelly, confident in her extravagant sense of humour, and surprising with the depth she is able to convey, in what initially seems to be an unexceptional role.

When Shelly eventually lands in Sydney, there is no guarantee that she will find everything she had longed for, but the satisfaction that will come with her new autonomy is unequivocal. If we tell our girls that the world is their oyster, they must also be encouraged to explore the wilderness. The grass may or may not be greener on the other side; the key is to have the gumption to go and find out.

www.belvoir.com.au