Review: Hamlet At The Bottle-O (Blood Moon Theatre)


Venue: Blood Moon Theatre (Potts Point NSW), May 15 – 26, 2018
Playwright: Pat H Wilson
Director: Adrian Barnes
Cast: Nick Mercer
Image by Marek Wojt

Theatre review
Like most of us who pursue careers in the arts, Nick is an actor who has to hold down a “real job” to pay the bills. Managing a bottle shop may not be his favourite occupation, but he does it well, in between sneaky practice sessions for imminent auditions. There are five short scenes in Pat H Wilson’s Hamlet At The Bottle-O Or The Wineshop Monologues, with Nick relaying amusing but inconsequential stories about colourful personalities and quaint occurrences at his workplace.

The one-man show features actor Nick Mercer, charismatic and highly energetic in a simple work that demands little more than an enthusiastic familiarity with the text. Mercer proves himself an engaging presence, but the material is limiting in terms of character development, and the proficiency that we encounter never progresses beyond its somewhat basic requirements. The cordial man behind the wineshop counter has a simple job ringing up your purchase, and the performer too, on this occasion, needs only be pleasant, and he passes with flying colours.

We are more than the jobs we do, but often it is how we are employed that determines our identity in the eyes of the world. People can be useful to society in a myriad ways, and it is what we contribute that allows others to form an understanding of who we are. It is however, equally important that the individual knows the self beyond the face that they present on the outside. Most know Nick as the affable bottle-o guy, but Nick knows that he is capable of very much more.

www.bloodmoontheatre.com

Review: Kiss Of The Gallery Guard (Scene Theatre Sydney)

Venue: Sydney Philharmonia Choirs Hall (Walsh Bay NSW), May 11 – 26, 2018
Playwright: Carol Dance
Director: Murray Lambert
Cast: Justin Amankwah, Jesse Northam, Chloe Schwank, Cara Severino
Images by John Leung

Theatre review
After making the local news in less than dignified fashion, Amber leaves her rural town in shame, and lands a job in a city art gallery. Carol Dance’s Kiss Of The Gallery Guard asks if it is possible for the leopard to change its spots, and through its own discussions about the ever evolving meanings of art, the play looks at the constantly mutating quality of human nature, in relation to art objects that are characterised as stable and inanimate.

It is a concept worthwhile of exploration, but Kiss Of The Gallery Guard has a plot structure that tends to be overly tangential, with a writing style that mature audiences will find too expositional. Performers for the show are not short of conviction, although their exaggerated approach can interfere with the authenticity that they attempt to bring to the narrative. Cara Severino is a delightful presence as Amber, impressive with the detail she brings to the role, even if the excessively animated mode of presentation is a blemish.

The ephemeral nature of theatre, is what sets it apart from other art forms. A work can always be revisited, revised and remounted, and no two shows can ever be exactly the same. People will grow, and artists will transform. Much as we are inclined to hold unshifting opinions about others, we also know that the world is a surprising place, and people will always have the potential to evade underestimations.

www.kissofthegalleryguard.net.au

Review: The Sugar House (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), May 5 – Jun 3, 2018
Playwright: Alana Valentine
Director: Sarah Goodes
Cast: Sheridan Harbridge, Sacha Horler, Lex Marinos, Josh McConville, Kris McQuade, Nikki Shiels
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Narelle is the first of her family to go to university. Growing up under her grandmother June’s strict guidance, Narelle carries the hopes of generations of McCreadies, whose existences in Sydney have struggled persistently with poverty and criminality. In Alana Valentine’s The Sugar House, we observe the life story of one Sydneysider and her family, alternating between the years 1966, 1985 and 2007, watching the evolution of Narelle along with this city, forming an understanding of our own growth and gradual gentrification.

Our daily endurance of life in one of the world’s most expensive cities, can often delude us into believing only in its sophistication and varnished veneers. We try hard to forget its past, particularly in relation to invasions and genocide, as well as the deep seated impact of convict and refugee immigration. We imagine ourselves to be worldly and refined, and become precious in our embodiment of this glamoured image. In some ways, this is what June had always wanted for Narelle. Breaking the poverty cycle, might have meant for the matriarch, an end to suffering and injustice, but Narelle and our reality in Sydney today, has serious complications that she probably never foresaw.

The play is unmistakably sentimental, with sounds in its dialogue that are authentic and profoundly beautiful. The plot does meander slightly, but vivid personalities keep us attentive and intrigued. The Sugar House is passionately constructed, by playwright Valentine and director Sarah Goodes, who establish a soulfulness for the production that forms its irresistible allure. It talks about our community, the forgotten and hidden parts of it, with a refreshing honesty that many will find engaging. Narelle’s story is not all our stories, but no Sydneysider can escape the reverberations of her family’s experience.

Actor Sheridan Harbridge is a charming Narelle, persuasive at all ages but especially impressive with her sensitive portrayal of the 8 year-old version, impeccable in her presentation of a child full of intelligence and infectious life. June is played by the very compelling Kris McQuade, whose powerful combination of warmth and austerity, gives anchor, and accuracy, to a play concerned with history and accountability. Sacha Horler delivers a stunning performance in the supporting role of Margo, Narelle’s mother, depicting immense and glorious strength alongside the incessantly cruel torment she tolerates.

The stage is flanked on two sides by tall, mid-century windows (elegantly created by set designer Michael Hankin) demarcating a space that can be read either as glossy and new, or coarse and antiquated, depending on the scenes taking place before them. How we think of our city, should be similarly complex and heterogeneous. Our surface wishes to project a certain ideal, and that represents one truth of Sydney, which has emerged from our earnest aspirations, but layers beneath contain aspects that many have less pride for. Regrettable and shameful pasts make people rewrite histories. Lies can be used to mislead others, but the more that we try to deny ourselves the real stuff that we are made of, the more we will feel the emptiness in its place.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: Good Cook. Friendly. Clean. (Griffin Theatre Company)

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), May 4 – Jun 16, 2018
Playwright: Brooke Robinson
Director: Marion Potts
Cast: Fayssal Bazzi, Tara Morice, Kelly Paterniti
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Sandra says and does everything right, but ends up failing at every housemate interview, unable to find a place to live. Brooke Robinson’s Good Cook. Friendly. Clean. features a heartbreaking series of scenes depicting Sandra at those interviews, being rejected for no ostensible reason, other than the fact that she is a middle aged woman battling cancer. This is what we, as a people, have come to. The play is a fierce indictment of Sydney, and cities like it, where inhabitants have allowed money, and access to property, turn us into monsters that spend our entire lives trying to devour real estate and accumulate wealth, without any consideration for those among us who have basic needs yet to be fulfilled.

All Sandra needs is a home. Her budget although modest, is reasonable, but we discover, quite literally, that no one wants her. Playwright Robinson has identified something so ugly but so accurate, about modern Australia, and the reflection she offers up through the mirror of her play, is so hideous, it is almost unbearable to watch. We do of course, find ourselves mesmerised by the car crash scenario, a human catastrophe unfolding before our eyes, powerfully directed by Marion Potts who never once lets us off the hook. Potts shows us not only that the system is broken, but the individuals who operate within said system, people like us, are revealed to be the degenerates that we often are; selfish, uncaring and cruel, participants in a rat race that will inevitably deliver more losers than winners.

In the central role is Tara Morice, who retains for Sandra a sense of dignity, whilst telling a compelling story of desperate despondency. It is a splendid performance, rigorously gauged to provoke just the right response from her audience, not only of compassion, but also a more deliberate and contemplative one, involving the way we think about our interactions with the needy in real life, and also to picture what it would be like, should we one day, find the shoe on the other foot. Fayssal Bazzi and Kelly Paterniti play a variety of roles, mostly unsavoury types, to excellent effect. Whether eccentric or plainly despicable, the pair keeps us attentive, always anticipating the worst, but masochistically enjoying the black comedy that inevitably arises. It is a tight trio on this stage, confident and sleek with a presentation that is as entertaining as it is hard-hitting.

The negative byproducts of our capitalism are evident, but it seems we are too far gone, to be able to imagine a radical turn around. It is a system that demands pragmatism, leading us to act only with self-interest and greed. Sandra is not a home owner, maybe by choice or maybe by circumstance, and we watch her being punished for not playing by the rules. We are all required to want the same, and any deviation can mean disaster, yet the competition that we are all meant to participate in, is predicated on the dispossession of many. This is part of a very big debate that has gone on for decades. Words will continue firing from all sides, but efforts to find solutions that will make life better, for the greatest number of people, will also persist. Kindness may no longer cost us nothing, but it is a price we must be willing to pay.

www.griffintheatre.com.au

Review: Shirley Valentine (Ensemble Theatre)

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

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

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

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

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

www.ensemble.com.au

Review: The Readers (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), May 5 – 19, 2018
Playwright: Scott Smart
Director: Elizabeth Nabben
Cast: Anni Finsterer, John McNeill, Scott Smart
Images by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
It is tempting to judge ourselves by things we read in the news. The extremities of society, whether the great successes or our dismal failures, give a powerful impression of the people we are, but routinely neglected are the smaller stories of millions of individuals, those that offer a more accurate picture of daily Australian life. Scott Smart’s The Readers puts focus on those who make up the regular working class, the ones who rarely make the papers.

Peter and Lachlan read electricity metre boxes for a living, going about their business with little fuss or drama. They are two white men who seem to suffer no disadvantage, but their lives are not without challenges. In our current state of accelerating capitalism, what were once perfectly respectable jobs, are gradually turned humiliating. The play shows the insidious nature of how money is allowed to compromise the dignity of our workers. Peter and Lachlan have rules to abide by, but not all of them are reasonable.

The production is elegantly directed by Elizabeth Nabben, who manifests a quiet charm around her characters and situations. It seems society has accepted that employers will, by some degree, infringe upon their staff, and The Readers embodies a quality of nonchalance that reflects that reality. Working for someone does not mean that one becomes a stakeholder, one simply becomes an instrument of functionality, and will have to accept a certain amount of dehumanisation within their prescribed responsibilities. It is the profit motive that takes precedence, rather than the welfare of our communities.

John McNeill and Scott Smart play the key roles, both subtle but strong with their humour, delivering excellent nuance for this gentle piece of theatre. They form an amusing duo, comedic but also poignant, without having to reach for creative choices that may be too obvious. The third wheel Annie, a flimsy character with arguably unconvincing traits, is performed by Anni Finsterer who plays up the silliness to great effect, for moments of extraordinary hamminess that prove surprisingly delightful.

In The Readers, we see that the only thing trickling down from top to bottom, is the anxiety of business ownership. Profits, on the other hand, remain exclusively within the upper crust. Managers do not hesitate to exert pressure on those who have to put in the hard yards, but only shareholders stand to gain monetary wise. Peter and Lachlan never complain. Like most of our work force, people accept their lot, accustom to the feeling of disempowerment. We are taught to work hard, to grin and bear it, in order that rewards may be delivered. That belief is not a lie, but it is clearly not the entire truth.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: Yours The Face (Blood Moon Theatre / LZA Theatre)

Venue: Blood Moon Theatre (Potts Point NSW), May 1 – 12, 2018
Playwright: Fleur Kilpatrick
Director: Liz Arday
Cast: Daniela Haddad
Image by Liz Arday

Theatre review
Emmy is a female fashion model, and Peter is a male photographer. They meet on a job in London, both excited to be visiting from abroad, and both finding themselves attracted to one another. We watch nervously, waiting for disaster to strike, predicting the inevitable in this tale of power imbalance, but Fleur Kilpatrick’s Yours The Face refuses to fit into the mould. It is a relief to see Emmy resist being infantilised, that her sexuality and sense of self are presented as valid, even if the structures that she operates within are problematic.

The work challenges us to think about institutionalised sexism, whilst it presents individuals who seem blameless and who look to be acting with agency. It questions our participation in industries that thrive on inequity, making us think about the meaning of responsibility, in situations when acting in accordance with what is considered legal and permissible, are arguably ethically inadequate.

Daniela Haddad plays both roles, and proves herself sufficiently prepared, but the actor’s inexperience is evident in the demanding work. Positioned in front of a screen, with projections accompanying her entire performance, Haddad’s face is often obscured by the imagery, and we find ourselves routinely distracted by competing visual elements. Director Liz Arday’s concepts are strong, and they make for a show that is ultimately thought-provoking and rewarding, but the production is certainly demanding of its audience’s ability to concentrate.

When we are not actively taking down and taking over old systems, our involvement only serves to sustain them. There will be benefits that come with playing by the rules, but hidden costs have to be examined, and measured against what we deem to be genuinely decent. What Emmy and Peter do, are conventional and accepted, in fact they stand to become rich and famous if the stars align, but in Yours The Face, we observe that all is not well. Disease festers and exacerbates, when we choose only to pay attention to all that glitters.

www.lza-theatre.xyz | www.bloodmoontheatre.com

Review: Youth And Destination (Manifesto Theatre Company)

Venue: Kings Cross Theatre (Kings Cross NSW), Apr 27 – May 12, 2018
Playwright: James Raggatt
Director: James Raggatt
Cast: Jack Angwin, Georgia Blizzard, Gloria Bose, Julia Christensen, Maree Cole, Skyler Ellis, Alex Malone, Bardiya McKinnon, Nikita Waldron, Ross Walker
Images by Emily Havea

Theatre review
There is no conventional narrative in James Raggatt’s Youth And Destination, only a series of short sequences that offer insight into his young mind. The brevity of scenes allows the playwright to touch on a broad range of topics over the course of an hour, but the format prevents sufficient depth from being reached, aside from occasional dialogue that might inspire a sense of intrigue that encourages us to see beyond the mundane.

There is much to admire in the young; they are often inquisitive, passionate and fearless. Wisdom, although never restricted to the mature, can however be elusive. On this occasion, thoughts expressed are honest and very earnest, but the lack of life experience is evident, and Raggatt’s attempts at circumspection will not be able to satisfy every member of audience. Some nonetheless, will see themselves accurately reflected, in this work by young people, for young people.

An exceedingly pleasant group of actors prove themselves accomplished, with no fiction to perform but instead, putting on stage a convincing semblance of the self. In the absence of more complex story lines, their task is to make compelling, snippets of modernity, whether banal or extraordinary. Star of the show is not an actor, but lighting designer Martin Kinnane, whose aesthetic inventiveness and technical excellence, bring to the production a necessary polish, along with rigorous calibrations of mood, from scene to scene.

The young can tell us so much about the world, but pinning down the meaning of life, is not usually their strongest suit. Youth And Destination is a sensitive work, slightly overcautious with how it wishes to be perceived. Whether young or old, we all have to grapple with how others look upon us; we are so fundamentally social. It is incumbent on the artist however, to be courageous, and to always be revealing of their own truth, especially that which is unique and idiosyncratic in quality. Few can claim to speak for communities, but when we return to the individual in an exhaustive and meticulous way, what we say about the personal can become unimaginably significant.

www.kingsxtheatre.com.au

Review: Still Point Turning: The Catherine McGregor Story (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), Apr 21 – May 26, 2018
Playwright: Priscilla Jackman
Director: Priscilla Jackman
Cast: Nicholas Brown, Andrew Guy, Chantelle Jamieson, Ashley Lyons, Heather Mitchell, Georgina Symes
Images by Philip Erbacher

Theatre review
For those of us who are transgender, the experience of life is always a little bit extraordinary. Radically othered, by virtue of the fiercely homogenising quality of gender, there is a part of us that cannot help but perceive things from the periphery, whether we feel ourselves to be accepted or marginalised. Catherine McGregor is a media star, in many ways Australia’s answer to Caitlyn Jenner, both sixty-something, both extremely privileged and established in their professional fields, and both coming out as trans in spectacular fashion in the 2010s. They are not trailblazers by any means, for we have existed since the dawn of humankind (assuming gender had existed from the very beginning), but their stories coincide with a particular time in Western history, when being trans is suddenly a thing to celebrate.

This new interest in our identities contains unquestionably, a hint of the freak show; we often find ourselves a curiosity that everybody else feels as though they finally have license to poke and prod at. It can be argued however, that we are the ones who have demanded attention be paid to our difference, in this, for many, lifelong battle for approval and recognition. In Priscilla Jackman’s Still Point Turning, a delicious balance is struck, in which the object of our gaze is simultaneously accommodating and commanding. The audience is intrusive, but at the protagonist’s insistence. She proclaims to not want the responsibilities of being a poster-girl for the movement, but presents herself with blunt candidness and a fearless embrace of the prying spotlight. The work is “based on interviews with Catherine McGregor”, and she is very forthright with her disclosures.

It is a political and benevolent act, but also narcissistic (as she admits), and that seemingly dissonant combination provides a potent vitality for playwright and director Jackman, whose creation here proves to be a remarkably rich piece of theatre. The show satisfies our need for the sordid and gossipy, allowing us into the profoundly personal struggles of a public figure, whilst offering some of the most informative and thought-provoking content of any biographical account. For a play about a personality whose interests are in sport and the military, Still Point Turning is perhaps surprisingly entertaining, relentlessly so, but its true value is in its frank and unembellished, and thus rare, depiction of a transgender experience.

We may not have arrived at a point where a story of this nature does not bear the burden of having to make that desperate plea for understanding, and we find McGregor’s suffering often occupying front and centre of the stage (alongside her charming sense of humour) but it is noteworthy that the show does go quite a distance beyond an exploitative depiction of trans tragedy. Societal progress can be observed in its ability to discuss its issues inquisitively and genuinely, offering perspectives that are less emotional and more sincerely exploratory. For audiences of all persuasions, the play’s statements and contemplations about how each of us negotiates gender (and other identity markers or constraints) is a rewarding opportunity for deep reflections about our places in social life; who we think we are, how we wish to be perceived, and the things we do to create a persona that each can be personally content with.

The production is passionate and polished, with clever lighting by Nick Schlieper creating comfortable shifts between time and space, whilst helping contain an unnecessarily large performance area. Music and sound by Steve Francis are conventional but highly effective in their calibrations of atmosphere. Designer Michael Scott-Mitchell’s costumes are simple but very smart, with the lead’s pristine white Carla Zampatti suit a breathtaking, memorable design feature.

Actor Heather Mitchell delivers a brilliant performance in the starring role; intelligent and insightful with her dramaturgy, impressively precise, bold in presence, and gloriously funny. Eminently convincing and disarmingly charismatic, we cannot take our eyes off of her. Her Catherine is fascinating and delightful, and we almost wish for the show not to end, if only to retain her company. A supporting ensemble of five effervescent players add to the fun, each one independently compelling and endearing, but wonderfully cohesive as a team, thick as thieves and marvellously engaging.

Even though Catherine McGregor has accomplished a great deal in her illustrious life as journalist, cricket commentator and military officer, the woman presented in these 100 minutes of Still Point Turning is defined principally by her transness. Whether or not this is an accurate depiction of McGregor’s own truth, it is an intriguing proposition that one’s fundamental sense of identity can be so firmly attached to ideas of gender. It is perhaps a consequence of unyielding persecution, of oppression and cruel humiliation, that what should only be an incidental element of a person’s being, is turned into a subsuming component.

McGregor puts blame on no one, talking only about transphobia as a personal demon, but the undeniable truth remains, that when we harm ourselves, it is always a result of conditioning by the outside. It is easy to think of McGregor as a person who has it all, and as such, we require that she expresses only humility and gratitude. However, the prejudice that all trans people continue to be subject to, range from insidious to barbaric. It is pervasive, even in progressive regions, and there is no doubt that we must always take the opportunity, to step up to defend the rights of our transfolk. To be visibly trans is crucial to our progress, and Cate’s indomitable capacity for attention, is to be admired and more importantly, emulated.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Effect (Old Fitz Theatre)

Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Apr 18 – May 19, 2018
Playwright: Lucy Prebble
Director: Andrew Henry
Cast: Emilie Cocquerel, Firass Dirani, Emma Jackson, Johnny Nasser
Image by John Marmaras

Theatre review
Connie and Tristan are participants in a medical trial involving antidepressants. Temporarily shut off from the world, they live inside a science facility with only each other for company, and very quickly develop a strong romantic connection. Lucy Prebble’s The Effect is interested in the chemical aspects of what we understand to be human nature, and the moral implications of drugs we design to alter our experience of life. It poses questions about what we consider to constitute authenticity in being human, and looks at the ways in which we place value on things we term natural and synthetic.

The play is ridden with anxiety, fuelled by the pervasive scepticism we have of pharmacology and the money around it, but a puerile disquiet is undeniably present, that relies on reductive ideas presupposing the natural to always be unquestionably better. The Effect features scene after scene of tense drama, which director Andrew Henry is certainly not averse to amplifying at every opportunity for maximum theatricality. Alexander Berlage’s lights are accordingly bold and intrepid, effective in delivering some memorably stark imagery. The show is often gripping, with an intensity that sustains our attention, but its arguments are not always persuasive. It arouses intrigue, without providing sufficient rationale for us to feel satisfied with the statements it attempts to make.

Actor Johnny Nasser brings valuable subtlety to the role of Toby, alternating between good and bad guy, for a sense of complexity that resonates with truth, in this discussion of mental health and modern medicine. Other players have a significantly more grandiose approach, that can restrict us from reaching a greater understanding of the text’s nuances. Their extravagant gestures make for an energetic performance, but our access to the psychology of characters is consequently limited. The Effect contains philosophy that matters to us all, although a more detailed conveyance of meanings would be necessary for the production to affect us deeper.

As we watch ourselves being challenged by medicine, unable to submit easily to the science, we see an obstinate belief in a state of purity, and are prompted to interrogate the validity of our trust in naive ideals associated with all things “natural”. It is also similarly evident that when individuals are called upon to put their lives in the hands of others, trust is an issue that can never be made completely unassailable. Underlying these thoughts are fears that reflect our need for self-preservation. We can doubtless see the insignificance of the human race in the widest scheme of things, but our indomitable hunger for control seems essential to how we think and act, even when we know the futility of our efforts.

www.redlineproductions.com.au