Review: Mojo (Sydney Theatre Company)

mojoVenue: Wharf 1 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), May 17 – Jul 5, 2014
Playwright: Jez Butterworth
Director: Iain Sinclair
Cast: Tony Martin, Lindsay Farris, Eamon Farren, Ben O’Toole, Josh McConville
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review (originally published at auditoriummag.com)
When boys grow up and begin to find their feet in the adult world as men of stature, the acquisition of masculinity often becomes critically important. The characters in Jez Butterworth’s Mojo seem to spend all their waking moments satisfying that overwhelming and insatiable need to be seen and treated as men of worth, and in the London underground gangland of the late 1950s, this involves unthinkable violence, and outrageous criminality. Butterworth’s daring and extravagantly brutal 1995 script illustrates a world of sex, drugs and rock and roll, where sons are raped, fathers are murdered, and honour is maleficently displaced.

Butterworth’s work starts up in high gear. He gets to the mayhem quickly without setting up thorough introductions for its story. There is a disorientation that occurs in the beginning, and the viewer is required to be alert, in order to decipher manic events while keeping up with the fantastically rich dialogue. Iain Sinclair’s direction in the initial scenes emphasises speed and energy, which can be a challenge for the plot, but a hyper-reality is firmly established for the play’s time and space. We are transported to a past that fits our imagination in part, but also controversial. The play’s rampant drug taking and extreme profanity is a far cry from the innocence of Grease, and the sophistication of Orson Welles’ Touch Of Evil. Sinclair’s work owes more to David Lynch’s 1986 masterpiece Blue Velvet in its handling of ultraviolence and surreal personalities. An air of menace sets in quickly and the pressure it exerts is unrelenting. The production has a magnetic quality in spite of its obscure otherness. It plays like a riddle, glutted with suspense and eccentricity, and we are seduced at every step, desperate to peek around every impending corner.

Indeed, the production succeeds as a piece of narrative-driven entertainment. It is engrossing, amusing and thrilling, with a good amount of shock value thrown in for a sense of gangster authenticity that also gives the show a cool edge. Its themes are not immediately evident, but they resonate afterward. The show does not ask questions directly, but it certainly encourages us to question what had been seen. Sinclair might be comfortable with dramatics that strike like a sledgehammer, but his ability to probe our conscience about bigger issues is as accomplished as it is subtle.

Also displaying excellence is Sinclair’s design team. Visual aspects, including lighting, costumes and sets are adventurously creative and intelligent. Nicholas Rayment’s lights are exhaustively explored, fulfilling functional and aesthetic requirements equally brilliantly. There are moments of beauty that look to be inspired by film noir, and also memorable incidences of dread that are as sinister as a dank lane way in any cosmopolitan city at 3am. Pip Runciman’s set design ingeniously creates spaces out of the usually nondescript Wharf Theatre stage. Levels and doorways are introduced to great effect, and the representation of a nightclub that is attractive in front, and dilapidated behind, is efficiently managed.

Percussionist Alon Ilsar’s work is perhaps the most inventive. He provides accompaniment for most of the scenes, underscoring action by amplifying mood and manufacturing tension. Ilsar’s background sounds are noticeable but not intrusive. When it does come to the fore, it is in the style of experimental jazz, which adds considerable sophistication to the production.

Chemistry in the cast is strong, and mesmerising. The actors are perfectly in tune, and together, they present a microcosm that we find believable in spite of its irrationality, and irresistible even though it is deeply repulsive. Josh McConville is comically frantic as the amphetamine fuelled Potts. His consistent buoyancy gives the play a propelling energy, and prevents the darker sections from becoming too melancholic. There is an enjoyable vibrancy to his performance that keeps an important sense of youth and juvenility in the story. Together with Ben O’Toole’s slightly more innocent Sweet, they portray a couple of young men keen to prove themselves, and to make a mark in their sordid world. Lindsay Farris is enigmatic as Baby, a deranged personality who is central to the play’s interest in maturity and manhood. Farris takes the opportunity to depict his unorthodox character with a liberal measure of offbeat artistic choices, and carves out a fascinating performance that is simultaneously alluring and poignant.

The young men in Mojo are in a state of confusion. We see them exercise the impulse to impress, to emulate, and to succeed, but their role models are severely impaired. Masculinity is highly valued, and in many of our lives, it is through acquiring masculinity that men achieve social acceptance and establish status. The definition of masculinity is then a matter of great concern. Greed, violence, destruction, deception, betrayal and criminality are all inextricably linked with notions of success and fulfillment in Mojo. It is a bleak picture painted of the past, but it seems that the proposition made here is that evolution is illusory, and that boys will be boys.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Truth, Beauty And A Picture Of You (Neil Gooding Productions)

hayestheatrecoVenue: Hayes Theatre Co (Potts Point NSW), May 9 – Jun 1, 2014
Book: Alex Broun, Tim Freedman
Music: Tim Freedman
Lyrics: Tim Freedman
Director: Neil Gooding
Musical Director: Andrew Worboys
Cast: Ian Stenlake, Scott Irwin, Erica Lovell, Toby Francis, Ross Chisari

Theatre review
Opera and the stage musical are theatre genres with their own defined song structures. Music is written in a specific way so that the genre works. Tim Freedman’s songs were written not for the stage, but for the world of pop and rock. This “juke box” musical is formed with highlights of his recording career with The Whitlams, and it is debatable how well the selection stands up against compositions tailored for the genre, but there is no question that this premier production of Truth, Beauty And A Picture Of You is effective on many levels.

Freedman and Alex Broun have built around the songs, a story replete with nostalgia and sentimentality, ensuring an emotional experience that audiences expect of the format. Characters and lines are thoughtfully crafted, with scenes between songs sometimes leaving a greater impression than the musical numbers themselves. Neil Gooding’s direction utilises space limitations of the Hayes Theatre to his advantage, evoking wistfully, the grunge of the 1990s and of Newtown, where the action is set, but it should be said that visual design could benefit from being a little more adventurous. The incorporation of live musicians within the space is charming. Gooding allows them to be within sight, but they are never intrusive. Above all, Gooding is a sensitive storyteller. The plot unfolds beautifully, with surprise, laughter and pathos always in the mix. His cast is a strong one, and the conviction of their performances is impressively engrossing.

Ian Stenlake, in the role of Anton, unleashes remarkable charisma. He is not a heroic protagonist, but his confident presence captivates us, and makes us care for all that he goes through. Stenlake’s ability to portray frivolity and an Australian casualness is wonderfully endearing, and his comic timing is a highlight of the show. Scott Irwin plays Charlie, buoyant and optimistic in 1994, but wearied and dejected in 2014. His unbelievable transformation between both eras bears an authenticity that is astonishing. Irwin’s work is subtle but powerful. His depiction of the character’s darker moments are devastating, and it is this gravity that gives the production its soul.

Younger members of the cast might be slightly less accomplished, but their talents are evident. Their vocal abilities in particular are outstanding, and they bring new life to many of the songs. It is unfortunate that the only obvious technical weakness of the production has to do with the way voices are mixed, as the band tends to drown out some of the singing in the bigger numbers. Erica Lovell as Beatrice is delightful and spirited. She is the strongest actor in the young bunch, and turns a somewhat inconsequential character into a memorable one.

Truth, Beauty And A Picture Of You is a moving show about love in its many guises. It tugs at our heartstrings and touches deeply. Like every great musical, it is affecting and entertaining, and it presents an opportunity to showcase some of our greatest talents, in whom we find great joy and sublime inspiration.

www.hayestheatre.com.au | www.goodingproductions.com

Review: Stones In Her Mouth (Mau)

stonesinhermouthVenue: Carriageworks (Eveleigh NSW), May 28 – 31, 2014
Choreography: Lemi Ponifasio
Director: Lemi Ponifasio

Theatre review
There are many juxtapositions in Lemi Ponifasio’s Stones In Her Mouth. The company’s ten performers are all women, interpreting a male director’s vision. The setting is ultra-modern, but much of the content feels firmly rooted in tradition. The women sing songs that seem to be from a folk practice, but their recorded accompaniment is evocative of a futuristic space age soundscape. Imagery is expressed almost entirely in black and white. The deep contrasts are in a constant state of negotiation, searching for harmony and moments of lucidity. The show is often about struggle, but the quality of performance is never in strife. The Mau company is flawless, and the proficiency at which their art is practiced, is staggering.

It is not an exaggeration to say that watching these women in action is awe-inspiring. There is a sense of shamanistic ecstasy to this work. Their voices and physicality are thoroughly honed, to a degree that would be astonishing for any audience. The cohesion and consonance in the ensemble, along with the level of focus they achieve as individuals, play almost like a miracle, unfathomable yet irrefutably real. Their connection with us is a spiritual one, because their language is ritualistic, and their states of trance move us and envelope us so that we too feel a part of the divine.

Stones In Her Mouth is also political. The show begins with the cast in darkness. We hear them but we cannot see them. A bright white light shines instead at us, transfixed in our seats, so that we become the object of fetish, and they in turn dictate the terms at which they are to be viewed. The work makes few explicit statements, but it is impossible to doubt the social significance of gender, ethnicity and colonial imperialism, implicative in each gesture and utterance. Our position as viewer shifts between the arraigned, the aggressor, and ally. The women portray complexity, but they are invariably powerful and dignified.

Ponifasio’s creation is breathtaking and transcendental. His art moves us by virtue of its very presence, and it is in the unique shaping of that presence with his masterful manipulation of time and space, that Ponifasio presents his exceptional artistry.

www.carriageworks.com.au | www.mau.co.nz

Review: Cain And Abel (Belvoir St Theatre / The Rabble)

rabbleVenue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), May 15 – Jun 8, 2014
Creators: Kate Davis, Emma Valente
Director: Emma Valente
Actors: Dana Miltins, Mary Helen Sassman
Image by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
In certain religious texts, Cain and Abel were the first children born of Eve, and Abel was the first human to die. The brothers’ story is one that has undergone much speculation and scrutiny, with Cain’s motives for murder being the key point of contention. In Kate Davis and Emma Valente’s subversive vision, the first children are daughters, so it is a woman who inflicts the first act of violence. They do not investigate the reasons for the infamous slaying, but explore instead, by substituting male for female, meanings and expressions of gender and its social perceptions in relation to human traits and behaviour.

This is a theatrical work that is heavily influenced by fine art. Dialogue is sparse and reliance on words to create and communicate meaning is minimal. Davis and Valente are concerned with arresting the senses and talking viscerally, resulting in a fascinating show that is almost hypnotic in its appeal. Shades of Japanese Noh theatre can be observed in the mesmerising leading ladies, Dana Miltins and Mary Helen Sassman, who work with a grave stillness that has more to do with spirituality and metaphysicality than storytelling. In this Cain And Abel, we are required to read not only with our eyes and ears, but also to engage with its energies and instincts. As an Australian work, it is distinctively original, even within the realm of experimental theatre.

Miltins performs an understated but terrifying aggression. Her Cain is not a femme fatale, as women do not exist as temptresses on this stage. In multiple scenes depicting various imagined manifestations of the fabled carnage, we are forced to witness her sister’s slaughter repeatedly, and to contemplate wildly, our own ideas about the artist’s themes, and beyond. Indeed, the abstraction of the piece resonates strongly, and in the absence of simple narratives, our personal thoughts are taken on adventurous odysseys.

Visual and sound design are not facilitators for something greater, they are integral to the theatrical experience, and executed to perfection. A main feature is an enclosed set made of clear acrylic, that allows for brutality to be contained (along with assorted offending liquids). The creation of distance provides a membrane of psychological protection, so that our minds gain enough detachment and security to indulge in meditations over the blood-letting before us.

Davis and Valente’s work is brave, iconoclastic and important. Religion is deeply rooted in many, and its unchecked authority affects every society. This disruption of the Cain and Abel story is emancipatory, because it encourages an intellectual response that is evolved and compassionate. It asks questions that matter, and it is incumbent upon us to consider them with a pure conscience.

www.belvoir.com.au | www.therabble.com.au

Review: #Three Jerks (Sweatshop)

rsz_sweatshopVenue: Wharf 2 Sydney Theatre Company (Walsh Bay NSW), May 24, 2014
Playwrights: Michael Mohammed Ahmad, Peter Polites, Luke Carman
Director: Roslyn Oades
Performers: Michael Mohammed Ahmad, Peter Polites, Luke Carman
Image from ABC TV

Theatre review
The show takes the form of a rehearsed spoken word presentation. Three authors are positioned with scripts on music stands, and a projection screen behind them bearing the image of an Australian map with the words “Under New Managment (sic)” scribbled across. The men read their own stories, and chime in with the others’ for dramatic emphasis when required. There is very minimal movement involved, and there are no costumes. This production is not in any way elaborate, but the writers work thoroughly with their voices to communicate their vivid and powerful writing.

The script is essentially composed of three soliloquies, interestingly combined, and there is potential for a more conventional theatrical rendering. #Three Jerks is fresh, original, and gutsy, with characters that many will find intriguing. It is a frank representation of young men and teenagers from Western Sydney, and providing them a voice in our cultural landscape is of great importance. The writing is colourful and dynamic, and works well in its current state, but even though the authors’ readings are surprisingly vibrant, the text calls out desperately for actors to memorise the lines, and to deliver them not just verbally but also physically. The liveliness of the stories and the power of its vernacular will provide the right theatrical practitioners with an opportunity for a work that contemporary Australian art has been hankering for.

#Three Jerks offers insight into a slice of Sydney life that seems to exist for mainstream society only in our news media. Self-assertion is necessary to correct misrepresentations of one’s own identity. Dominant cultures will always be in positions of power that uphold systems, whether intentionally or otherwise, that attempt to subjugate minority groups into persistent positions of disadvantage, and it is up to the disadvantaged to effect revolutions, and here is a solid early step.

www.sweatshop.ws

Review: Ghosts (Sydney University Dramatic Society)

suds1Venue: University of Sydney Studio B (Camperdown NSW), May 14 – 24, 2014
Director: Finn Davis
Playwright: Henrik Ibsen, adapted by Monisha Rudhran
Actors: Diana Reid, Sean Maroney, Myles Gutkin, Ella Parkes-Talbot, Joshua Free
Image by Matthew Webb

Theatre review
This work is an experimentation in naturalist acting. The actors have absorbed Henrik Ibsen’s script and they present on stage a performance that is best described as muted. It is a young team of artists, and their lack of experience is apparent. Their portrayals might work with a camera capturing close ups for the screen, but within the conventions of a live show, communication between stage and audience proves challenging. Plot details are often missed, and the narrative becomes unclear.

Atmospherics, however, are handled well by director Finn Davis. The bleakness being conveyed is severe, and tragically beautiful. Music and sound design by Josie Gibson and Jack Frerer is sensitive and innovative. Kryssa Karavolas’ set design steals the show with its transformation of the usually unimpressive Studio B into something almost majestic in its vision. The backdrop is a Georgia O’Keeffe inspired mural that sits perfectly in the two-storey high construction, and provides a visually stunning element to the show’s conclusion.

Ibsen’s work is about concepts that endure as long as humankind exists. Ghosts is concerned with taboos, morality and our social constructs. It discusses sex from a context that has thankfully evolved over time, but the strength of the master’s writing does not wane. It does however, require maturity and wisdom to help its words speak to audiences of our contemporary cultures. There will never be a time when Ibsen becomes irrelevant, and every production that comes along should be greeted with support and enthusiasm.

www.sudsusyd.com

Review: The Young Tycoons (Spooky Duck Productions / Darlinghurst Theatre Company)

darlinghursttheatreVenue: Eternity Playhouse (Darlinghurst NSW), May 16 – Jun 15, 2014
Playwright: CJ Johnson
Director: Michael Pigott
Actors: Briallen Clarke, Laurence Coy, Andrew Cutcliffe, Paige Gardiner, Edmund Lembke-Hogan, James Lugton, Gabrielle Scawthorn, Terry Serio, John Turnbull
Image by Noni Carroll

Theatre review
Australia’s media moguls are a source of constant fascination for the general public. We are intrigued by their wealth and power, their influence on politics and public policy, and their control over our daily discourse through news and information that they disseminate. They are part of a celebrity culture that feeds an insatiable appetite for inconsequential gossip, with their public lives exposed to public scrutiny. Our interest in the Murodchs and Packers of the world is usually nothing more than a petty fixation, but keeping an eye on the powers that be is clearly necessary, as leaving them completely to their own devices would very likely result in calamity.

CJ Johnson’s writing does not create direct links between the actions of The Young Tycoons and our own lives. They are objects presented for our examination and entertainment. It is arguable whether the characters are intrinsically interesting, but in Darlinghurst Theatre’s 2014 production, it seems that it is the actors’ work that determines how the story connects. Edmund Lembke-Hogan is spirited and comical as Kim Vogler, one of the play’s two third-generation billionaires. His performance focuses on delivering robust comedy, and it works. Equally effective is Laurence Coy’s Ted Vogler, Kim’s father, whose coarse demeanour is irresistible and an obvious favourite of the audience.

Women play second fiddle in the show, but they shine brightly in their own right. Paige Gardiner elevates a somewhat amoral personality by attributing to her character Sally Kilmarten, a believable complexity and affable warmth. Gabrielle Scawthorn has the thankless task of playing the severest role in quite a boisterous comedy, but she attacks her scenes with conviction and a surprising dignity that prevents Sherilyn Moss from turning into an unfortunate caricature.

The play is composed of successive short scenes. This allows for its pace to be fast and exhilarating, but scene transitions are not always managed smoothly. Director Michael Pigott adds an understated stylistic flair, but having every scene detached and standing alone can sometimes be disruptive to the narrative flow and feels too literally interpreted. Sound design does help on several occasions, but can itself be distracting at certain points. The Young Tycoons is a funny show about people of a certain echelon. Its appeal might not be general, but it will no doubt speak to many who cannot escape the seductive and scintillating cult of celebrity.

www.darlinghursttheatre.com

Review: Scenes From An Execution (Tooth And Sinew Theatre)

toothsinewVenue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), May 13 – 31, 2014
Playwright: Howard Barker
Director: Richard Hilliar
Actors: Lucy Miller, Jeremy Waters, Mark Lee, Katherine Shearer, Nicole Wineberg, Peter Maple, Brendan Miles, Lynden Jones
Image by Katy Green Loughrey

Theatre review
There are many pleasures to be found at the theatre but what we seek essentially, is to be fascinated by the unusual talents of live performers, and to satisfy the craving we have for stories that are engaging and meaningful. Howard Barker’s Scenes From An Execution is strangely hypnotic. His tale unfolds slowly, taking unconventional and sometimes uncomfortable diversions, but the promise of a substantial imminence is always palpable, and the conclusion is certainly gratifying. Barker’s writing is poetically beautiful, and his ideas are inspiringly radical. His varied themes include love, war, art, religion, politics and propaganda, covering with depth, many of the big questions that are as relevant today as they had been in Venice 1571, where the play is situated.

A remarkable feature of the work is its extraordinary protagonist Galactia, a painter of note, and a woman with a liberated and unorthodox lifestyle. Our own values are examined through her resolute belief in an artist’s responsibility to uphold truths, even in the face of great adversity and sacrifice. Barker’s heroine is powerful and awe-inspiring. She is a feminist ideal, and sadly, a manifestation that rarely figures in the narratives of our cultures. Galactia’s fearless determination and assertive wisdom is realised on the Sydney stage magnificently by actor Lucy Miller. Miller is convincing, compelling and electrifying. She approaches the character with raging imagination and delivers a performance completely arresting in its meticulousness and unpredictability. Even in scenes lit so dim we can barely see, Miller is riveting, and her creation is a woman on a pedestal that we all must aspire to.

Supporting Miller is an exceptional cast. It is a rare gathering (especially in independent theatre) with all actors displaying astounding talent and impressive experience. It is truly a joy to watch these artists work their magic, all performing with gusto as well as nuance, each carving out many memorable moments for themselves. Mark Lee as Urgentino is energetic and full of passion. Sharply ironic, and fabulously witty, Lee’s command of the script ensures that his scenes are consistently entertaining, and politically cutting. Jeremy Waters brings a complexity to his role of Carpeta that keeps us intrigued and enthralled. His love affair with Galactia is surprisingly dimensioned, and his depiction of an artist under the control of money and power is simultaneously funny and heartbreaking. Waters is an intense and intelligent actor, whose unmissable performance in the closing moments of Act 1 leaves us breathless.

Director Richard Hillier’s obvious talent is his thorough understanding of the craft of acting. He has created all the circumstances required for the cast to unleash their best upon us. Hillier’s sensitivity for spaces, whether mental, emotional or physical, allows him to facilitate all the action that happens between actors, and the connection between stage and audience. Hillier indulges in abstractions, but is careful to provide points of focus to always keep us reeled in. His affinity with the the play’s core message is a strong one, and the authentic clarity at which he voices it is full of flair, and indeed, admirable.

Death and taxes are said to be the only certainties in life. In Scenes From An Execution, a deconstruction of war and of our political leaders gives us an opportunity to gain insight into our part as mere mortals and pawns in a world of deceit and manipulation, rife with the glorification of needless deaths. Hogwash is ubiquitous but where great art exists, we find the eternal and the truth, and we rediscover the divine within.

www.facebook.com/toothandsinew

Review: The Rise And Fall Of Little Voice (Lane Cove Theatre Company)

lanecoveVenue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), May 15 – 24, 2014
Playwright: Jim Cartwright
Director: Christine Firkin
Actors: Debbie Neilson, Wendy Morton, Michelle Bellamy, Nick Bolton, Luke Reeves, Kevin Weir, Mark Reiss
Image by Geoff Sirmai

Theatre review
Northern England is a long distance away, with its own significant cultural and language affectations. The desire to stage a production from that region for a Sydney audience, demonstrates the universal appeal of Jim Cartwight’s script. The Rise And Fall Of Little Voice is a comedy that examines the darker side of family dynamics in a deceptively upbeat manner. It tackles dysfunction and neglect in the guise of a pseudo-musical, with ample measures of broad campy humour and a lot of singing.

Lane Cove Theatre’s production places emphasis on the play’s light-hearted elements. We see the drunken fumblings of a desperate middle-aged woman Mari Hoff, her daughter LV’s burgeoning and very innocent romance, and their neighbour’s kooky jesting. There is some effort at depicting Hoff’s love interest with some sinisterness, but by and large, the show lacks a gravity that would give meaning to its story and characters. Little Voice relies heavily on empathy and personal identification for its dramatics to be effective, but the narrative does not always connect sufficiently with its audience. An important aspect of the play is the loss of the family’s paternal figure that causes disharmony and grief, and it is the memory both women bear of the man that provides impetus for the plot, but his presence is unsatisfactorily sparse in this staging. He leaves a hole in their lives, but we are blissfully oblivious to it.

Wendy Morton is an energetic actor who provides Mari Hoff with an emotional neediness and instability that is uncomfortably believable. There is a sense of self-abandonment in Morton’s work that is entertaining and fitting, but the character she creates has too much warmth, and comes across overly endearing. The story needs a mother with a cruel and villainous edge to justify her appointed conclusion, and to help explain her daughter’s strangeness, but Morton lacks those malevolent qualities in her otherwise delightful portrayal. LV is played by Debbie Neilson who shines in musical sections where her talents as an impressionist take centre stage. She performs as Judy Garland, Lulu, Edith Piaf, Marlene Dietrich and Shirley Bassey, and is particularly memorable with her mimicry of Marilyn Monroe and Shirley Temple. It is clear that Neilson’s vocal ability contributes greatly to her part in the show, but the actor is not ideally cast. Neilson is a vibrant and gregarious performer who seems to be at odds with the timidness and melancholy that is fundamental to her character. In the role of her love interest Billy, is Luke Reeves who delivers the most consistent and convincing characterisation in the show. The script does not demand very much of the actor, but Reeves is clear of his contribution to the plot, and addresses each scene with charm and precision.

Little Voice is effervescent and colourful, but it is the exploration of the writing’s psychological and emotional depths that would give it a sense of authenticity. Death and mourning are themes that touch all our lives, and truthful theatrical renderings always resonate. Coming of age tales are appealing because they speak of hope, but they need the darkness before the light in order to hit home.

www.lanecovetheatrecompany.com

Review: Something To Be Done (Gabatwa Studios)

rsz_10259032_782336098466784_8926997888061039248_oVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), May 13 – Jun 1, 2014
Writer: Gabriel McCarthy
Performer: Gabriel McCarthy

Theatre review
Reminiscent of work by Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin and Rowan Atkinson, Gabriel McCarthy’s one-man show communicates without words, relying instead on the actor’s ability to create meaning with his body and face. The story is vague, but its themes are clear. McCarthy’s show is about innocence, mortality, love, and art. There is also a sense of burgeoning manhood being explored by the performer who discovers the universe around him, but within an independence that he manufactures, almost to stake his claim on a personal and self-determined identity.

The show is 75 minutes long, and while it does switch gears often and there is plenty of variety to prevent any hint of self-indulgence, its scenes are not always engaging. The format of the production is challenging, as it requires of its audience, a mode of watching that is acutely different from what is conventional and mainstream. It does what it wants, with admirable eccentricity and idiosyncrasy, but we need something more. Many great works have touched audiences without the use of words, and it is the artist’s responsibility to locate that point of connection.

Erin Harvey is stage manager, and does a splendid job with the minimal technical facilities at hand. The show looks and feels refined, with a set by Christie Kay Bennett that is basic but considered and restrained. The show’s innumerable sound cues are a key feature, and Harvey’s faultless execution is noteworthy. A thorough understanding of the show and its performer is necessary, and the chemistry between tech and talent for this production is beautifully harmonious.

McCarthy is a performer with great skill and presence. He is phenomenally agile and energetic, and his ability to convey concepts and to express intention is remarkable. There are many memorable moments of vigorous gesturing and lively leaping, but the actor is equally effective in significant pauses, unafraid of a more silent approach. There is a sincerity to the man that is endearing, but his story is less captivating. Even though it is not difficult to follow, it is too abstract. We want to connect, but it is too distant. The tale seems personal, but it is also shrouded, and maybe a little elusive with its message.

www.facebook.com/gabatwastudios