Review: The President (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Apr 13 – May 19, 2024
Playwright: Thomas Bernhard (translated by Gitta Honegger)
Director: Tom Creed
Cast: Danny Adcock, Helmut Bakaitis, Tony Cogin, Alan Dukes, Julie Forsyth, Olwen Fouéré, Kate Gilmore, Hugo Weaving
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
The president and first lady of a small unnamed European country have no one to talk to, even though there is never a shortage of hangers-on. They both go on long, repetitive tirades, clearly having stopped listening a long time ago, to anything but their own voices. The nation is on high alert, with the escalating threat  of anarchic activity, but both the head of state and his wife, are preoccupied with their own laments that are patently irrelevant to anyone but themselves.

The four acts in Thomas Bernhard’s 1975 play The President feel very much like a series of monologues, although there is always more than one actor present. In a work that is ostensibly about megalomania, Bernhard’s dialogue never sounds like conversation, and what the characters do say, is unlikely to be of great interest to contemporary audiences. What results is something that does not consistently engage, but under the directorship of Tom Creed, the production is certainly curious, if not completely fascinating. Although this half-century-old piece may not bear obvious resonances for our immediate epochal concerns, The President is nonetheless creatively assembled, and ironically refreshing in its presentation of a theatrical style that seems contrary, to what is considered en vogue.

Its visual aesthetic however is very much on trend, with production design by Elizabeth Gadsby offering sumptuous imagery through sets and costumes depicting the rich and rarefied existence of the political elite. Lights by Sinead Mckenna and sound by Stefan Gregory are relatively minimal in approach, never superfluous with their artistic gestures, only delivering elegant solutions for this instance of cerebral satire.

The luminous Hugo Weaving plays the president, commanding and mesmerising, almost able to help us make sense of all the despotic rants and raves inflicted by his part. Weaving’s capacity to portray someone despicable, whilst keeping us thoroughly charmed, is nothing short of masterful. In the role of the first lady is Olwen Fouéré, whose immense energy sustains our attention, and whose talent for blending the surreal with the natural, makes for a fascinating study of a woman unravelling, almost having us overlook the misogyny in Bernhard’s legacy.

So much of politics have changed since the original staging of The President, but it seems that the need to regard the powerful with suspicion, is eternal. Power affords those who wield it, secrecy and inconsequence, so that they may abstain from accountability, and act with no consideration for morality. Humans are susceptible to corruptibility; anyone can imagine themselves accorded unchecked authority, and understand that to withstand temptation requires extraordinary, or perhaps impossible, integrity. This can only mean that our leaders must be kept under constant scrutiny, even when we do entrust them with all our greatest hopes.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.gatetheatre.ie

Review: Big Name, No Blankets (Ilbijerri Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Jan 10 – 14, 2024
Playwright: Andrea James
Directors: Dr Rachael Maza AM and Anyupa Butcher
Cast: Baykali Ganambarr, Googoorewon Knox, Teangi Knox, Aaron McGrath, Jackson Peele, Cassandra Williams, Tibian Wyles
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
It was 1980 when the Butcher brothers from Papunya in the Northern Territory, along with some great friends, formed the iconic Warumpi Band. Bringing their act all over Australia, and to Europe, the group cemented themselves as an integral part of our national and Indigenous cultural histories. The new play with music Big Name, No Blankets by Andrea James, offers an opportunity to acquire a deeper knowledge of the band, juxtaposing anecdotes of their formation and stories from the road, with legendary songs that prove to stand the test of time.

Co-directed by Dr Rachael Maza AM and Anyupa Butcher, the show shifts seamlessly between its dramatic portions and its musical sections, perfectly blending both aspects for a wonderfully cohesive telling of a captivating tale. Performer Baykali Ganambarr leads the charismatic cast, playing the role of Sammy Butcher Tjapanangka and serving as narrator, with a humorously tender approach that engenders a consistent simpatico connection with the audience.

Also noteworthy is Googoorewon Knox, who as the band’s lead singer George Burarrwanga brings glamour and energy, completely electrifying when performing Warumpi Band’s many rock numbers. Music direction by Gary Watling, together with arrangements by Crystal Butcher, are an unequivocal joy, presented powerfully by live musicians who demonstrate beautifully the genius of the source material. Sound design by James Henry create further auditory embellishments, to keep us engaged and invested.

Set design by Emily Barrie addresses sensitively the various spatial requirements of the storytelling. Lights by Jenny Hector fill the atmosphere with warmth, but switch effortlessly to alluring vivacity when characters are in rock star mode. Video projections by Sean Bacon, Patricia McKean and Guck help us contextualise times and places, as we delve into different pockets of the past. Costumes by Heidi Brooks provide a sense of authenticity for the personalities we encounter, and for an era that most do still remember.

Members of Warumpu Band followed their hearts, and created a legacy out of passion and bliss. Big Name, No Blankets represents and exemplifies the integrity that we should all seek in how we make our decisions, and in how we live our lives. In the show, we see people being their true selves, and are reminded that trying to be anything else, is always a futile, and often harmful, exercise.

www.ilbijerri.com.au

Review: The Seagull (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Nov 21 – Dec 16, 2023
Playwright: Anton Chekhov (adapted by Andrew Upton)
Director: Imara Savage
Cast: Arka Das, Michael Denkha, Harry Greenwood, Markus Hamilton, Mabel Li, Sean O’Shea, Toby Schmitz, Sigrid Thornton, Megan Wilding, Brigid Zengeni
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Constantine’s angst remains resolute, even though he no longer lives in 1896 Russia. Andrew Upton’s adaptation of Chekhov’s The Seagull takes place in current day Australia, refreshed with modernised dialogue that effervesces amusingly, but is otherwise entirely faithful to the original. It is arguable whether these characters would think and behave the same, having moved continents and centuries. Even though human nature can be disconcertingly rigid, the dramatic (and iconic) conclusion of Chekhov’s play, feels too characteristic perhaps of an olden Russia. It is however certainly possible that that despondence is in fact no different, wherever and whenever the story takes place. Upton could be making the point, that we are in fact deluded, should we consider ourselves evolved and improved.

Nevertheless, the update feels somewhat tenuous, even though the contemporarised humour of the piece is an unequivocal pleasure. Directed by Imara Savage, the show is at its most appealing when moments are drenched in irony, as we watch persons of a certain privilege, unable to evade nihilistic despair. Reflecting on Chekhov’s times, we can associate The Seagull with impending revolutions, and explain that malaise within a context of disquietude and a thirst for upheaval. Watching the same tale unfold in our here and now, is a confronting proposition. That unflinching pessimism could be saying something appalling about the people we are, or we could simply regard this transposition to be somehow inauthentic.

All the same, drama is delicious. Actor Harry Greenwood as Constantine is less sympathetic than is traditionally portrayed, but renders an unassailable sense of truth and integrity, to persuade us of his narrative. Other notable performers include Mabel Li, equally impressive in comedic and tragic portions of Nina’s exploits, able to make convincing the drastic shift in temperaments, for this classic showcase of lost innocence. Sean O’Shea’s highly idiosyncratic turn as Peter proves thoroughly delightful, very extravagant in style but unquestionably charming with his interpretations of an ageing invertebrate. Playing Boris the cad is Toby Schmitz, wonderfully inventive and unpredictable, in his thrilling explorations of self-absorption and immorality. On stage, Schmitz’s impulsiveness is a real joy.

Set design by David Fleischer conveys a rustic sensibility, but always with a quiet sophistication that reminds us of the social class being depicted. Costumes by Renée Mulder emphasise the modernity of characters, keeping them accurately within the current generation. Lights by Amelia Lever-Davidson, along with sounds and music by Max Lyandvert, are extremely subtle until the final climactic scenes, when we are treated to a greater theatricality, as the show approaches its inevitable melodramatic conclusion.

The world tells Constantine that by virtue of his biological and social distinctions, that he is destined to be a leader and a winner. In the microcosm of his daily existence however, he only feels belittled and disgraced. Males account for three-quarters of suicide in Australia today. We can diverge in our understandings of that statistic, but it is a clearly a question of gender that cannot be ignored. We are all vulnerable beings. It is the quixotic notion that some of us have to be impervious to human fallibilities, that can drive a person to the brink.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Importance Of Being Earnest (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Sep 5 – Oct 14, 2023
Playwright: Oscar Wilde
Director: Sarah Giles
Cast: Gareth Davies, Melissa Kahraman, Lucia Mastrantone, Brandon McClelland, Sean O’Shea, Emma O’Sullivan, Bruce Spence, Helen Thomson, Megan Wilding, Charles Wu
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Gwendolen and Cecily have waited all their lives to marry a man, any man, named Earnest. That peculiar requirement for a beau is taken very seriously by both young women in Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest, not only for the absurd comedy that ensues, but also for the ways in which heteronormativity is exposed for the preposterous standards it imposes on a person’s worth, and the irrational priorities it proliferates for how people are supposed to conduct their affairs. It attacks the very notion of marriage as the foundation of family and of society, from a queer perspective, at a time when queer voices could only be heard when disguised as harmless fun.

Indeed, the politics of Wilde are surreptitiously concealed in his work, not quite able to chastise or subvert in overt ways, the values of a culture that cause immeasurable harm to those it marginalizes, but certainly successful at ridiculing beneficiaries of inequitable power structures, who insist on presenting benign or even benevolent fronts. Director Sarah Giles takes inspiration from the furtive implications of Wilde’s writing, and gives meaningful amplification to the subtext that underscores Earnest, thereby imbuing the production with unexpected substantiveness. It seems Earnest always did contain consequential depth, but it takes someone of Giles’ calibre to help us perceive it.

Set design by Charles Davis incorporates the “downstairs” of Victorian stately homes, boldly revealing that which is traditionally and routinely suppressed. There is a grandeur to the imagery Davis has created that is quite breathtaking, with a memorable transition from town house to country estate, that proves absolutely spellbinding. Costumes by Renée Mulder too are unforgettable, extreme in their indulgence with visual flamboyance to deliver simultaneously, the theatrical joys of humour and of glamour, giving further expression to the fundamental queer sensibility that informs Earnest. Lights by Alexander Berlage and sounds by Stefan Gregory are more restrained, but no less measured, in a production that scores top marks with its design elements.

Actor Megan Wilding is a sensation as Gwendolen, infinitely creative and unequivocally hilarious with all the meticulous considerations she brings to the stage. Every inflection of voice and every perfectly timed gesture, not only induce fits of laughter, they serve to illustrate marvellously the personality being portrayed, and to ensure our engagement with the overall narrative. Lady Bracknell is played by Helen Thomson whose awe-inspiring sense of grandiosity is both comical and convincing, in order that we may stay firmly within the story, whilst we relish in her effortless manipulations of allure, sass and wit. The eponymous Earnest is appropriately sincere and passionate, as performed by an eminently compelling Brandon McClelland, who is as adept at making the role believable, as he is at giving us a funny character. There is however a glaring discrepancy in levels of hilarity being rendered, between members of this ten-player cast; all are undoubtedly accomplished, but some are clearly disproportionately persuasive, in a presentation that seems to turn into a competition for amusement.

Camp, as a style and as a political symbol, takes centre stage in this version of Earnest. It is not merely a device that emerges in opportune moments. It is pivotal to how we experience the show, and how we make sense of the same machinations undergirding the personalities on stage, that also rule our real lives. The illogicality of Wilde’s characters is heightened, and camp is thereby used to force an unmasking of the many things representing esteem and privilege, that are truly hollow. We are made to perceive concurrently that which is bad, along with how it is perversely favoured, in so much of how we live. In campness we can pretend to adhere and obey, as though we are laughing with, but in fact some of us in the gutter, are laughing at.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: On The Beach (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Jul 18 – Aug 12, 2023
Playwright: Tommy Murphy (adapted from the novel by Nevil Shute)
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Matthew Backer, Tony Cogin, Michelle Lim Davidson, Emma Diaz, Vanessa Downing, Tai Hara, Genevieve Lee, Ben O’Toole, Contessa Treffone, Kiki Wales, Elijah Williams, Alan Zhu
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
Even though the war had well and truly ended, devastation and trauma lingered in the minds of both victors and losers. Nevil Shute’s novel On the Beach was published in 1957, 12 years after the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the Americans. It imagines a future in which a final explosion occurs in the Northern Hemisphere, with devastating effects of radiation gradually spreading across the entire globe, including Melbourne where we meet the characters of Shute’s story.

This new stage adaption by Tommy Murphy, feels as much a period piece as it does resonate with contemporary pertinence. The dialogue has a tendency to sound drily obscure, but Murphy’s astute condensation of events for his version, allows On the Beach to speak urgently to our modern sensibilities. Whether we associate the story with our renewed experiences of a pandemic, or with our present anxieties around technological advancements especially as it relates to artificial intelligence, the play taps into a sense of doom that seems perennially a part of being human, no matter the epoch.

That masochistic fascination with catastrophe is harnessed powerfully by Kip Williams, who directs the production with astonishing sophistication, connecting with our taste for the morbid, in quiet but intense ways. The narrative of On the Beach is a distant runner up to the gratification supplied by the atmospherics being administered, in a show that deals in the philosophy of certain death.

Michael Hankin’s set design bears a skilful precision that allows for a minimalist aesthetic to operate, using the vastness of empty space to trigger fears pertaining to notions of desertion and annihilation. Lights by Damien Cooper further enhance that sensation of isolation and of insignificance, that we understand subconsciously to be our minuscule piece in the real scheme of things. Costumes, delightful in a very 1950’s manner, are poised and hyper-gendered, as authentically crafted by Mel Page. Auditory pleasures are a real highlight of the staging, with music by Grace Ferguson delivering transcendent romance, along with Jessica Dunn’s sounds that keep us firmly in a space of mournful apprehension.

Excellent performances by the cast ensures our sensory, if not always emotional, investment into their show. Ben O’Toole brings a beautiful and captivating rhapsody to Peter’s increasingly maddening states of anguish. Mary’s dignity is kept intact by the illuminative Michelle Lim Davidson, who exemplifies a woman keeping it together, at the most challenging of times. Contessa Treffone is relied upon thankfully for the crucial lightening of mood, as the irrepressibly vivacious Moira. Dwight is played by a sensitive Tai Hara, every bit the old-fashioned matinee idol, but also unexpectedly touching at the right moments. Also noteworthy is Elijah Williams, whose turn as Swain gives the show some of its greatest poignancy, right when it matters most.

Grace and composure at critical junctures, even if they seem to provide no discernible function, are emblematic of the best of who we are. In this production of On the Beach, ugliness is worse than death, and is mercifully nowhere to be seen. Our tragedy is certainly of our own doing, and it is appropriate that we should endure it, with the utmost dignified serenity that can be mustered.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Do Not Go Gentle (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), May 23 – Jun 17, 2023
Playwright: Patricia Cornelius
Director: Paige Rattray
Cast: Peter Carroll, Vanessa Downing, John Gaden, Josh McConville, Philip Quast, Marilyn Richardson, Brigid Zengeni
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
The Terra Nova Expedition, led by Robert Falcon Scott, departed from Cardiff, Wales, on June 15, 1910. That historic attempt to be the first to reach the South Pole may have been beaten by Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen, but Scott’s team left behind an indelible legacy, along with a towering beacon of inspiration, as can be evidenced in Patricia Cornelius’ sublime Do Not Go Gentle.

We encounter characters in Cornelius’ play when on their last legs of that fateful journey. The five young men from over a century ago, are transformed into elderly people approaching the very final chapter of life. The work delves into the subject of death, the only real certainty, yet routinely omitted from virtually all our interactions and discussions in Western contexts.

Do Not Go Gentle boldly explores some of our biggest fears, in order that we may reach the greatest truths, as is the purpose of our noblest artistic pursuits. There is so much that is meaningful and profound, in the most transcendent ways in Cornelius’ writing, and although director Paige Rattray admirably manufactures sensational spectacles for the blizzard filled production, it is invariably the intimate conversations that matter most.

In the vast auditorium however, we can often feel too distant from those deeply introspective reflections. The cast is commendable for always being mindful of bringing amplification to these pearls of wisdom, so that we may hopefully go away with substantial portions of this wondrous text resonating in our heads. Playing the adventurers are Peter Carroll, Vanessa Downing, John Gaden, Philip Quast and Brigid Zengeni, who all bring excellent gravity and believability, to the fantastical philosophies of Do Not Go Gentle. Also captivating are Josh McConville and Marilyn Richardson, who play surprising support parts, adding valuable variation to the textures of this lyrical work.

Set and costumes by Charles Davis are exquisitely designed to deliver both a sense of realism, along with the flamboyant theatricality expected of a lavish production. Paul Jackson’s lights are emotive and dramatic, effective at steering both our attention and our sentiments throughout the duration. Sound design by James Brown too is a powerful element, that helps connect us to a soulful beauty that regulates all the tumult encountered by Scott and his team.

Death is always close by, it is in fact omnipresent. In our colonised lives, not only do we have to act as though individuals are immortal, we are made to ignore the eternalness of our cosmos. Death then becomes a pervasive, persistent and insidious fear, one that completely upends our priorities, so that all our energies are expended on things that prove ultimately to be delusive and self-destructive. When we live as though we can cheat death, we are pretending that we are greater than the universe itself. The truth is in plain sight, but there is an arrogance that often prevents human submission to a greater order, and the price we pay for that hubris, grows bigger every moment.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Goat, Or Who Is Sylvia? (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Mar 2 – Apr 1, 2023
Playwright: Edward Albee
Director: Mitchell Butel
Cast: Yazeed Daher, Claudia Karvan, Nathan Page, Mark Saturno
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Martin is obsessed with a goat; the attraction may very well be romantic, but when he tells his wife Stevie about the affair, Martin leaves no room for doubt about the sexual nature of his indiscretions. The Goat, or Who is Sylvia? is Edward Albee’s comedic masterpiece from 2000, notable for a conceit that most would choose to think of as absurd, for to take the play at face value, is unquestionably a real affront to our middle-class sensibilities.

Director Mitchell Butel toys with those precarious boundaries, by injecting a thorough realism into the staging, so that we laugh not only at the preposterous goings on, but also at the deeply uncomfortable disruptions to the bourgeoisie, that Albee so gleefully manufactures. Butel’s ability to make everything believable, gives the show a dangerous edge, so that for 100 minutes, the stakes feel incredibly high, even as the humour of the work makes its presence unmistakably known.

Actor Nathan Page is an astonishing Martin, bringing a hugely surprising measure of emotional truth, to this deliciously ridiculous tale. His expressions of devastation are not to earn our compassion, but to give depth of meaning to our experience of the show, as we laugh heartily at the catastrophe as it develops, with increasing peculiarity. Page’s unexpected fluctuations in tone and intensity, reflect a creative and courageous approach, that proves a perfect match for the play’s subversive humour.

Stevie is played by Claudia Karvan, who indulges in finding for her storytelling, all the authenticity that would make the audience perceive, the intricacies of a marriage in a state of shock. The ebullient Yazeed Daher charms as the couple’s son Billy (pun intended, one would suppose), and Mark Saturno calms our nerves as the normie of the piece, providing a more conventional response to the whole goat affair, although not without substantial hilarity through his excellent comic timing.

The production is a smart looking one, with Jeremy Allen’s set and Ailsa Paterson’s costumes delivering everything that is visually pleasant, of affluent, restrained whiteness. Lights by Nigel Levings, along with sound and music by Andrew Howard, are appropriately minimal in their enhancements of a play, that needs little aesthetic embellishment.

Things can always change in an unforeseen moment. We have learned from the moment of birth, that life has a way of dispensing upon us, one interruption after another, yet we keep on insisting on searching for stability, normalcy and calm. Martin and Stevie bolster their lives with all the comfort and certainty, that wealth seems to guarantee, but we are reminded that things will always descend, upon that which seems the most harmonious and indefectible, as though with the sole intention of wreaking havoc. To exist, is to be rendered defenceless, try as we may, to subsist in the delusion, that we can reach for something like nirvana, on this endlessly farcical plane.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au | www.statetheatrecompany.com.au

Review: The Tempest (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Nov 15 – Dec 17, 2022
Playwright: William Shakespeare
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Peter Carroll, Jason Chong, Chantelle Jamieson, Mandy McElhinney, Shiv Palekar, Richard Roxburgh, Claude Scott-Mitchell, Guy Simon, Aaron Tsindos, Megan Wilding, Susie Youssef
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review

Prospero’s story of exile, in William Shakespeare’s The Tempest, can easily serve as parable, for the history of white immigration to these lands we now call Australia. There is a stark and perverse contrast however, between Propsero’s determination to seek revenge, and white Australia’s general deference to those who had discarded them. What we do find analogous, is the cruel treatment of antecedent inhabitants. Caliban was born on the island, long before Prospero’s recent arrival, yet is being enslaved by the latter, who seems only able to think of himself as superior and entitled.

In Kip Williams’ abridged and delicately modernised version, we feel the air inside the auditorium seizing up, whenever Caliban takes centre stage to present his view of the world, and indeed to plead for justice. Performed by Birripi/Worimi actor Guy Simon, Caliban becomes the only character we can truly care about. Simon raises the stakes so high, with a portrayal unforgettable for its blistering intensity and scathing honesty, that we leave The Tempest with an entirely reinvented understanding of this otherwise archaic text.

Richard Roxburgh plays Prospero with an elegant strength, understated but replete with impressive gravity. The dainty but powerful spirit, Ariel is beautifully depicted by Peter Carroll, who brings grace and humour, along with unflappable conviction, to deliver a crucial element of ethereality to the show.

Set design by Jacob Nash is deceptively simple, with a generously sized boulder anchored in the middle of a revolve. The gradual revelations of special effects over the course of the production, demonstrates a deep knowledge of the relationship between audience and imagery. Likewise, with Nick Schlieper’s magical lights, we are expertly coaxed into believing that storms are raging and fairies are taking flight, when in fact it is all just smoke and mirrors. Elizabeth Gadsby’s costumes offer a rustic interpretation that appeals to those with a taste, for something more realistic and unassuming. Sound and music by Stefan Gregory construct a fantasy realm, into which we can luxuriate in Shakespeare’s brand of supernatural drama.

It is liberating to see Prospero in a new light, not only as victim, but also aggressor, after knowing The Tempest for a lifetime. The truth that hides in plain sight, implies a nefarious collusion that must be present, in order that lies may take hold. Regarding the rightful custodians of these lands, and those far and wide, entire canons are awaiting re-examination, should our claims of wishing to be democratic and just, are of any veracity.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: The Lifespan Of A Fact (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Sep 20 – Oct 22, 2022
Playwrights: Gordon Farrell, Jeremy Kareken, David Murrell (based on the book by John D’Agata and Jim Fingal)
Director: Paige Rattray
Cast: Gareth Davies, Sigrid Thornton, Charles Wu
Images by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
John D’Agata writes essays, in which he seeks truth and beauty. When Jim Fingal enters the frame as a fact-checker, we discover that subjective truths do not always align with cold, hard facts. Based on the collaborative book The Lifespan of a Fact by D’Agata and Fingal, this theatrical version by Gordon Farrell, Jeremy Kareken and David Murrell, explores a concept of the artistic licence, as understood by D’Agata. In the examination of how he accesses the truth, the play encourages us to consider the very nature of truth, and what it means, when in contradiction with objective reality.

It is an intellectually stimulating work, but also entertaining, in its rendering of D’Agata and Fingal as idiosyncratic personalities, and in the excellent humour with which their incessant conflict is presented. Direction by Paige Rattray ensures that the comedy of The Lifespan of a Fact is thoroughly exteriorised, for a show that amuses at all times.

Actor Charles Wu plays the detail-oriented Fingal, with captivating verve, and astonishing precision. His rhythm and timing are beautifully measured, so that we are kept riveted, to both the funny and the serious simultaneously, of his character’s austere perspective. Gareth Davies performs the role of D’Agata with an irony so subtle and persuasive, that makes convincing, even his most extravagant declarations. Davies and Wu bring great energy to the stage, and along with their effortless charisma, this story of rivalry, between personalities and ideas, is made truly delectable.

Similarly ebullient, is Sigrid Thornton as magazine editor Emily Penrose, most effective when adding fuel to fire, in the war between ideologies. Clarinettist Maria Alfonsine lends her vaporous presence, to the discussion of real versus true, introducing live and recorded music in ways that make a strong argument for the importance of beauty, and of aesthetic pursuits in general.

Set design by Marg Horwell is remarkably appealing, in her modernist approach to the evocation of place. It straddles fantastical and authentic, yet leaving no doubt about where we are, even though we are in fact oceans away from New York and Las Vegas. Lights by Paul Jackson are designed with a pleasing simplicity, rarely drawing attention to itself, but always reliable at enhancing the storytelling.

These are precarious times. Over the last few years, we have seen people holding firm to destructive beliefs, in the face of evidence that proves the contrary. False medicines have been sold all through the pandemic, along with fraudulent information about vaccinations. Patriotic feelings were manipulated, to make the British turn against their neighbours, at the detriment of their own economy, and a similar style of nationalism was used in America, for a moment of insurrection that will continue to reverberate for years to come.

It appears truth always exists most resonantly as a subjective experience; what we can feel is often valued more highly than what we can actually see or hear. Even at his most earnest, D’Agata’s ego is apparent. If it is characteristic of humanity to be self-important, then it should come as no surprise, when the universe chooses to have us eliminated.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au

Review: Strange Case Of Dr Jekyll And Mr Hyde (Sydney Theatre Company)

Venue: Roslyn Packer Theatre (Sydney NSW), Aug 6 – Sep 10, 2022
Playwright: Robert Louis Stevenson (adapted by Kip Williams)
Director: Kip Williams
Cast: Matthew Backer, Ewen Leslie
Images by Daniel Boud

Theatre review
There is something very queer about Utterson’s obsession, over having to uncover the truth about Mr Hyde. In Kip Williams’ version of the 1886 novella by Robert Louis Stevenson, it is not the relationship between Jekyll and Hyde that occupies the majority of our attention. Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde is, on this occasion, more concerned with Utterson’s fervent investigations, showing his indefatigable determination at getting closer and closer to the mystery of Hyde. The audience watches from a vantage point of feeling as though, we already know all there is to the Jekyll and Hyde story, but new revelations in WIlliams’ adaptation emerge, that surprise us much as they do Utterson.

On stage with the actors, are large video screens, up to 6 of them at any one time. Our attention resides with the projected image for virtually all of the duration, yet the live quality of the presentation is unmistakeable. Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde is cinematic but also certainly theatrical. We have a visceral connection with the energy that emanates from all corners of the stage, but our eyes are kept fixated on oversized monitors that seem to be constantly floating, into all manner of configurations. David Bergman’s video design is gloriously imagined, mostly in vintage film monochrome, and although not flawlessly executed, its ambition is nothing short of breathtaking. A sequence involving staircases is particularly wondrous, able to manipulate space in the most whimsical ways, for a new theatrical experience that feels completely linked with technological ingenuity.

Kip Williams’ adaptation and direction of the piece is relentlessly vigorous in tone. At the centre of the old story, is an exploration of pharmaceuticals, and for the entire show, we too feel as though on artificial stimulants, almost manic in how we have to respond to the work. It is a rich and intense journey that Williams takes us on, as he pushes gregariously at the boundaries of the art form, but it is ultimately the reframing of meaning, that stays with the viewer. Stevenson’s writing is remembered to be about pietistic notions of good and evil, but Williams reminds us that the longevity of the tale and its famous characters, are due largely to our very basic and eternal desire, to understand the nature of truth.

The space, designed by Marg Horwell, positions us as though peering from the backlot of a film studio, with flats wheeling in and out, but facing away from the auditorium. Horwell’s costumes aim for period authenticity, and are fitted immaculately to maximise the appeal of the show’s beguiling stars. Lights by Nick Schlieper are lush and sensual, able to provide delightful imagery, whether our eyes are consumed by video, or when our sight wanders to the real activity taking place on stage. A magnificent sound design by Michael Toisuta envelopes us in tension and extravagance, of the old Hollywood kind, with a grandeur that brings a sense of elevation, to every thought that crosses the mind.

Actors Matthew Backer and Ewen Leslie are highly impressive, not only with the backbreaking technical demands of the production, but also for the sheer amount of dialogue they need to rattle off at lightning speed. Their barrage of words often amount to little more than dramatic urgency, but to see them in action is to witness a kind of superhuman power in motion. Backer plays Utterson, controlled yet desirous, with an astonishing precision to all the details that he delivers. Leslie plays Jekyll, Hyde and a host of other personalities, with wild abandon at a fabulous intensity.

Dr Jekyll understood that there is something important that needs to be unearthed from within, even though social forces keep it vehemently repressed. The original story presents its arguments in a binary way; it is good or evil, and it is all or nothing. Queering the narrative, as Williams does in this update, allows us to see the shades between black and white, and therefore approach its ideas with a greater compassion, for Jekyll and Hyde, and perhaps more importantly, for ourselves.

www.sydneytheatre.com.au