Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Darlinghurst NSW), Feb 9 – Apr 21, 2024
Playwright: Louis Nowra
Director: Declan Greene
Cast: Thomas Campbell, Paul Capsis, Philip Lynch, Masego Pitso, Nikki Viveca, Darius Williams, Ursula Yovich, William Zappa
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
The Lewis Trilogy comprises a series of semi-autobiographical plays by Louis Nowra; Summer of the Aliens and Così from 1992, and from 2017, This Much is True. A playwright named Lewis Riley observes from the centre of these stories, the weird and wonderful characters crossing his path, at different phases of life. Nowra’s adoring portrayals of all these colourful eccentrics, are the main unifying element that form a foundation of this newly conceived trilogy.

In an Australia too often preoccupied with its culture of respectability and conformity, it is the dignity attributed to every downtrodden personality, through Lewis’ eyes, that keeps this a refreshing albeit nostalgic experience. To be able to see each and every foible presented in this radically loving manner, is to be able to find acceptance, for our neighbours, and for ourselves. The Lewis Trilogy is ultimately an ode to humanity, along with all of its essential entanglements with fallibility and vulnerability.

Direction by Declan Greene suffuses the show with an extraordinary attitude of compassion, encouraging viewers to share in a benevolence that necessitates an opening of hearts and minds. There is a pleasure in Greene’s celebration of people’s flaws, that gives the production a remarkable humour, especially notable in the first two pieces. The final portion intensifies the poignancy of the experience, taking us appropriately to an emotional peak, as we come to an almost religious reckoning with hitherto threadbare notions of unconditional love.

Sounds and music by Daniel Herten are especially pivotal, in delivering that profound sentimentality. An irresistible melancholy in Herten’s work insists on our visceral response, whether as enhancement to the narrative’s sadder moments, or as substantive counterbalance to the many hilarious scenarios being presented. That amplification of emotions, is also found in the rendering of lights, by Kelsey Lee whose marvellous manipulations of space and atmosphere, allows us to see and feel the wide ranging circumstances being depicted, through key moments of Lewis’ lifetime. Set design by Jeremy Allen is evocative of that inevitable process of decay, of which every entity must grapple with. Much as we aspire to states of flawlessness, nature will assert its dominance, and reveal perfection to only ever be a figment of our imagination. Costumes by Melanie Liertz bring accuracy to the times and spaces being rendered, to give us a deep sense of familiarity, for each soul that we encounter.

Actors Philip Lynch and William Zappa play respectively, young and old versions of Lewis, both compelling and endearing presences, and both exemplifying the generosity of spirit that figures so significantly in this production. It is the way Lewis is able to connect so meaningfully with all he comes across, that represents the biggest lesson of the exercise. The entire cast is sublime, all taking on multiple characters, with exemplary aplomb. Paul Capsis and Ursula Yovich are particularly notable, with the incredible artistry they embody for all their roles.

Over the three parts of The Lewis Trilogy, each with a duration of 90 minutes, we fall deeper and deeper for these performers, and the people they present. Audiences will likely attend the event with trepidation, having to enter into what seems a prolonged commitment with no assurance of any satisfaction, but at the show’s final moments, we find ourselves thoroughly heartbroken, at the devastating prospect of having to say goodbye.

www.griffintheatre.com.au

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 4 – Oct 21, 2023
Playwright: Nakkiah Lui
Directors: Shari Sebbens, Ursula Yovich
Cast: Mathew Cooper, Jonathan Jeffrey, Matty Mills, Angeline Penrith, Stephanie Somerville
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Chandon has been the star of the legendary Blaque Showgirls cabaret show for more than a few years, but her position is in threat of being usurped by the young and ambitious Ginny. Based on the 1995 cult classic Showgirls by Paul Verhoeven, Nakkiah Lui’s highly satirical Blaque Showgirls extends the tradition of stories dealing with the menacing ingenue, for a renewed look at dog-eat-dog capitalism through a feminist lens, examining the entrenched racism fundamental to the enduring dominion of a system derived from our colonial history.

The issues are serious, but the show presents them in deceptively silly ways, for a work of theatre that talks about our darkest matters without relying on painful enactments of trauma. Lui’s work is irrepressibly effervescent, but with sarcasm dripping from every line, it aims to create laughter as it fervently exposes the injustices suffered by those Indigenous to this land. Co-directed by Shari Sebbens and Ursula Yovich, we are treated to a modern farce, chaotic and messy in the best possible ways. Taking inspiration from the campy absurdity of Verhoeven’s film, the style of comedy in Blaque Showgirls is commensurately heightened, with a fierce denial of naturalism that almost seems to make a statement, about wishing to reject the venerated but bland aesthetics characteristic of whiteness.

Production design by Cris Baldwin is all tinsel, glitter and fake fur, playing with notions of taste to deliver a set and costumes that tantalise, and that challenge the meanings and representations of class, within an art form that is essentially Western by tradition. Verity Hampson’s lights are as playful as they are colourful, and along with rapturous sounds and music by Jessica Dunn, the overall vibrancy of this staging proves a joy.

Actor Stephanie Somerville brings an inconceivable authenticity to the scandalous role of Ginny, empathetic one moment, and dangerous another, we are left truly outraged by her antics. As Chandon, the arresting Jonathan Jeffrey brings not only excellent timing, but also marvellous indignation to his spirited portrayal of a discarded diva. Angeline Penrith is extremely compelling as Molly, in a ruthlessly biting performance that really gets to the heart of the entire exercise. Matty Mills as Kyle MacLachlan, and Mathew Cooper as True Love Interest, are both passionate and funny, in a show that takes its politics as seriously as it does its humour.

The people who do bad things in the play never recognise, much less admit to, the racism they enact and perpetuate. They might be able to acknowledge the failings of systems, but will not disengage from them, and will certainly not take blame for benefiting from them. They feign powerlessness, and argue that their absence during the origination of these problems, means they are not to take responsibility. They will not say that they want structural injustices to be preserved, but get hysterical at every little effort to change things. Even when the villains of the piece are unveiled at the end, they do not relent or concede. They relish in playing by the rules, even though the rules are demonstrably harmful. No wonder any attempt at amelioration is characterised as radical.

www.griffintheatre.com.au

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Darlinghurst NSW), May 12 – Jun 17, 2023
Writer: Eloise Snape
Director: Anthea Williams
Cast: Briallen Clarke
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review

Hazel is not dealing with her pregnancy very well at all. In Eloise Snape’s Pony, a young woman’s immense anxiety manifests as a lot of neurotic humour, in a play that explores the nature of human transformations, and the psychological dread involved, when a person stands at the precipice of unimaginable change. The play is intricately structured, in a non-linear fashion, that elicits substantial intrigue and fascination. Snape’s observations are precise, expressed with an enjoyable idiosyncrasy, even if the central subject of child-bearing never really succeeds at becoming engaging.

Direction by Anthea Williams is full of dynamism, in a staging that turns a one-person show into something surprisingly varied and unpredictable. The irresistible glitz of Isabel Hudson’s set and costume designs imbue an effervescence that keeps the mood uplifted, and our sentiments generous. Verity Hampson’s lights are commensurately joyful, offering many calibrations that help punctuate action and emotion. Similarly, Me-Lee Hay’s sound and music are utilised powerfully to add texture to the piece, so that our attention can remain on the performer, yet be made to travel through a rich assortment of mental states, over the 100-minute duration.

Performer Briallen Clarke is flawless in the production, whether as the painfully vulnerable protagonist Hazel, or when playing the multiple ancillary characters of Pony, all replete with individual colour and peculiarity. Clarke’s work is wonderfully rich, and her ability to endear her audience to the difficult story, is quite a marvel to witness.

Our bodies often go against our will. Being human requires a constant navigation of corporeality, one that seems intent on reminding us our fallibility. In Pony we see ourselves submit to the carnal, recognising that we are at ease when feeding our bodies that which is pleasurable, but when it works against us, is when we experience some of the hardest times. A certain submission has to be deployed, when we concede that in one entity, rarely can two separate desires co-exist; only one will prevail, and the flesh always has the final say.

www.griffintheatre.com.au

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Darlinghurst NSW), Feb 17 – Mar 25, 2023
Playwright: Nicholas Brown
Directors: Nicholas Brown, Declan Greene
Cast: Blazey Best, Raj Labade, Stephen Madsen, Veshnu Narayanasamy, Mansoor Noor, Catherine Văn-Davies
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review

Ard is following his new flame to India, but as it turns out, the trip is a lot more than a romantic gesture. His estranged father had left the Kerala region for Sydney more than 30 years ago, and it is now Ard’s opportunity to find out not only who his people are, but also why his father had chosen to emigrate. Nicholas Brown’s Sex Magick is a wild and profound odyssey about identity, love and sex, with a particular interest in the process of decolonisation and queering, in a person’s understanding of the self, and by extension of the world. It is about breaking the myths of white Australia, to create new identities, based on investigations into migrant histories, and the imagination of a future rid of the harmful baggage from all our pasts.

It may be a serious core that anchors Brown’s story, but Sex Magick is boldly extravagant and extremely playful, with genuine hilarity persisting for its entire two-and-a-half hour duration. Directed by Brown and Declan Greene, the show is relentlessly fascinating in its explorations into sexuality, and all that it implies. We watch characters deconstruct themselves, awkwardly but powerfully, and emerge reconstituted with a greater sense of freedom, in relation to the self, and to the world at large. Sex is about how a person relates to the world, and if one wishes to radically alter their experience on this plain, it may seem that it is their conceptions about matters of a sexual nature, that need to be interrogated.

Brown and Greene’s ostentatious aesthetic is seen most prominently, in a rhapsodic lighting design by Kelsey Lee, who holds no punches in delivering a visual landscape full of wonder and fantasy. Equally mesmerising is the lavish sound design by Danni A. Esposito, intensive and adventurous in its determination to move us into unpredicted realms, both geographical and metaphysical. Video projections by Solomon Thomas guide us further into greater intimacies of the show’s carnal interests. Mason Browne’s set design helps to facilitate surprising, and rapid, entrances and exits, while his costumes offer quick insight into the many personalities appearing on stage.

Actor Raj Labade is judiciously subtle in his portrayal of Ard, in order that we may connect with the tender centre of his narrative. Also effective is his quiet rendering of Ard’s comical aspects, able to make us perceive all the humour, whilst maintaining the resonantly earnest quality of his search for answers to existential mysteries. Catherine Văn-Davies demonstrates astonishing intricacy and precision, in her depictions of Liraz, the zealous lesbian who finds herself inadvertently entwined with Ard. Văn-Davies embrace of Sex Magick‘s deep subversiveness, allows her to make us giggle even at the play’s more curious moments, and then cry when we least expect to. Also very funny is Stephen Madsen, whose marvellous comic timing delivers many of the biggest laughs, in a trio of roles, all creatively rendered to amuse us to no end.

Blazey Best too is masterful in three parts, all evocative and comical, with finely honed voice and physicality, to tell stories in the most compelling ways. Mansoor Noor is especially memorable as Boyd, who prides himself for being the plus in LGBTQIA+, a free-spirited entity who brings warmth and benevolence to the delightfully erratic presentation. The auditorium comes to a sudden still, when Veshnu Narayanasamy first appears, completely hypnotic with his dance, promptly shifting our sentiments to something altogether more weighty and substantive. Choreography by Raghav Handa channels beauty, tradition and spirituality in a work that is ultimately, an exercise in reaching for the eternal and divine.

There is no end to the human need for truth; that quest is perennial. What we can hope for over time however, is more wisdom and more enlightenment, should we choose to go through these worthy pursuits of discovery and emancipation. Characters in Sex Magick surprise themselves, with the people they become, in every step of their respective evolutions. Some of us think we know who we are, some of us profess to knowing little about themselves, but life has a knack for revealing deeper truths, if only to show that we are always but only scratching the surface, in a world that we often mistakenly think to be our dominion.

www.griffintheatre.com.au

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre (Darlinghurst NSW), Oct 13 – Nov 5, 2022
Playwright: Ash Flanders
Director: Stephen Nicolazzo
Cast: Ash Flanders
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review
Ash Flanders is so incredibly theatrical, of course he has written a one-man play about his mother dying, even though Heather is somewhere in Melbourne, still quite alive. End Of begins with anecdotes about Flanders’ stint working as a transcriber for the police, then veers off talking about his adventures in procuring horse entrails to use as props for a show, and then his first moments on psychedelics that lead him to becoming sisters with a papier-mâché rooster. The pieces are tangential to say the least, but it is hard to care too much about coherence, when the point of the work is really only about Flanders’ immense comedic talent as a live performer.

Magnetic and utterly persuasive, Flanders proves himself an actor of audacious talent and skill, in this piece named after his sardonic mother’s favourite punchline, End Of. It attempts to take us somewhere profound in the final minutes, but it is Flanders’ relentless obsession with the frivolous and the flamboyant, that leaves an impression. Director Stephen Nicolazzo knows this, and has made sure to build a production around that invaluable sense of humour, for an experience that provides incessant laughter, and endless amusement. Everything is fair game, from the disappointing Hollywood remake of Total Recall, to deaths in Flanders’ family. Camp becomes a sort of zen outlook, occupying the centre of Flanders’ world; if everything is capable of being diminished, nothing really hurts.

Stage and costume design by Nathan Burmeister is simple, but knowing, able to give a wink-and-nudge, that indicates appropriate time and place as well as attitude, for this very 21st century representation of ironic gay sensibility. Rachel Burke’s lights are a pleasant surprise, as they turn increasingly opulent, after establishing something distressingly humble, when we first meet Flanders at a bureaucratic facility. Sound by Tom Backhaus offers valuable atmospheric embellishment to the reminiscences being shared, even if Flanders’ extraordinary dexterity with his commanding voice, feels to be more than sufficient.

End Of is a reminder that sometimes, the story is not the thing. The sheer pleasure of being in the presence of a performer at the top of their game, doing what they do best, is one of the gifts of theatre that can never be replaced. This bliss cannot be digitised.

www.griffintheatre.com.au