Review: Moondance – Isotopic Reflections‏ (De Quincey Co)

Posted in Dance by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Erskineville Village Anglican Church (Erskineville NSW), September 4 – 19, 2015
Choreography: Tess de Quincey
Video Animation: Samuel James
Photography: Vsevolod Vlaskine
Sound: Vic McEwan
Cast: Tess de Quincey
Images by Vsevolod Vlaskine

Theatre review
We face the far end of the church. There are two narrow stained glass windows, and the central double doors are painted white, as is the wall on which it sits. A video is projected onto the entirety of that surface, composed of photography created from the moon’s light, the beautiful images we see are completely abstract, monochromatic blobs and scribbles that could mean nothing or everything, with sound that is more cinematic than musical, atmospheric and visceral in its transmission. A person emerges in a long, white hooded raincoat, devoid of gender, ethnicity and age, Tess de Quincey performs the majority of the piece with her back to us. She responds and reacts, attempting to understand her relationship with the imagery before her, and we ponder the connection between dancer and photography, human and moon.

Our appreciation of the work does not occur immediately. It is all too strange and silent, and we feel lost in the bareness of its audacious start. Every visual and aural element conspires to move our awareness away from everyday mundanity, and in time, we are unknowingly hypnotised. A meditative quality sets in, captivating our senses, but perhaps more importantly, our minds. We go through periods of thought, trying to create meaning in the sight of dancer against photographic patterns, and we go through periods of release, allowing our senses to experience things as they are, without the interference of logic. It is an unusual pleasure, emerging from the idiosyncrasy of de Quincey’s presence, drawing us in to share in her perspective of the world. In the show’s best moments, time stands still, and we fear for it to end. We want the indulgence to go on, and we want to luxuriate in the sense of elevation it provides, lulled away from our usual petty concerns, into a space of hallucinatory ethereality and eternal bliss.

Lunar tributes have existed since time immemorial. Life on earth is meaningful only when we reach beyond, for the stars and moon. We cannot understand ourselves only from within; humanity requires that we look outside to make sense of what we go through on this planet. Whether sending rockets to Mars or dancing our bodies, art must think of infinity, in order to locate significance, value, or magic. To be human, is to move beyond corporeality, sometimes towards the far reaches of the ether, even if only in our heads.

www.dequinceyco.net

Moondance 2015 De Quincey Co

3Sep2015

Review: Dark Vanilla Jungle (Mad March Hare Theatre Company)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

madmarch Venue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Sep 1 -12, 2015
Playwright: Philip Ridley
Directors: Fiona Hallenan-Barker & Emma Louise
Cast: Claudia Barrie
Image by Daina Marie Photography

Theatre review
Finding a way to accurately articulate the problems that our societies face is never easy. We can come up with convenient sound bites that attempt to encapsulate what it is that we mean, but we risk trivialising issues through the abstractions that inevitably come with semantic abbreviations. Philip Ridley’s Dark Vanilla Jungle does the opposite. In his deeply harrowing one-woman play, teenager Andrea is the lightning rod at which our failures as a modern community converge. In its oppressive 90 minute duration, we are presented a life experienced through endless days of horror, none of which are due to any fault of Andrea’s own. Her innocence is the target of every evil that walks the planet, while all that is good lays comatose and unable to provide any protection. The story is about sexism, capitalism and poverty, the disintegration of community, and the dissolution of humanity that is occurring in our contemporary lives. It is raw, unflinchingly cruel, and devastating, but it is important.

Under the direction of Fiona Hallenan-Barker and Emma Louise, the production becomes an exercise in the depiction of pain. We are an audience numbed by the 24-hour news cycle, calloused by images of dead children appearing alongside idiot billionaires running for office. The need to communicate trauma is urgent in Dark Vanilla Jungle, and its persistence overwhelms our natural impulse to evade its barrage of very dark emotions. The long script is subtly broken up into sections presented with astute tonal variations that keep us engaged, and the gradual revelations in its narrative are handled with a finesse that provide just enough shock value so that their gravity is communicated without being unduly sensationalist or distracting. The use of a clear plastic curtain separating us from the action builds a sentimental and cerebral distance that may encourage more analysis in the viewing experience, but the sacrifice in terms of an opportunity for more emotional involvement is perhaps too great. The show is an undeniably intense one, but the plot structure requires greater care in its second half to sustain its power. After some unbelievably harsh details are divulged, the play falls into a disappointing slump, which it eventually does recover from, but the flaw is an apparent one in an otherwise extremely accomplished rendition of a very difficult text.

Claudia Barrie’s astounding performance as Andrea impresses with a savage depth that is rarely encountered. Her fearlessness in embodying such a degree of gruesome atrocity gives us nowhere to hide, and we can only respond with compassion. The earthly complexity she manufactures, together with the portrayal of her character’s fundamental pureness, gives Andrea a palpable authenticity that we connect closely and immediately with. We are angered by her torment and wish to protect her, and this instinct makes us examine stories like hers, and other injustices of our world, with renewed resolve and passion. Even in the darkest winters of the Antarctica, flowers are poised to bloom. Life is resilient beyond our conception, but our neglect of the disadvantaged is a transgression that needs to be rescinded at this moment.

www.madmarchtheatreco.com

2Sep2015

Review: 6 Degrees Of Ned Kelly (Melita Rowston’s Shit Tourism)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

melitarowston Venue: Erskineville Town Hall (Erskineville NSW), Sep 2 – 6, 2015
Playwright: Melita Rowston
Director: Melita Rowston
Cast: Melita Rowston

Theatre review
The persistence of Ned Kelly’s legend in the consciousness of many Australians is symptomatic of the anti-authoritarian culture that we have inherited, since the dawn of European settlement. We are highly suspicious of governments and law enforcers, so it follows that myths about outlaws bear an eternal appeal. Melita Rowston’s 6 Degrees Of Ned Kelly is an exploration of her ties to that distinguished history, and an exercise in defining and aligning herself with an underdog characterised by his famed qualities of integrity and struggle. Rowston’s presentation takes the form of a relatively straightforward talk, with the support of a very well assembled slideshow. Her research is incredibly extensive, and the tales that she spins are surprising and fascinating, with fresh approaches to the Ned Kelly mystique that reveal how he remains relevant today.

Rowston’s presence is often tentative and nervous, but she relies on a warm enthusiasm to attain a comfortable connection with her audience, and the environment she creates is unquestionably inviting and accessible. We are not required to be aficionados, or indeed fans, of the Kelly gang, for we can all relate to the stories about family, and to that intuitive longing for a meaningful affiliation with the land on which we reside. Modernity has a propensity to keep people apart, and Rowston’s preoccupation with finding personal links that converge at a point of unity, is an admirable one. Fashion comes and goes, but the stuff that inspires us to be true and good, will resist annihilation.

www.melitarowston.com

1Sep2015

Review: The Book Club (Ensemble Theatre)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Aug 26 – Oct 3, 2015
Playwright: Roger Hall (adapted by Rodney Fisher)
Director: Rodney Fisher
Cast: Amanda Muggleton
Image by Tom Blunt

Theatre review (of a preview performance)
The Book Club by Roger Hall takes a light-hearted look at the follies of a middle aged, middle class Australian woman, who without the stresses of a career or financial uncertainty, occupies her time by indulging in love affairs with books and sex. It is a joyful life, and while her story is mostly inconsequential, it does offer a refreshing way of looking at marriage in contemporary times. Traditional notions of monogamy and fidelity persist, but what actually happens in secret is anybody’s guess. Husbands and books are entirely different things but the effort required to remain faithful to either, can be equally onerous under certain circumstances.

Hall’s script has several disparate focuses, and runs at approximately 90 minutes, which is a longer duration than most monologues can sustain. This production by director Rodney Fisher struggles to establish a comfortable plot trajectory, and the play takes a lot of time before getting to the crux of its own existence, but it is fortunately able to deliver more than a few laughs along the way to keep us entertained. Star of the show Amanda Muggleton is an exuberant and affable presence as Deb, with a natural innate ability to charm as the sole performer of the piece, but on the occasion of this final preview before opening night, it is clear that further rehearsal time is required. In sections of the play where the actor is confident, the rhythms and nuances she creates are completely delightful, but in her many unsure moments, tensions are lost and concentration proves challenging. There were 5 requests for line prompts, which demonstrate quite obviously the prematurity of the work, and we are prevented from engaging with the show at any valuable depth.

Marriage and art are constantly under scrutiny. There is an idea of success that we apply not only from within but that we also invite from the public. Our social nature means that we crave approval for the things we do, no matter how personal, and we want things to always work out. When writing a book, the process can be intensely insular, but ultimately, the finished product goes out into the big wide world, and the author opens themselves to criticisms of all kinds. In a marriage, a couple works in private to find harmony and happiness together, and then present to society the best image of unity they can muster. Not every book will be deemed a success, and not every day in married life is perfect, but it is in the doing, not the accolades, that true meaning is found, successful or not.

www.ensemble.com.au

28Aug2015

Review: The Aliens (Outhouse Theatre Co)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

outhouse Venue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Aug 25 – Sep 19, 2015
Playwright: Annie Baker
Director: Craig Baldwin
Cast: James Bell, Jeremy Waters, Ben Wood
Image by Rupert Reid

Theatre review
Social outcasts are a sad fact of life. Communities are built upon identities that will inevitably exclude “undesirables”, some of whom can form sub-cultures, and others are left to their own devices. Annie Baker’s extraordinary The Aliens features the invisible and ignored; people judged to be of no value to economies, and are indeed, a burden to our gross domestic product. We refuse to acknowledge their contributions to society, because they contradict our definitions of what is valuable, and are considered to be of no benefit to our selfish needs. Baker’s writing is the most sensitive and tender piece of theatre one can wish to encounter. It presents downtrodden lives with an effortless humanity, looking at its neglected personalities and all their open wounds that fail to heal, with a persuasive compassion. Baker turns her strangers into intimately familiar beings, by revealing their pains and desires in a way that we can immediately recognise, and by her deft transformations of peculiarities into charming eccentricities.

Direction by Craig Baldwin is idiosyncratic and powerful. Every line of dialogue is replete with poignancy, along with the many purposeful silent pauses that occur to disarm and entrance. The play is rich with subtexts and references that resonate with great effectiveness, to communicate its message of acceptance and social inclusion. The vulnerability of its characters is portrayed with an unexpected dignity, so that their foibles and weaknesses cease to be strange or reprehensible. There is little in terms of narrative in the piece, but the relationships between its three men are carefully harnessed and perfectly realised. The unusual and intense representation of platonic love between men may be rarely seen on stage, but we believe every second of their intimate friendship, and it moves us from beginning to end.

KJ masks his sorrows with substances and laughter. Played by Ben Wood, the role ranges from being very silly to deeply sorrowful, and the actor runs that entire gamut of emotive and technical demands with wonderful fluency. There is a playfulness in Wood’s approach that urges us to meet KJ’s stories with an open heart, and the results are marvellously affecting. Jeremy Waters as Jasper, is heartbroken and heartbreaking. Coupling a beautiful innocence with impressive presence, Waters’ performance is irresistible, and also completely arresting. His style is understated yet robust, and charismatic beyond belief. In the role of awkward teenager Evan is James Bell, who lifts our spirits with a simple but accurate depiction of purity, and whose gentle approach provides a dimension of aching sentimentality that gives the show its exquisite melancholia.

Also noteworthy are the production’s visual design. Hugh O’Connor’s work on set and costumes is restrained but transportative. Its Americaness is convincing without being deafening, and his vibrant use of colour is a necessary and welcome counterbalance to an otherwise depressive environment. Lighting designer Benjamin Brockman’s adventurous engagement with the incessant atmospheric shifts of the text, is a potent element that expertly guides us through the complex quandary of emotions that is The Aliens.

Anyone can fall, because nobody is invincible. In Annie Baker’s play, we see the kindness that people can have for each other, but also the care that is missing in much of our lives. It discloses the nature of how we do or do not look after each other, and evokes notions of unconditional love that many have forgotten. The outsiders of The Aliens connect in the most meaningful way possible, and watching their story unfold brings to mind our own interactions with the world; where we are successful, and where we flounder. As Australia’s attention to economic development becomes more obsessive than ever before, our interest in the ones who fall behind must grow accordingly. Instead, our political votes go to those who claim to protect our financial well being, and those who demonstrate consciousness beyond money, are struggling more and more with each passing election.

www.oldfitztheatre.com | www.outhousetheatre.org

27Aug2015

Review: Dancendents (PACT Centre For Emerging Artists)

Posted in Dance by Suzy Wrong

pact Venue: PACT Theatre (Erskineville NSW), June 17 – 20, 2015
Choreographers: Flatline, Leah Landau, Rhiannon Newton
Cast: Flatline, Leah Landau, Rhiannon Newton
Image by Matt Cornell

Theatre review
In the search for a definition of art, Flatline’s work Drawn To Move relies on the exposure of process in dance choreography to give meaning to a completed work. Two pencil scribblings are displayed on a wall, emulating archetypal notions of the art establishment. From a fine art perspective, the pieces are primitive and ugly, but in the live drawing of the third, the creators reveal the rationale behind the pieces, rendering irrelevant the commodified hanging objects, and shifting attention to the dance, and time, behind the inanimate finished products.

In a charming parallel, Rhiannon Newton’s Assemblies For One Body is concerned with using the rehearsal process quite literally, to present a performance piece. Newton goes through repetitive movements, with facial expressions and an eyeline that demonstrates an inward focus, as she seeks to unlock motion and gesture for reaching an intangible target of perfection. Without the presentational vocabulary of a conventional show, Newton relies on an enduring vitality to keep her audience engaged. We are drawn in by the energy of her tenacious commitment in exploring body and space, and she fascinates us with an intelligent juxtaposition of sounds (rhythmic and otherwise) with her physicality. We can never fully grasp Newton’s mental processes in each moment, but she certainly encourages us to form personal narratives and interpretations in the presence of her visual elucidations.

Leah Landau’s approach in Summer Bone is decidedly different. Inspired by ideas about nature, wildlife, farming and food, the work is underlined by a serious and earnest environmental concern, but with manifestations on stage that are humorous and thoroughly whimsical. Landau creates language with her body, and communicates persuasively, basic concepts of conservation, that would otherwise struggle to find sophistication in more conventional paradigms. It is hard to find new perspectives on long-standing issues, but art can establish new depictions so that we understand them with refreshed interest. Beyond its political message, Landau’s is a delightful piece of physical theatre that captures imagination, and amuses sight. It is dance that breaks a few rules, so that we come to a renewed appreciation of the artist’s passions.

When theatre abandons narrative, we see more clearly, why we do the things we do, and what it means to make art. Modern life is all but usurped by capitalism, and we forget our humanity outside its gluttonous and all-consuming monetary imperatives. Reading abstract dance, is to explore reasons behind human behaviour. Allowing incoherence to transpire, within the restrain of truth, will deliver a kind of beauty and transcendental pleasure that is unique to the art form, and it is in its embrace that we are reminded of the deeper and more rewarding facets of life.

www.pact.net.au

25Aug2015

Review: Mothers And Sons (Ensemble Theatre)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: Ensemble Theatre (Kirribilli NSW), Aug 21 – Sep 27, 2015
Playwright: Terrence McNally
Director: Sandra Bates
Cast: Tim Draxl, Thomas Fisher, Jason Langley, Anne Tenney
Image by Clare Hawley

Theatre review
In Mothers And Sons, Terrence McNally uses the simplest of stories to present a range of thoughtful and provocative themes that are relevant to both our contemporary concerns, and to perennial troubles of human nature. Katharine comes to visit an impossibly perfect gay couple, Cal and Will, at their apartment in Manhattan. Andre (Katharine’s son and Cal’s previous partner) had died of AIDS 20 years ago, and it is only now that Katharine decides to pick up the pieces, and to find resolution with demons of the past that continue to haunt her. McNally’s writing is emotional, intelligently meaningful, and striking in its lyrical beauty. There is also an engaging humour in its dry wit and dark comedy that underscore the tormented relationships being dissected.

Sandra Bates’ direction of the piece explores with sensitivity, the many social issues and personal afflictions characteristic of the play. There is a deliberate gravitas that gives the production its integrity, and whether dealing with intimate matters like resentment and regret, or wider subjects of kinship and homophobia, Bates is able to give them all a reverential emphasis that encourages its audience to handle with care. The play tends however, to be too serious in tone, especially at its early stages, where our encounter with personalities require a lighter touch.

Played by Anne Tenney, Katharine is a staunch figure, a mean old woman whose incessant use of the word “hate” reveals as much about herself as it does her pessimistic view of, well, everything. Tenney’s portrayal is psychologically convincing and ultimately a moving one, but the comical eccentricities of her character’s melancholic despair are not embraced with enough power. The actor delivers a few laughs over the course of the show, but the exuberance of the text is frequently downplayed to accommodate a more literal interpretation of Katharine’s depressed experience of the world. Jason Langley is an extremely gentle Cal, very amiable and authentic, but insufficiently agitated in his tensions with Katharine, and often too subtle with his passion for his gay rights and lovers. Both actors create together, a stunning final scene of breathtaking sentimentality, but the arduous journey towards the play’s conclusion could be managed with greater, and more entertaining, turbulence. Adding a dimension of liveliness to proceedings is Tim Draxl in the supporting role of Cal’s husband Will. Draxl sustains an impressive energy through sequences of shifting temperaments, and is relied upon to provide breaths of fresh air at each entrance, to a very restrained stage.

We all feel the trajectory of time and the way it moves things forward, with or without our selves. Katharine is deeply unhappy, but she refuses to accept the transformations that occur around her, and withdraws from participating in the joys of life that are easily within reach. The feelings of being hard done-by are familiar to everyone, and Mothers And Sons illustrates with excellent clarity, the anguish of being enslaved by one’s own obstinacy. It also persuades us on the changing nature of the family unit; how we conceive of same-sex marriages and the bearing of children within those unions. A woman unable to reconcile her homophobia with her son’s sexuality punishes much more than herself. Hate tries to contaminate its environment, and often it succeeds, but truth and the human conscience has a way of defeating its poison, even if the process needs to drudge through generations of struggle and wasted lives.

www.ensemble.com.au

22Aug2015

Review: Kaleidoscope (Theatre21)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

theatre21 Venue: M2 Gallery (Surry Hills NSW), Aug 19 – 23, 2015
Playwright: Charlie O’Grady
Director: Finn Davis
Cast: Harry Winsome
Image by Alex Smiles

Theatre review
Gabriel is a young trans man who has been transitioning for four years, but who still finds it hard to leave his home for the big wide world in the mornings. On the day of our encounter, he struggles in front of a mirror for 90 minutes, and we witness how difficult it is for him to do the most basic of things; to get dressed and exit his front door. Stories about transgender experiences are not hard to come by, especially at this very point in time, as mainstream consciousness gains awareness of issues surrounding trans people, but Charlie O’Grady’s Kaleidoscope is an articulate and exceptionally insightful expression of the realities of trans youth at our specific day and age. The tale remains one characterised by pain and conflict, but it is an au courant representation of the continual evolution of ideologies and language in the discussion of gender. O’Grady’s script is sensitive, powerful, cerebral, emotional, and very repetitive. It takes pains to describe Gabriel’s entrapment with circular and recurring motifs that can frustrate its audience, but it serves to depict the persistent turbulence that Gabriel goes through with every breath of his life. Early sections of the play are overtly didactic, which is probably helpful for most viewers who are unfamiliar with the climate under examination, although a greater sense of sophistication with tone could make things more palatable.

Staging of the work is straightforward, but excessively so. Gabriel is in his bedroom, speaking into the mirror for over an hour, and virtually nothing changes. The monologue format is a challenging beast, not just for those on stage, but also for an audience that needs more than a fascinating subject, especially when the show runs for more than several minutes. We need definite transformations of scenes so that our senses can stay engaged, and we need to feel clear shifts in the character’s journey so that we can stay connected. Kaleidoscope however, delivers a long and continuous oration that, although very coherent and truthful, often proves to be too unvarying for our attention to stay intimate with. Harry Winsome’s performance is a solid one, and he impresses with the fluency of his lines, never stumbling over the extremely extensive and demanding strands of words. The emotions he conveys can seem intense and forceful, but they rarely translate with sufficient depth and authenticity to captivate; we hear his thoughts objectively, without being able to relate with his sentimentalities truthfully.

Gabriel is at war with the world, and with himself. He thinks that his story is about finding acceptance in the world, but it is clear that the biggest hurdle to his own happiness is himself. On many levels, the play is a universal one. We all come into adulthood with doubt and challenges, and finding permission to live freely is never easy. Gabriel obsesses over his reflection, thinking that it is the gaze of others that oppresses him, but like anyone, he must come to realise that the only affirmation worth receiving is from himself, and until he stops waiting for consent to arrive from without, can he allow his own emancipation to occur.

www.facebook.com/Theatre21Australia

21Aug2015

Review: The Tempest (Bell Shakespeare)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

bellshakespeare
Venue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), Aug 19 – Sep 18, 2015
Playwright: William Shakespeare
Director: John Bell
Cast: Robert Alexander, Matthew Backer, Felix Gentle, Brian Lipson, Arky Michael, Hazem Shammas, Maeliosa Stafford, Damien Strouthos, Eloise Winestock
Image by Prudence Upton

Theatre review
Shakespeare’s fantastical masterpiece The Tempest, with all its mystique and magic, is almost an allegory for the transportative and imaginary qualities of the world of theatre. On Prospero’s island, anything can happen, and on the stage, it is precisely that boundless unpredictability that makes it a special, and for many, sacred space. Whether it is the stories of everyday that are being presented, or manifesting scenarios beyond the wildest of dreams, theatre has the ability to provide something extraordinary to all its participants.

Like Prospero abandoning the magical arts at the play’s end, John Bell directs his last production with this rendition of The Tempest. The cast he has amassed is an impressive one, and Bell’s extensive acting background is clear to see, in the fascinating and intricate characters being brought to life. Every player is detailed, energetic and palpably present, yet the resultant show is oddly placid. Themes of the text fail to resonate. Ideas such as the distinctions we draw between nations, between nature and civilisation, between freedom and confinement, struggle to find illumination, even though their presences in modern life remain relevant. Exoticism is explored well in the show, but its sense of adventurous fantasy is not always established with sufficient dynamism. Music by Alan John and sound design by Nate Edmondson are outstanding features; helping to drive the production through atmospheric transformations and exquisite moments of ethereality. Less successful are its visual elements that seem to lack whimsy and ambition. The story being told is celestial and outlandish, but what we see is staid and dated. Even exits and entrances are awkwardly managed to accommodate the inconvenient access to stage wings of the uninspired set.

Prospero is played by Brian Lipson, whose nuanced and vibrant performance provides sustenance for the entire plot, and whose sharp focus keeps us compelled. The production suffers from an overall lack of poignancy, but Lipson depicts emotions with gravitas and complexity that assist with some level of audience identification. Arky Michael and Hazem Shammas are a show-stealing couple whose mischievous antics are a persistent source of amusement. They create some of the most memorable sequences with brilliantly broad comedic interpretations of their dual roles (Michael plays Sebastian and Trinculo, and Shammas is Antonio and Stephano), captivating us with what looks to be an updated, and improved, Laurel and Hardy act.

The story is about kingdoms, sorcery, and heavenly creatures, but the show does not bear the majesty of the famed text. With its delicate and sincere approach, it is easy to be disappointed by the production’s simplicity, even though the thoroughness of its thespian executions are evident. William Shakespeare’s imagination is a genius that is unparalleled, and it seems that our meagre capacities in the dark auditorium requires greater facilitation, in order to achieve the same vision he had intended.

www.bellshakespeare.com.au

13Aug2015

Review: The Women (New Theatre)

Posted in Theatre by Suzy Wrong

Venue: New Theatre (Newtown NSW), Aug 11 – Sep 12, 2015
Playwright: Clare Boothe Luce
Director: Deborah Jones
Cast: Heidi Baleisis, Melissa Burgess , Kailey Higgins, Jordan Keyes-Liley, Celia Kelly, Susan M Kennedy, Jess Loudon, Emma Louise, Joy Miller, Nell Nakkan, Lauren Orrell, Alexandra Plim, Jade Potts, Eleanor Ryan, Annie Schofield, Helen Stuart , Vola Vandere, Sandy Velini
Photography © Bob Seary

Theatre review
The play first appeared in 1936, with film versions following in 1939 and in 2008. Clare Boothe Luce’s The Women features a big roster of characters, all female, but it does not fit conveniently into notions of feminism. Arriving several years before the first World War, the play embraces life in the post-Great Depression era, reflecting no concern for big social issues of the day. Girls grew up to become heterosexual wives, and success was measured by her ability to keep a happy home. By today’s standards, the stakes in the play are incredibly low, but Boothe Luce’s exaggerations of domestic upheaval remains amusing, even though much of its regressive politics are undoubtedly irritating, notwithstanding its many outspoken and bold characters.

Direction by Deborah Jones pays homage to films and stars of the era, with outlandish performances and vaudeville humour pitched at an ideal where bigger is better. It is a welcome revisit to an almost forgotten style of theatre that proves to be unexpectedly refreshing and often very funny indeed. The production is not completely successful at bringing clarity to all depictions of characters and narratives, but every sequence is entertaining, with impressive power from a cast that is determined to play hard.

The very enthusiastic Jessica Loudon is Sylvia Fowler, a shallow and narcissistic troublemaker who fans every flame only to feign agony when lives are burnt to ashes. Loudon’s brand of brazen sass is a seductive combination of Mae West and Lucille Ball, and her persistently vibrant presence is an infectious one, which grabs our attention and demands that we engage in the party, of which she is the scintillating life of. Also outstanding is Helen Stuart who plays Mary Haines, the jilted misérables. It is not a particularly attractive role, but the actor brings grace and a beautiful authenticity to her depiction of heartbreak, desperation and betrayal that can only be met with empathy. Her focus needs greater tenacity, but she makes us believe, and understand, the far-flung world of privilege that she inhabits. Jade Potts plays a smaller role but leaves an excellent impression with a charming portrayal of a feisty and intelligent young girl.

It must be remarked upon that although the production makes the wise decision of not casting black women in the roles of servants, actors who are not of Caucasian appearance, are noticeably absent from the very large group of 18. We must celebrate a production that features talented women of all ages and sizes, but monoethnicity at this particular juncture of time and space, is an uncomfortable issue that requires attention.

In The Women, characters are split into madonnas and whores, and all of them are defined against unseen men who wield control over their emotions and destinies. We have, thankfully, evolved far enough to be able to recognise its many archaic and disappointing representations of womanhood, but the production needs to acknowledge more distinctly, this distance created by feminist developments over the decades, for a more meaningful approach to the text, and potentially, for greater comic effect. We have travelled a great distance from “there’s only one tragedy for a woman; losing her man!” of Boothe Luce’s script, and although it is certainly true that social equity remains a struggle, we can at least be grateful to be able to quote instead, the immortal Joan Crawford’s words in Mommie Dearest, “Don’t fuck with me, fellas. This ain’t my first time at the rodeo.”