Review: Rizzy’s 18th Birthday Party (Curiousworks)

curiousworksVenue: Carriageworks (Eveleigh NSW), Oct 1 – 4, 2014
Screenplay: S. Shakthidharan, G. Gonzalez
Director: S. Shakthidharan
Cast: Varun Fernando, Firdaws Adelpour, Henry Vo, Jamie Meyer-Williams, Patrick Uly, Sophie Hawkshaw, Anandavalli

Film review
The film is projected with incidental music performed live by two-person band Kurinji whose vocalist Aimée Falzon recalls the singing of Sarah McLachlan and Róisín Murphy. The band provides an ethereal start to the night, but the film is more earthy in tone. Set in the recent past, just before 9-11 had changed the world, it features a cast of multiracial characters, which stands distinct because it is a rare representation of our daily Australian realities. It is not a vision we often see on screens, but the diversity looks entirely natural, making a strong political case against the persistent ethnocentrism of Caucasian faces in our media landscape.

The story is a curious one about the anxiety that young people of Western Sydney experience. It showcases rarely articulated societal concerns through Rizzy, who pretends to be a resident of the affluent suburb of Crows Nest, where he is in fact, a member of the working classes in the stigmatised Fairfield region. He is aspirational but perhaps for the wrong reasons. The film makes an effort to contradict Rizzy’s belief that his background is inferior by depicting great friendships and colourful environs, but it results in a very alienating protagonist. We never reach any meaningful understanding of his feelings, so the film remains distant. Its insistence on focusing only on young men, and having women characters exist at its periphery, further restricts its ability to find relevancy with wider audiences.

It is a strong cast, carefully directed by S. Shakthidharan who retains the rawness of the young actors, while drawing good commitment in their performances. Anandavalli plays Rizzy’s mother Helen, with a beautiful sensitivity that moves us with her minimal but authentic approach. It is unfortunate that her role is a deeply subservient one, but the actor’s work is the film’s standout element. Leading man Varun Fernando is less accomplished, but his comic abilities provide some entertainment value in lighter sections. The young men are a group with excellent chemistry that gives energy to many of the earlier scenes, and the film suffers as attention is shifted away from them as the plot progresses.

The work has issues with pace and structure that prevents tension from building satisfactorily. Also, the stakes in the narrative are never high, so we do not respond with much excitement. Rizzy’s 18th Birthday Party is a quiet and earnest movie that attempts to provide a voice to a segment in our community that is not often heard, but it needs to amplify its assertions in volume and in poignancy if it wishes to leave a greater impression.

www.curiousworks.com.au

Review: The Glass Menagerie (Belvoir St Theatre)

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Sep 20 – Nov 2, 2014
Playwright: Tennessee Williams
Director: Eamon Flack
Cast: Harry Greenwood, Luke Mullins, Pamela Rabe, Rose Riley
Images by Brett Boardman

Theatre review (originally published at Auditorium Magazine)
Tennessee Williams refers to The Glass Menagerie as a memory play. The work is semi-autobiographical, inspired by events, people and recollections from his own life. The making of art often involves the search for an understanding of the artists’ self and their immediate environment, through the expression of subjects that are familiar and intimate. Williams’ story examines the home life he had shared with an overbearing mother and a “crippled” sister. Seventy years have past since its initial staging, but their life together remains intriguing and poignant, covering timeless and universal themes that resonate with audiences today the world over. Film adaptations from India and Iran in the last decade demonstrate the wide appeal of the play’s premise and characters.

Williams’ language is romantically evocative of the American South in the 1930s, with old fashioned values that seem quaint and charming to our modern sensibilities, but that same regressiveness in attitude can prove to be harmful, as witnessed in the Wingfield family’s tribulations. Amanda has a definite, and narrow, view of the world and expects her children’s adherence to her every imagined obligation to society. It is a small mind that rules the household, and its painful repercussions are felt by all its members, including the matriarch herself. Eamon Flack’s direction is punctuated by inventive touches, but it is his effective exploration of the original’s concepts that strikes a chord.

A key feature of the production involves two large screens flanking the set, and several video cameras on tripods positioned on the periphery of the stage. Close ups of live action are periodically projected in black and white, shifting the audience between modes of theatre and cinema. This mechanism is slightly gimmicky, but it enriches the viewing experience by allowing an intrusion into more private spaces. Sean Bacon’s work on video design manages to bring elegance to the technology, finding a beautiful balance between stage and screen, rarely causing conflict or confusion for our eyes. Flack’s decision to have faces enlarged for our viewing pleasure enhances emotion and empathy for the piece, but it also brings into doubt the strength of performances that require that augmentation.

Also intensified in Flack’s direction is Tom Wingfield’s homosexuality. Before Williams’ lines are able to reveal the source of Tom’s disquiet, we observe from the very beginning, actor Luke Mullins’ purposeful flamboyance eagerly presenting an image of repressed and hidden gayness. The negation of that obsolete taboo inherent in the text, is an interesting and politically appropriate move for our times, and we are glad to see Tom, our narrator, approach us with fresh honesty. In terms of dramatic structure however, the build up of frustration and tension resulting from his gradual and inevitable disclosures is thus omitted.

Mullins is delightfully spirited in the role. He finds many opportunities for playfulness that helps maintain an electric atmosphere, regardless of moods being portrayed. The staidness of his home is placed alongside a confident showmanship that ensures entertainment in spite of the play’s many grim turns. Within the script’s shrewd treatment of secret sexuality, Mullins exercises a surprising range of nuance that conveys as much as Williams had tried to conceal.

The role of Amanda, the Wingfield mother and faded Southern belle, is played by Pamela Rabe who excels at locating authenticity in a highly dramatised character. Obsessive concern becomes comprehensible in Rabe’s depiction, thereby giving the tale its emotion and meaning. The woman’s severity leads to her own anguish, both qualities delivered by the actor with firm conviction. Amanda’s neurosis is strangely subdued at the play’s early stages, which slightly dampens the drama surrounding family dynamics, but when her hysteria sets in, its theatrical effects are quite wonderful.

Rose Riley’s interpretation of Laura is a fascinating one. Her family believes her to be disabled, but we do not see much evidence for it. The ambiguity surrounding Laura’s impairment sheds light on the changes in attitude over time that societies hold for notions of health and normalcy. Riley puts on an intense but introspective performance and her best moments occur when the camera catches her face in tight shots, revealing very strong and genuine outpouring of emotion. She is the perfect counterpoint to the loudness of her mother and brother, but a lengthy scene with a romantic interest Jim (Harry Greenwood) is unduly quiet and both actors’ subtlety leaves a blemish on an otherwise dexterously paced show.

Set design by Michael Hankin manufactures a sense of claustrophobia with the very small Wingfield home. An unbearable pressure exists together with their poverty, and their dysfunction becomes logical. The aesthetics of the production is fairly muted, with an emphasis on accuracy over theatricality, but Damien Cooper finds opportunities with his lighting design to implement instances of creative flair that add sensual and shifting textures to the plot.

Tom, like his father and his author, escapes oppression in search of a greater truth. The most significant of America’s patriotic qualities is freedom, and The Glass Menagerie gifts us a portrait of its opposite. Enslaved by archaic beliefs and antiquated values, the play’s characters endure a continuance of suffering and painful delusion. Today, the story looks to be a relic of a bygone era, but in fact, that same denial of liberty persists in our personal and social spheres, albeit in insidiousness. The play’s optimistic conclusion sees Tom taking action to remove his psychological shackles. The act seems at once desperately painful, and plainly simple.

www.belvoir.com.au

Review: Wouldman (The Old 505 Theatre)

wouldman1Venue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Sep 17 – 28, 2014
Playwright: Justin Buchta
Director: Justin Buchta
Cast: Justin Buchta

Theatre review
Wouldman is like a super hero. His costume is made of wood and in it, he would do many things. Justin Buchta’s very unique one-man show is an amalgamation of many disciplines and forms. There are influences from mime, dance and mask work. He even does yoga and attempts auto-fellatio (simulated). There are songs and poetry, and stories are sometimes narrated but the show is not at all narrative driven. It is abstract, almost dadaist, with segments that flow into each other, some chapters more decipherable than others. This is a fascinating show that is frequently funny and amusing, with an expansively creative approach to communication.

Buchta is an extremely energetic performer, who uses his solid presence to give the production an air of impulsiveness. He seems to leave many elements to chance, creating an atmosphere that is consistently surprising and alive. Buchta keeps us thoroughly engaged even while he bewilders us with his avant garde antics, and we respond with a complex mix of thoughts and emotions. The show’s style of ambiguity is an inviting one that can be challenging at times, but always with sufficient frames of reference to construe meanings.

The artist’s creativity is characterised by a sense of boundless freedom, one that does not require adherence to conventions and expectations. Buchta is concerned with the act of expression itself, and meanings are left to fashion their own lives. This is an art that encourages open hearts and minds in order that interaction can occur. Justin Buchta proves himself in Wouldman to be risky and fearless, but it remains to be seen if his audience is equally gallant.

www.venue505.com/theatre

Review: 4 Sydney Fringe Shows (PACT)

pactfringeVenue: PACT (Erskineville NSW), Sep 24 – 27, 2014
Images by PACT

All The Single Lad(ie)s
Company: The Cutting Room Floor
Writer: Zoe Hollyoak
Director: Scott Corbett
Cast: Braiden Dunn, Verity Softly, Jack Walker
www.tcrftheatre.com

Fire Twirling
Company: Circaholics Anonymous
www.circaholicsanonymous.com

Him
Devisor: Coleman Grehan
Cast: Coleman Grehan
www.facebook.com/colemangrehan

Bodyscapes
Composer: Mary Mainsbridge
www.deprogram.net

Theatre review
The night begins with All The Single Lad(ie)s, a play about gender politics, featuring a woman and a man in a BDSM fantasy scenario that turns sour, with interludes by a drag queen Tammy Packs who gives lectures on gender in between performing the greatest hits of Beyoncé Knowles. The production and its concepts lack complexity, but actor Verity Softly’s performance is committed and energetic. The production discusses the futility of a feminism that wishes to usurp debates about gender and sex, and explores the meaning of power and consent against the backdrop of a scenario extrapolating sexual domination and rape. Its perspective is aggressive but feels one-sided and therefore, a little convenient.

In the courtyard outside, members of Circaholics Anonymous perform a series of stunts and sequences featuring the art of fire twirling. There is a power to the flames that affects the crowd on a visceral level, beyond the visual. The team present many thrilling moments where the act gets too close to danger, eliciting cheers and yelps from its audience. The show does not have a strong sense of narrative, and things can feel repetitive at times, but there is a hypnotic quality to their performance that can prove captivating especially for the very young. The cast needs to find greater charisma to allow us to connect with their personalities, but they are well-trained and energetic. Their amazing skills do not fail to impress.

Coleman Grehan’s Him is a performance art / dance piece inspired by the Japanese Butoh discipline. Grehan uses his body, saliva and paint to illustrate human emotion and experience. Beautiful moments involving audience members painting directly onto Grehan’s body are impossibly tender and poignant, proving the efficacy of visual and time-based art over the use of words in representing humanity. Music is integral to the magic of the piece, and while they are not created specifically for the presentation, each track is selected with great sensitivity and circumspection.

Bodyscapes features Mary Mainbridge with cords hanging off her clothing, singing and dancing behind a translucent screen. Her body is used to operate “a movement-controlled instrument called the Telechord”, and computer graphic imagery is projected onto the screen that keeps her partially obscured. The visuals are fascinating, and confusing. To the side of the space is another screen displaying a different set of image projections, and three men in collaboration, illuminated only by their computer monitors. The synergy of technology and human is wonderful to observe, and Mainbridge’s brand of intelligent dance music is simultaneously ethereal and sophisticated.

The temporary division of the PACT space into three small studios is very well conceived. The program is at its strongest when there is a focus on the avant garde, and on this occasion, the intimacy of the tiny black boxes are perfectly suited to each unconventional production. In its 50th year, the centre for emerging artists remains a vital part of our artistic landscape.

www.pact.net.au

Review: Gruesome Playground Injuries (The Kings Collective)

thekingscollectiveVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 23 – 28, 2014
Writer: Rajiv Joseph
Director: Anthony Gooley
Cast: Aaron Glenane, Megan McGlinchey
Image by Kate Williams Photography

Theatre review
The beauty of love is most potent when its departure is close at hand. Rajiv Joseph’s Gruesome Playground Injuries is about a relationship defined by absence. Its characters spend short periods together, sharing brief moments of intensity through each significant age, and then disappear from each other’s lives for years after. Kayleen and Doug’s romance is an eternal flower that does not bear fruit. They do not become partners, spouses or lovers but their bond grows stronger with each passing year. Their story is a tragic one, and Joseph’s script is filled with poignancy, shifting from the very light to the deeply sorrowful, constantly alternating between laughter and tears to tell a moving tale that no person can react with indifference. The events may not have happened to any of us, but we understand all the feelings involved, and this is a production that allows us to luxuriate in all the joy and pain that the couple has experienced.

The outrageously accident-prone Doug is played by Aaron Glenane, whose magnificence in the role cannot be overstated. His authenticity is immediate and thorough, and whether performing slapstick or catastrophe, he always remains believable and compelling. The brightness of the actor’s energy gives the stage a liveliness that captivates us, and his warm presence creates a likability in his character that holds our empathy from scene one to the end. Glenane is perfect in the part, and his work here is impeccable. Also engaging is Megan McGlinchey who takes on the role of Kayleen with a fierce sense of commitment and remarkable focus. McGlinchey is less effective in sequences that require her to portray her character’s later years, but the honesty in her acting provides an integrity to her work that sustains our empathy even when her narrative is missing the purity of Doug’s. The actors form a formidable pair, with an extraordinary chemistry between them that makes the production gleam with magic.

Anthony Gooley’s direction places emphasis on extracting brave and extravagant creative choices from his cast. The piece has a sense of grandness in the volume at which it portrays human emotion that comes from the sheer corporeality that is presented before our eyes. What Gooley has delivered is more than an accurate implementation of Joseph’s writing, it is an amplification, one that is dramatic, powerful and uncompromisingly visceral. The story spans thirty years, and the sentiments represented are correspondingly deep. Passion is conspicuous on this stage, and the director’s efforts at making its presence felt are commendable. The inventive use of space shows creative flair, and along with an accomplished design team comprising Toby Knyvett (lights) and Tyler Hawkins (set and costumes), visual design is noticeably elegant. The variation in atmosphere between scenes is efficiently and sensitively executed, with imaginative input from sound designers David Stalley, David Couri and Philip Orr.

This is an exceptional production that showcases brilliant acting, tells an exciting story, and issues a reminder of what heartbreak feels like. Love cannot be explained in words, but it can be enacted in the theatre, as Gruesome Playground Injuries does, to enormous satisfaction.

www.thekingscollective.com.au

Review: The Motherfucker With The Hat (Workhorse Theatre Company / Darlinghurst Theatre Company)

workhorseVenue: Eternity Playhouse (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 19 – Oct 19, 2014
Playwright: Stephen Adly Guirgis
Director: Adam Cook
Cast: John Atkinson, Troy Harrison, Megan O’Connell, Zoe Trilsbach, Nigel Turner-Carroll
Image by Kurt Sneddon

Theatre review
Few would claim to have experienced a perfect childhood. We sustain damage from the carelessness of parents, the cruelty of peers, and the dysfunctions of society. In The Motherfucker With The Hat, characters are seen to grapple with their individual histories, some trying to overcome agents of hindrance, and others submitting to destruction. Through themes of infidelity and disloyalty, we observe the way mistreatment of friends and lovers is rationalised, and through those betrayals, the demons that people carry within are exposed in the play’s violent narratives.

Stephen Adly Guirgis’ script is colourfully detailed. Interchanges are deep and revealing, and dialogue is relentlessly exciting. The characters speak the language of New York’s lower classes, with a rich idiosyncratic flavour derived from a passionate city and its spirited residents. The story is a compilation of altercations between personalities who do not shy away from confrontation. They express an exhaustive gamut of emotions, which makes for excellent drama, but whether their sentiments encourage empathy, depends largely on the audience’s ability to relate to each character. Direction of the work by Adam Cook is suitably rambunctious. The show is a lively one, always able to provide something amusing, even controversial, to spark the senses. Even though his work can at times feel emotionally distant, Cook extracts consistently brilliant performances from his cast.

In the role of Jackie is Troy Harrison whose spectacular presence anchors the production in a wild and turbulent space that resonates with an unusual authenticity. Through an extraordinary complexity, Harrison conveys a sense of profundity to the proceedings, in which his commitment to creating both entertainment and meaning is clear. Harrison’s portrayal of aggression is not always effective but the vulnerability he displays is powerful. Zoe Trilsbach plays Veronica, an unapologetic addict dependent on alcohol, drugs and lies. The actor has a fierce dynamism that gives her character a willfulness, and she paints an intriguing portrait of hypocrisy and delusion with the character’s determination. There is a vehemence to Trilsbach’s voice and physicality that gives accuracy to the play’s social context, and grants a fascinating insight into the role’s mental and emotional states. It is certainly an outstanding and memorable performance.

Supporting players too, are impressive. Nigel Turner-Carroll’s comedy is confident, mischievous and unpredictable, adding a necessary lightness to the production with the part of Julio. The role of Ralph experiences the greatest transformation in the plot, and John Atkinson’s depiction of that journey is delightfully dramatic. Both Atkinson and Megan O’Connell, who plays his wife Victoria, deliver very solid and captivating soliloquies that stay with us for their intense and palpable humanity. The couple’s desperately flawed relationship is presented with an unflinching honesty that is quite chilling.

Production design is marvelously conceived. The many set changes are handled with great elegance, and every setting is sensitively constructed. Dylan Tonkin’s set and costumes, and Ben Brockman’s lights are not attention-grabbing, but their work allows us to be transported effortlessly to a land far away. Composer and sound designer Marty Hailey is responsible for the urgent pulse that drives us from one explosive scene to another. His music is a metaphysical representation of the story’s progression, and a perfectly executed dimension of the show that finds beautiful harmony with its more tangible elements.

The play talks a lot about sobriety. It is concerned with how a person can grow and improve, through the search for honesty and self-awareness. Julio is the only character in the piece who does not suffer from addiction issues, and he is presented on stage as the only one who finds happiness and fulfillment. He is also the clown. There is an artifice and implausibility to Julio that signifies the absurdity of completeness as a state of being. To err is human, and to struggle, it seems, is evidence for being alive.

www.workhorsetheatreco.comwww.darlinghursttheatre.com

Review: This Is Our Youth (The Kings Collective)

thekingscollectiveVenue: TAP Gallery (Darlinghurst NSW), Sep 16 – 21, 2014
Writer: Kenneth Lonergan
Director: Dan Eady
Cast: Joshua Brennan, Scott Lee, Georgia Scott
Image by Kate Williams Photography

Theatre review
Not all stories are universal. There will be characters we are interested in, and others that we do not give two hoots about. Kenneth Lonergan’s This Is Our Youth is a lamentation of sorts about spoilt rich kids. It is concerned with the neglected offspring of wealthy baby boomers, providing a perspective of new money in 1980’s Manhattan and the repercussions on its subsequent generation. Lonergan’s script is full of mischief and energy, but embodies the pointlessness of the characters it portrays. Their lives are lost, frivolous and sordid. Everything is dazed and confused, but the writing provides a rich and colourful inventory of drama and jokes for an electrifying work of theatre, and this is what The Kings Collective delivers.

The cast is extraordinary. Three young actors, sublime as a group but individually sensational, give a performance that is quite literally flawless. They all make bold choices that delight and surprise us, but are always thoughtful and sensitive to the creation of depth in their characters. We are enthralled by the dynamism in their work but never lose sight of contexts and circumstances. Joshua Brennan is Dennis, the misguided alpha male, whose bravado, anger and aggression are the only things getting him through life that do not come in small self-sealing plastic bags. Brennan’s range begins at bombastic, and then escalates further. His work is outrageously flamboyant but completely engaging, and one is able to sense a lot of substance behind his delicious madness. The material gives him many opportunities for comedy and he executes them brilliantly, but poignant moments at the end are slightly less effective even though his portrayal continues to be convincing.

Georgia Scott transforms the supporting role of Jessica into a memorable one. She fools us with a Barbie-esque appearance and surreptitiously shifts the play into intellectual gear. Scott brings a palpable complexity with strength, humour and tenderness, creating an authentic sentimentality that gives the production its humanistic aspect. Her romantic scenes with Warren are beautiful and real, allowing the play to speak compassionately, albeit fleetingly. The feminine voice is only secondary in the play, but Scott’s work is disproportionately impressive.

Warren is a clever young man who suffers from a lack of confidence and direction. He allows his father and friends to dominate him, and seeks refuge in drugs to silence his intelligence. Scott Lee’s moving depiction of that impotency gives the play its weight, and his comedic flair sets the tone of the production. Lee’s phenomenal chemistry with both colleagues shows an openness in approach that gives theatre its sizzle, and every second is kept lively by his marvelous commitment and presence.

Direction of the piece by Dan Eady ensures excellent entertainment and precise storytelling, without an instance of misplaced focus or loss of energy. This is the tightest of ships that any captain can hope to deploy. Audiences will laugh, be touched, and be provoked into thought, but the play’s social message is not a particularly potent one. It is hard to summon up any empathy for the very rich, even if they are innocent young adults. This Is Our Youth is thrilling and amusing, and while it does have some depth, they can be tenuous. Fortunately, theatre is about the craft as much as it is about meanings, and on this occasion, the artists are alchemists that have turned lead into gold.

www.thekingscollective.com.au

Review: Four Dogs And A Bone (Brief Candle Productions / Sydney Independent Theatre Company)

briefcandleVenue: Old Fitzroy Theatre (Woolloomooloo NSW), Sep 16 – 27, 2014
Playwright: John Patrick Shanley
Director: Kate Gaul
Cast: Amanda Collins, Melinda Dransfield, Paul Gerrard, Sonny Vrebac
Image by Katy Green-Loughrey

Theatre review
There are four actors and only four scenes in John Patrick Shanley’s Four Dogs And A Bone. It is a work about horrible people trying to make a film, and their self-serving manipulations to change the film to their advantage. The personalities are thoroughly caricatured, and the script derives its humour from their absurd behaviour.

Performances are uneven in the production. The first scene features the stronger players Melinda Dransfield and Sonny Vrebac kicking off with some promise. Brenda is a starlet who lies and sleeps her way up the career ladder. Dransfield has moments of brilliance in the role and delivers laughter with a more subtle approach than her cohorts. Sonny Vrebac plays the film’s penny-pinching producer Bradley, who is so highly strung that he develops a canker sore the size of a jumbo shrimp in his rectum. Vrebac’s comedy is the most consistent in the piece, and the personal narrative he is able to communicate for his character is clearest in the group. Vrebacg’s vibrancy is an asset to the production, and the slump in energy levels is noticeable in scenes without him.

Chemistry between actors is an issue that seems to arise from their focus on individual styles. We do not see a sense of cohesion, which results in missed opportunities for laughter and amusement. Amanda Collins focuses her efforts on creating a snake-like persona for Collette but does not manufacture enough substance for her story to resonate. It is noteworthy however, that she displays good commitment and focus, and leaves a memorable impression with a flamboyant display of devastation from being described as a “character actor”. Paul Gerrard as Victor, the screenwriter for the film, tends to underplay his role, allowing his more extravagant colleagues to overwhelm his work, but he does have a solid presence that gives the show a firm grounding.

This is a staging that does not quite take off until its final scene. Economic realities mean that much of what we see in the theatre can be revealed too early in the creative process, and opening night of Four Dogs And A Bone feels prematurely presented. Art strives for an imagined notion of perfection, but no art of great merit is created in an idealistic environment without challenges that need to be overcome. The factor of time and the practicalities of money can be cruel to artists, but they are also what compels us to hold their work in great esteem.

www.sitco.net.au | www.briefcandleproductions.com

Review: Jennifer Forever (Two Peas)

twopeas1Venue: Old 505 Theatre (Surry Hills NSW), Sep 17 – 28, 2014
Playwright: Tara Clark
Director: Tara Clark
Cast: Dominic McDonald, Gemma Scoble

Theatre review
Note: This review reveals a key plot twist.

The play begins with ambiguity, danger and tension. Our minds and emotions struggle with meanings and morals, trying to form a narrative while jostling for head space with our own senses of right and wrong, theatrical representations and social acceptability. The work is about sexual predators, sex work and the way sex is used to construct perspectives of the world and the way we live in it. These ideas are best enjoyed in an air of uncertainty, instability and disquiet. When Tara Clark’s Jennifer Forever is provocative, it has a fierce and unsettling energy, but when it dissolves into a more assertive political position, its arguments lose their edge to become more conventional.

The strength of Clark’s writing lies in its passionate dialogue and the textured characters it presents. Fiery and thought-provoking confrontations between Man and Girl are used to great dramatic effect by Clark’s own direction. Playing Girl is Gemma Scoble who attacks her counterpart with a sadistic glee. She performs Girl’s two age brackets convincingly but can sometimes be too surface in her approach. She is persuasive as a figure of power and aggression but moments of vulnerability are not as compelling. Dominic McDonald’s performance as Man is impressive in its complexity. He makes the role despicable, intriguing and palpable, with an ability to find qualities that are universal to the human experience. McDonald has a sensitivity that allows us to connect with the daunting character that he portrays, and the several stages of transformation he performs is gripping entertainment.

For several scenes, Man addresses the audience directly in a series of lectures, but it is not just this element that makes the play feel excessively didactic. Clark has a clear message she wishes to relay, and her voice is unapologetic and direct. The story quickly subsides and we witness intense quarrels about the main themes of the text. The characters give way to the big ideas that take centre stage, but what remains becomes too simple and obvious in comparison. Jennifer Forever‘s timely look at paedophelia is honest and refreshing. It reflects our contemporary concerns and even though its theatrical effectiveness waivers, it addresses our need for discussion on the topics. We are at the precipice of a disintegrating taboo and achieving a greater understanding that will protect and heal is crucial.

www.thetwopeas.com

Review: The King And I (Opera Australia / Sydney Opera House)

thekingandiVenue: Sydney Opera House (Sydney NSW), from Sep 7 – Nov 1, 2014
Music: Richard Rodgers
Book and Lyrics: Oscar Hammerstein II (based on Anna And The King Of Siam by Margaret Landon)
Director: Christopher Renshaw
Cast: Lisa McCune, Teddy Tahu Rhodes, Shu-Cheen Yu, Jenny Liu, Adrian Li Donni, Marty Rhone, John Adam
Image by Brian Geach

Theatre review
There is no denying the contentiousness of casting a performer who is not of Asian heritage to play the role of the King of Siam. It is a very rare occasion that a main stage production in Australia features a specifically Asian character in its lead, and to deprive Asian actors of the opportunity to headline a show of this grand scale is unfortunate. On the other hand, we are a culture that believes in meritocracy, where the best candidate for the job should win the part. Instead of background, we look at ability, and in the case of Teddy Tahu Rhodes who is King, in the Sydney season of The King And I, he proves himself a force to be reckoned with. Handsome, imposing and astonishingly talented, Rhodes is in many ways, perfect for the role. His humour is confident and sharp, and his rich baritone voice is immensely satisfying. Rhodes has charisma in abundance, which is key to his successful portrayal of royalty and chauvinism.

Anna is played by the endearing Lisa McCune, who is surprisingly animated in her depiction of the English language teacher from Wales. Her voice is not the most powerful in the cast, but her interpretation of classics like Getting To Know You and Shall We Dance is thoroughly accomplished, and her enthusiasm for the role is more than evident. McCune’s Anna is a delicate figure, but her energy is consistently buoyant, and her performance is compelling and enjoyable. The production features outstanding supporting players, including soprano Jenny Liu as Tuptim who provides the most ethereal and emotional singing in the production. Liu’s ability to convey passion and angst is a great asset to the show, and she embodies the tragedy of the plot effectively. The role of Lady Thiang is performed by Shu-Cheen Yu who delights with a stunning theatricality derived from traditional Chinese forms. Her use of physical and facial expressions is a rare treat on Australian stages, which simply must not be missed.

Designers never share top billing with cast members, but this is a production with a visual glory that will be remembered for years to come. Brian Thomson’s scenic design is luxurious and exquisite, with Nigel Levings’ lighting providing further variation to scenes. We never stray far from the King’s palace, but the stage looks and feels different in every scene, and nearly every change is awe inspiring. The glamour and vibrancy of Roger Kirk’s costumes are second to none, with every ensemble conveying beauty and romance. Choreography of the legendary segment The Small House of Uncle Thomas by Susan Kikuchi (based on Jerome Robbins’ original work) is sublime. Watching the famed sequence emerge from the familiar film into reality, in such fine form is a dream come true. Christopher Renshaw serves as director of the production, bringing with him great amounts of flair and elegance, especially in bigger scenes with groups of children and servants. There are always nuances to discover and flourishes to admire in the background. Renshaw handles the writing’s awkward (and dated) racial dynamics well. Jokes are made out of the clashing and discord between races, but caricatures are toned down significantly so that characters escape obvious degradation.

In spite of the productions efforts however, we cannot escape the core message of The King And I, which pits two cultures against each other and concludes at a point where the Siamese King experiences a dramatic transformation, while the Caucasian Anna remains the same person. The underlying message is clear; one side requires improvement and the other can stay unchanged. Furthermore, the Asian character’s evolution needs to be in line with the Westerner’s standards of taste and acceptability in order for the show to find resolution. It is understandable that the esteemed nature of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s work is resistant to radical alteration, and the fact that the story is based on famous memoirs places psychological constraints on artistic licenses, but creativity in the arts should know no bounds, especially when it takes on the responsibility to improve ideologies and advance civilisations.

www.thekingandimusical.com.au