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Reviews: July-September 2003 |
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www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Sound of Music Ignatians Musical Society Could there be a more daunting prospect for a director than to stage The Sound of Music? There was even trepidation in reviewing this latest offering by the Ignatians. Everything about the musical, popularised in the 1965 film, is so familiar — the splendid music, the images of Salzburg, Austria where the movie was filmed, and the dominant, larger than life impression left by the film’s star Julie Andrews. The unease is palpable when Maria (Tina Carter), a novice at the Nonnberg Abbey, breaks into the title song. The hills may be alive with the sound of music but the mind’s eye is firmly trapped on those revolving high shots of Julie Andrews swirling across green fields in the Austrian Alps. How can a slip of a girl, on a large and vacant stage, superimpose herself against those powerful, entrenched images? How indeed! Yet from this moment onward, director Dianne Nixon and her excellent team set about placing their stamp on the classic story of love, romance and escape in the political hothouse of 1938 Austria and the encroaching scourge of Nazism. The notes from the director in the show’s program give a clear outline of how Nixon approached the task. She returned to the original stage version of the show for direction and inspiration: I have encouraged the cast to study the story as told in the script and score, and to try to put the Hollywood movie version out of their minds. In this way we have attempted to explore the work afresh. To a great extent they have achieved their objective, capturing all the familiar, well-loved elements of the show and adding some fresh insights. Particularly effective is the brooding presence of Hitler Youth, contrasted wonderfully with the playful innocence of the von Trapp children, as they engage with their new governess, Maria. Brown-shirted youths mingle in the foyer as you arrive. They are the stagehands silently repositioning the elaborate set of the von Trapp family home (our nuns and novices play a similar role shuffling brightly lit pillars about to reflect changing scenes at the abbey). And after the anschluss, the imposed union of Austria and Germany, the Hitler Youth become more sinister and menacing as they join the hunt for the Captain (who opposes the union), his new bride Maria and the seven children who are forced to flee Austria. There is much to applaud in this production. With so many people in the support team it is hard to know where to start. The musical is presented on an ambitious scale. Production manager Emma Sutton has done an excellent job with the logistics of set changes and scene changes; the set and costume design of Carmen Gray captures each moment and character; and Derek Griffin’s lighting is exceptional. Under musical director Elspeth Sutherland, the orchestra blends seamlessly with the chorus. Rodgers and Hammerstein have given us wonderful music and lyrics that are played and sung well. As Maria, Tina Carter’s best moments are with the children, where her vibrant personality works as a catalyst for some superb interaction between her and Liesl (Stephanie Biggs); Friedrich (Steven Ellis), Louisa (Ngaire Lock), Kurt (Nicholas Forster-Crilly), Brigitta (Nellie Martin), Marta (Kristyn Bilson) and a delightful Gretl (Katie Martin). As often happens when children are involved, there are alternate casts. Given the attention to detail for everything else involved in this production one assumes that the alternate von Trapp children, Katie Jordan, Dale Napier, Meghan O’Shea, Andrew Whitmore, Chantelle Hope-Hodgetts, Clea Harbison and Chloe Einicke generate the same sense of fun and enthusiasm. For his part James Crilly (Georg) does well to make the subtle transition from disciplinarian naval commander to warm and sensitive father. There are many musical highlights: "Sixteen Going on Seventeen" giving scope for both the vocal and acting skills of Liesl and her suitor Rolf (Simon Schmidt); "The Lonely Goatherd" when the children, frightened by the storm, rush to Maria’s bedroom for comfort; the duet "No Way to Stop It" when the Baroness (Ann Walsh) and the Captain’s friend Max (Bruce Edwards) show their willingness to acquiesce with the new political order; and "Something Good", a song from the movie, not the original stage score, when the captain and Maria declare their love for each other. Another special moment is when the Mother Abbess’ (Doreen Orton) first implores Maria to "Climb Every Mountain". Then there is the well-contrived choreography of Sue Forster-Crilly, the wonderful harmonies of the chorus and the comic skills of Bruce Edwards, each adding a something special to the performance. — John Algate (Performance seen: 25th September 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine By Burning Iron Modern Theatre Company By Burning Iron is the latest offering from Modern Theatre Company, the team that brought us the controversial Corpus Christi earlier this year. It is Swedish playwright Magnus Dahlstrom’s darkest play, and be warned, it comes with a well-earned MA 15+ rating. The media release says the aim of the show is to make the audience “sickened but fascinated” as we “spend an intimate night in the psychiatric ward of a hospital. Six people discuss the crimes they have committed as they search for guilt and remorse”. Among the lovelies in the psych ward there's a kleptomaniac, an arsonist, a wife-beater, a paedophile, and a child murderer. These individuals have apparently been meeting for group therapy twice a week for three years (but evidently to very little effect). The work is essentially a series of monologues explaining the ongoing presence of each individual, and these monologues are tenuously linked by some aggressive dialogue and posturing from the inmates. The title By Burning Iron is supposed to be deep and meaningful — in pure oxygen, iron becomes flammable and if ignited can throw off sparks. Unfortunately there aren’t many sparks in this script — only turgid prose, minimal character development and, let’s face it, a questionable premise. This reviewer would dearly love to know about the psychological benefits of locking several criminally insane people with verbal diarrhoeia in a room together. There certainly aren’t many dramatic benefits. The script’s biggest failing is in its immature attempt to shock the audience with copious and detailed verbal references to child abuse and violence. The director’s notes state that the aim of including these things is to help the audience “see the world with fresher and cleaner eyes” and that “in order to know goodness we need to know evil”. However, any moral messages in the work were not clearly evident on the night I went, and there certainly wasn’t enough real conflict in the text for the audience to take questions away with them. Director Jimmy Bergkvist valiantly attempts to blow on the cinders by staging this production in an unusual and intimate 32-seat "roundish" format. In line with the "Dogma 95" movement spearheaded by cinema director Lars von Trier, there are no sets aside from what Metro Arts naturally provides, and there is no special lighting. Actors make eye contact with the audience and move among them, which I guess is supposed to be immediate, personal and confrontational. If there’s going to be a saving grace to this production, it is the acting. All the actors put in heroic efforts to sustain their characters, despite poor scripting and a difficult space. Michael Beets brings an interesting vulnerability to the character of wife-beater Frank: his performance is especially watchable, as is Luke Wright’s interpretation of the confrontational Allan. Beth Lennon gives a natural fluidity to the prickly kleptomaniac Mona, and in the opening minutes the tension between Mona and Arja (the capable Lucy Moxon) is interesting. Relative newcomer Steven Woolley does a good job of a difficult role as the extroverted paedophile Roger, and Crystal Aron’s bashful Ingrid is a good foil for his character. By Burning Iron will appeal only to the intrepid, the strong-stomached, the moneyed (at $25 per ticket) and those with a big interest in experimental theatre. It is 1 hr 45 minutes long (with no interval). — Ruth Bridgstock (Performance seen: 26th September 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Look Who's Talking Stage Door Dinner Theatre There is something about local theatre that captivates an audience in a very unique way bigger productions cannot. Larger and more expensive shows are often visually impressive and entertaining on a grand scale but theatrical offerings on much smaller stages, like this one, give the actors nowhere to hide and the audience a prime viewing position. This is the undeniable novelty of the Stage Door Dinner Theatre, now permanently housed at the Twelfth Night Complex in the old Journalists’ Club. After sitting down to a surprisingly agreeable three-course meal the music begins, the lights dim and the curtains open to start the show. Audience members are afforded the luxury of sipping wine and nibbling bread throughout. Look Who’s Talking, written by Derek Benfield, begins as Sheila (Lindi Milbourne) prepares to entertain for Sunday afternoon lunch. The idyllic setting is soon shattered as Bryan (Mark Fell) calls in with flowers for Sheila under the impression their brief meeting over a few glasses of wine the previous week had gone further than she suspected. Enter Sheila’s devoted husband Andrew (Alex Lanham), a vague yet enthusiastic solicitor unaware of Bryan’s intentions but pleased to have him along to lunch all the same. Sheila runs around in a mad panic telling little white lies to keep Bryan’s real identity a secret but the plot thickens when Carol (Michelle Atkinson), Andrew’s excitable secretary, arrives on the doorstep ready to take him away on a naughty assignment to Italy. As the story develops Andrew and Sheila go to ridiculous lengths to cover up infidelities of which neither are sure occurred. Throw in the only invited lunch guest, Sheila’s confused friend Jane (Veronica Smith), and the recipe for disaster has been written up with a good serving of half-baked stories. The story itself is a farce in the true sense. The situation descends into mayhem as hosts Andrews and Sheila play havoc with the lives of those around them with their lies and deceit. Each character is wonderfully observed and the actors bring their own special kind of nuance to add the sense of urgency that a play of this kind requires. Alex Lanham does a superb job playing Andrew, the vague yet calculating solicitor. His almost acrobatic eyebrows give his facial expressions an added sense of comedy I likened to Martin Sheen doing standup after a lobotomy — if you don’t follow the analogy I mean that sincerely as a compliment. Lindi Milbourne plays Sheila to a tee. The entire show she rushes about the stage, resplendent in summer dress and pearls, showing the audience every facial twitch and worried look as she tries to stop Andrew from learning Bryan’s real reason for visiting. Perhaps the standout performance for me is Michelle Atkinson as Carol. I had the pleasure of seeing Michelle in Secret Bridesmaids’ Business earlier this year and again I was not disappointed. She gives the excitable character of Carol plenty of energy and her constant reaction and movement to every scene gives her a magnetic quality. The character of Carol is forever off with fairies, occasionally tuning in to fill the room with her piercing shriek of a laugh every time Andrew makes (or even attempts) a joke. The mixture of her deafening laugh and Andrew’s obvious displeasure at it make for some of the play’s funnier moments. Mark Fell does a good job as the gentleman called Bryan but I felt that his character almost had two sides to it, intentional or not. In one instance he appears to be a naïve and good-natured person caught in the web of lies spun by Andrew and Sheila but when more is revealed he becomes manipulative and seems to wants to break up the marriage, something that his earlier self just wouldn’t do. Veronica Smith as Jane could have been a little bit more sneering and dismissive in keeping with the text, but essentially she does a good job coming into the play at the end of the first half. On such a small stage and within literally feet of the audience the cast cannot afford to put a foot wrong and director Jerry Lowley has made sure the space is used to maximum effect. Apart from one or two wrong movements on stage — bound to happen on opening night — the cast kept everyone involved and the expressive body language they all used made it pretty hard to look past them to notice any mistakes on a more technical level. Brisbane’s only dedicated dinner theatre does not disappoint on any level. Look Who’s Talking features an impressive cast and the audience’s proximity to the action makes the show a much more personal affair. The experience is highly recommended to any local theatregoers who might fancy something a little different. — Toby Walker (Performance seen: 25th September 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Our Town Centenary Theatre Group Theatre has two hooks to lure you in: a good play and a good production. At a pinch, either should do, but what the audience hopes for is a good production of a good play. And that’s what it gets in Our Town, the Centenary Theatre Group’s current drama, which is directed by NIDA graduate Ron Finney. As he is a fellow member of Stagediary’s panel of reviewers, that was a great relief to me, since it meant that I wasn’t faced with any conflict of interest. I went to see Our Town expecting a very traditional and light-hearted piece of Americana and finding a number of surprises which suggested that it wasn’t for being staid and predictable that Thornton Wilder got the Pulitzer Prize for this script. To keep that element of surprise, I’m going to try to avoid telling you much more about it than that it is about small-town American life and families in the first half of the 1900s. As such, it’s interesting to contrast this earlier view of American families with the more contemporary one that has caused such a lot of recent debate, in Jonathon Franzen’s The Corrections. Intriguingly, however, parts of Our Town also go in a very different direction, one that anticipates — to some degree — the innovative perspective of another current novel, Lovely Bones. Finney has done the play justice in his direction of a large cast with a considerable bounty of talent. Remarkably, on this small stage, the 14 actors work the space without it ever seeming crowded, and with a number of standout performances. Bob Soltys is a most genial Stage Manager, very smooth and relaxed, and with an American accent that sounds so natural that you have to wonder if it is his native speech. A check of the cast list shows that, in fact, it is. All he needs, now, is a technique for glossing over the occasional minor hesitations in his monologues: he is so good that they are more noticeable than they would otherwise be. Another delightful performance is that of Luke Cadden, as the gangly and increasingly less callow George Gibbs. It took me a short while to realise his acting strength, however, because at the start he plays just too nice and amiable to fit his parents’ description of him as the average rebellious teenager. His parents — as played by Elizabeth Innes and Paul Newman (no, the other one) — could be described as a physical mismatch, both with each other and with the ages they are supposed to be. Innes looks too young to be 20 years married, while Newman goes the other way, looking somewhat older than would be expected for his part. And while Newman fits into the doctor’s role like an extremely comfortable pair of shoes, Innes is as bland as her cheeks are smooth, until the last act, when — somewhat ironically under the circumstances she is in at the time — she suddenly transforms herself into an actor with feeling. The other parental couple, Mr and Mrs Webb — Selina Kadell and Peter Luxton — fit and work well together. And they, as do almost all of the non-American cast members, have very credible American accents that accord with the setting of the play. In the key role of Emily Webb, however, Bridget Sullivan needs to go much further back than Buffy for guidance on intonation. And, at the same time, she needs to give her shorter lines as much attention as she does her more sustained and impassioned speeches. Among other roles, Mark Scott develops his part as the alcoholic Simon Stimson gradually and credibly into the full flowering of his embittered character; and Maria Ingra-Fry (as Mrs Soames) is especially distinguished by a brash style and appearance that is unnervingly like comedian Marge Downey — until the third act, where she and a number of others (but not Scott) seem to equate solemnity with a sometimes almost inaudible softness of voice that needs to be cranked up just a notch. Ingra-Fry is also responsible for the timely costumes of that era, while Graham MacKenzie’s set is interestingly minimalist. He deliberately leaves a lot to the imagination, and this is matched by the use of mime for all the routine activities of the play, from eating to leading the milk van’s horse. They are the practical components of what Finney has aimed for with this production, to honour Thornton Wilder’s intentions "simply, sincerely and with love and care for the human condition". See it, and be touched. — Anne Ring (Performance seen: 20th September 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Outside Edge Brisbane Arts Theatre The history of cricket is a proud one. Its traditional heritage evokes images of moustachioed gentleman enjoying a polite game on a sunny English afternoon. But let's face it — those days are long gone. With match fixing allegations, underarm bowling and Shane Warne’s antics peppering the game, modern cricket is more soap opera than sport. In Outside Edge the cricket takes a back seat as personalities collide when a group of amateur cricketers, whose drinking and smoking habits put Warney to shame, get together with their wives and girlfriends for a “friendly” match at the village oval. Team captain Roger (Paul Careless) rushes around the clubhouse obsessively wondering if his team of volunteers is even going to turn up for a game that seems to have more riding on it than the Ashes. His demands and complete lack of attention test the patience of wife Miriam (Sandra Harman) as she gets the tea ready for the big match, but the real problems begin when the others arrive. The chauvinistic Kevin (David Bell) is caught between nursing an injured spinning finger, his raison d'etre, and stealing the relationship pants back from his overbearing wife Maggie (Linda Novicky). Bob (Steve George) has his mind on affairs outside the game as an unexpected visit from wife Ginnie (Jessica Loudon) drives him to drink. Dennis (Robert Montgomery) slimes around the club with the finesse of a car salesman as he boasts about the 10% discount he got off the price of new cricket gear. Alex (Clint Bolster), an impossibly selfish young solicitor, arrives with shy girlfriend Sharon (Marissa Bennett) in tow but seems to care more about the switches in his flash car than her. Outside Edge is promoted as “a cheeky British comedy” and writer Richard Harris, who has written for television shows such as “A Touch of Frost” and “The Saint”, has produced a script full of double entendres and quick witty jokes in the traditional British style. Unfortunately, the execution of the jokes on stage often let down Dale Murison’s version of the play. In her directorial debut for the Arts Theatre, Ms Murison has gathered together an impressive cast of local actors who do a commendable job of bringing the play to life, but many of the jokes, such as the double entendres about “balls” and “long innings” shared between Miriam and Maggie seemed to miss the mark in their delivery. That said, the play has some delightful characters adding life to a script that relies on cleverly worded jokes more than the physical comedy. Linda Novicky, as the equally loveable and scary Maggie, rules the first half of the play with her well-observed London accent telling the middle class cricket wannabes exactly how it is. Sandra Harman puts in a terrific performance as Roger’s long suffering wife Miriam. Her descent into jealousy and suspicion of Roger is executed beautifully by Harman and builds for a great ending. The character of Bob, played by the excellent Steve George, really becomes the unlikely hero of the play in the second half although it could just be that his pathological hatred of solicitors and drinking problem struck a chord with me in particular. I was laughing for a long time when, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he blames the telephone for his marital problems and says “I wonder how much of that misplaced passion would survive if you had to write it down and put a stamp on it”. This is very prophetic stuff if you are Shane Warne. The rest of the cast do a fine job with convincing performances bringing their own source of mayhem to the social cauldron that is the local cricket club. Each character, no matter how major or minor, manages to leave an impression on the audience with their unique mixture of endearing traits and personality disorders. Outside Edge obviously contains the right elements for laughs as the success it enjoyed on stage resulted in a spin off movie and television series. However, the Arts Theatre production has taken the play back to simple arrangements with a small and efficient set design letting the cast move around stage freely. Attention to detail is there in spades: the orange peels littering the stage toward the end are testament to that. Outside Edge is a fun play and the jokes on relationships will recommend it to a wide audience. But for me the style of comedy is often rather laboured, especially in a time when so much of light entertainment is about shock value and physical jokes. In that sense, it may not appeal to people who think Kramer from Seinfeld is the funniest person on the planet. However, if you appreciate a cleverly written joke and have a soft spot for the quirky affectations of English societal characters, then this play will definitely work for you. — Toby Walker (Performance seen: 19th September 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine She's Done it Again Phoneix Ensemble A parson with no pants, a cream-covered blonde, a loaded tax collector, a rusty gynaecologist and three pregnant women get together for a "quiet" weekend in a remote English hotel. Of course what ensues is anything but. Directed by Jo Castle She's Done it Again opens with the boyish and whimsical Freddy (Ron Scott) deliberating on his investment in the hospitality industry. A chronic gambler, he bemoans his rotten luck to his father, Pop (Bill Gleeson) a one-time gambler who gave it up so he could pursue the delights of alcohol. He brightens up with the entrance of Sylvia (Doreen Ingram) the ditsy blonde who spends much of the play looking for her dress after it is soiled in an, er, pastry incident. The perpetrator, Freddy's cousin Hubert (David Hamblyn), also arrives at the hotel with his pregnant wife Mary (Elizabeth Brown). Hamblyn plays the role with ample colour, complemented by Elizabeth Brown's dry wit. The rector, Hubert, has arrived to help Freddy with some financial difficulties and instead finds himself with many of his own. As luck would have it who else is coming to stay but Freddy's tax agent, Rodney Percival (Rene Harreman). As a result of some creative tax cuts, Freddy and Pop find themselves assuming the identities of the multiple staff members who are supposed to work at the hotel. The real trouble starts when Whisper (Alex Milosevic) arrives with his pregnant wife Faith (Alana Hamblyn). He has come to see that Freddy makes good on some outstanding gambling debts and is agreeably menacing in the role. Professor Hogg (Gerry Raymond) steals the show as the doddering local old boy and works well with his daughter Ada Hogg (Trish Willing). They arrive having escaped the perils of fishing photography, and are just in time to deliver the multitude of babies as they come tumbling into the world. Rounding off the cast is the Bishop (Andy Macfarlane). Tight-lipped and down-to-business, he tries to bring some sense to the horseplay around him. Written by Michael Pertwee in 1969, She's Done it Again is a strong example of British farce. Fast-moving, the play is thick with camp humour and double entendre, and there is more than a slight resemblance to the classic Fawlty Towers (even down to the Spanish waiter). Casting is for the most part very good and the production runs smoothly. Fans of the genre should enjoy the play, although it is certainly an acquired taste and will not be to everyone's liking. But overall the Phoenix Ensemble should be pleased with their efforts: I think the audience were. — Damian Sommerlad (Performance seen: 19th September 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Phedra Queensland Theatre Company What’s this? Greek tragedy without draped women wailing at the opening? That’s right. In Michael Gow’s direction of Racine’s Phaedra for the QTC the opening is far out man. A bare-chested, barefooted, leathery-legged Hippolytus is interrogated by his tutor Theramenes dresses like an associate professor from the ANU. Up from the lower deck steps a pearl-throated Oenone, the nurse, who is Queen Elizabeth II to a tee, from grey coiffure to dainty shoes, lemon-gold outfit and all. Then Queen Phedra emerges from the depths, clutching her tiara, like Princess Diana on a bumpy night. We seem to be in a Buck Palace ballroom whose painting and furnishings have been banished by a sinister stairway to the basement but the gigantic Phantom of the Opera chandelier has been left aloft to alternately smolder and blaze to suit the undulating emotional pitches and to respond to invocations to the gods. Only a grim upstage doorway recalls the gloomy gateway resonant of Greek tragedy. This dour door reminds us that Racine’s pre-Revolutionary French Phedra is a derivative of the Greek heavy-metal Hippolytus of the Euripedes of Medea fame. But what initially seems brazenly bizarre soon acquires poetic perspective. Once Jason Klarwein’s Hippolytus and Leo Wockner’s Theramenes have hooked us with their hefty expositions and when Penny Everingham’s Oenone and Anita Hegh’s Phedra have brought Forbidden Love to the surface, dramatic fusion is swift. As the sickly plot thickens, the darkly-serpentine, slow-pacing Panope (who in this production also absorbs Ismene’s role) of Jodie Le Vesconte and the lolliepoppy-innocuous (on the surface) Princess Aricia of Rebecca Dale nalance on another beautifully in the framing of the pivotal characters. At last through the deadly doorway enters the much mentioned King Theseus, the reports of whose death have been greatly exaggerated. Symbolising the head of this dysfunctional royal family, Steven Grives’ grave appearance and gritty voice counterpoint sharply the insecurities of those who interlock with him. Though Phedra has the reputation of being a sexy play about incest, it is nothing of the kind. Phedra’a love for her stepson is not reciprocated and never comes within cooee of being consummated, and even if it were it would not be incest, since he is not her blood relative. The word incest is in the play but the drama is driven by Phedra’s internal obsession, bred of her inability to come to terms with herself and with those she collides with. Personally I think that Racine weakened the Euripedes original by stripping from Phedra the sin of lying to her husband Theseus. Racine makes Oenone guilty of telling this lie, which in the earlier play is contained in a suicide note written by Phedra. It is not easy to believe that the nurse Oenone would so slander Hippolytus, though Penny Everingham skillfully develops some degree of cunning in this character. Michael Gow is also an opera director. No doubt he has aided and abetted the cast’s handling of the highly operatic six-stressed rhyming couplets of Robert David Macdonald’s toey translation, which often echoes the French Alexandrine lines of Racine. Since much of the play’s power stems from its poetry, it is great to find the cast speaking with verve and variety and (most of the time) with clarity. They are not afraid of comic pointings on the one hand and power punching on the other. Furthermore they all succeed in making the long speeches seem to be the improvised releasing of inner tensions, agonies and the ectasies, rather than the calculated displays of rhetoric. I loved Hippolytus’s attempts to connect with his father, Phedra’s inner incandescence, Oenone’s cross-weaving of compassion and criticism, Theseus’s ultimate agonised awareness and Theramenes’ heart-broken eye-witness account of Hippolytus’s horrific ending. A remarkable union of lighting and sound effects, both pulsing in response to the play’s poetry, is achieved by Matt Scott and Brett Collery. Robert Kemp’s inventively exotic spatial and clothing designs banish traditional clichés and help power this production to its unforgettable sunset. — Paul Sherman (Performance seen: 18th September 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead Nash Theatre If you take a few minutes to read the potted bios of all those involved in this production you’ll find you are being entertained by an ensemble of very enthusiastic, mainly young, and mainly fresh graduates, several in the performing arts, and all committed to the theatre. And that exuberance comes through this production of the challenging play that they’ve taken on. Playwright Tom Stoppard doesn’t make it easy for anyone, in the complex script that he’s woven around the idea of two minor characters who don’t have to search for an author (why would you, after all, when you’d already been created by the best?), but are searching for meaning in their imaginary lives. And, in so doing, he has deliberately converted this very human quest into a witty two-dimensional play of and on words. For which you do need to keep your wits about you, as the dialogue weaves extracts from Hamlet through discussions and discursions of matters philosophical, philological, semantic and grammatical. As well as highly comical. Stoppard assumes that the audience comes, at best, with the solid intellectual base of a classical education, and — at the very least — with a knowledge of Hamlet. Which made the question of one member of the audience to another at the interval of the performance that I attended all the more poignant, when she asked her neighbour :Are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern dead?". This, in the context of the play itself, is an understandable question. Since Matt Bell as the solemnly naïve Rosencrantz and Paul Fulwood as the larrikin Guildenstern (or vice versa, according to the program notes ….. is this some sort of written test?) raise the spectre of dead men walking as they manage to combine the existentialism of Waiting for Godot with the recurring events of Groundhog Day. And, after a slow start, they make a most engaging pair of characters, who gradually come into their own as they struggle with their place in the play in which they play such a minor role, in a way which gets you on side until — finally — you are feeling for them rather than laughing at them. Other capable performances come from Arian King, the leader of the Tragedians (who are the players of the play within the play within the play), and — after another slowish start — Christian Wilmer who gets nicely deranged in his role as Hamlet. As for Jonathon Strugnell, who plays Polonius, it seems that the line in his bio of "finding something theatrical to throw himself at" (when he feels the acting fever), should be taken quite literally. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone being hurled around and dropped without apparent damage, from such high places as he was when a corpse in Hamlet’s hands. Rebecka Collins is a winsome if somewhat bland Ophelia, and the overall youthfulness of the cast only becomes a problem in the more senior roles of Uncle Claudius and Mother Gertrude. Andrew Barnes and Angela Peters look too young to give these characters credibility, and are much more comfortable in their other guise as two of the Tragedians. At the same time, as one of the three costume makers for this production, Peters and her colleagues Brigitte Churchill and Anna Siddens share the credit for the timely atmosphere of the play with composer Christine Smale, against Anthony Dann’s minimalist sets which give the actors the space they need for swift switches between the various levels of action highlighted by Simon Hourigan. Through which, by the end, director Melissa Maclean can be satisfied that she has attained her goal of winning some sympathy for two characters who, as she points out, are rarely grieved for in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. And in the vibrant atmosphere of the Nash Theatre, where the youthfulness of the performers is largely matched by that of the audience, it is good to see the revival of a play that doesn’t offer easy answers to the hard questions of life and death. — Anne Ring (Performance seen: 28th August 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Say Cheese Irish Theatre Group (Metro Arts Theatre) Having had very little to do with Irish culture save for St Patrick's day, leprechauns and bad jokes, the prospect of seeing Brisbane Irish Theatre Group present Say Cheese was somewhat of a curiosity. Directed by Ellen Rafferty, Bernard Farrell's play exposes a tangy snapshot of Irish culture presenting strong characters and potent dialogue. Valentine and Bridie Fagan are "Ireland's happiest couple", or so Celtic Cheese promoter Mr Bradshaw would have us believe. Heather Fagan has submitted 150 cheese wrappers and entered her parents in the competition, and they have won. Their prize? Fame and fortune, along with the opportunity to re-enact their wedding as it was on St valentine's day, 30 years before. The event is to be videoed for Celtic Cheese, complete with original honeymoon suite, bridesmaid Goldie and best man Rory Henderson. Making the occasion extra special will be the appearance of their long-lost son Ray, who is to return after 11 years away with the Canadian special forces. All of this takes place under the observant eye of hotel manager Mr L'Estrange and hotel maid Julie. What results is a dialogue-driven drama, performed within the confines of the hotel suite. Plastered with cheesy (pardon the pun) valentines decorations, Julie (Caroline Woods) enters the room, flitting here and there as she dusts before the big day. Woods is convincingly fanciful and eager to please under the thumb of hotel manager, Mr L'Estrange (Diarmuid Cronin). Tight lipped and earnest, Cronin's composure demonstrates amusing restraint, his eyes bulging as he discusses the pros and cons of feeding nuts to blonde gorillas. Then there is the John Wayne-quoting Mr Bradshaw (Quentin Ellison). Ellison gives an enthusiastic performance as the tireless PR man for Celtic Cheese. He drives himself to despair, trying to find the ultimate "angle" with which to sell Val (Joe Burke) and Bridie (Marie Hayes). Much of the play's charm indeed lies in the chemistry between these two characters. Both are comfortable with their roles as they squabble about this and that. Bridie tries to shape a reluctant Val into something she deems palatable to the cameras, all in an effort to keep Heather happy. Triona Lee plays the fragile Heather with gushing charm, creating some amusing word plays. She copes with the surrounding fiasco when she remembers to "stay positive, take your pills". Ray is played by David Fowles whose experience doing stand-up comedy is apparent in his comical timing. He is suitably timid throughout the performance, having received a welcome home that was perhaps unexpected. Interesting is the interaction between Goldie (Eileen Ryan) and Rory (Brent O'Neill). Ryan is very good as the eccentric highland veterinarian with a penchant for neutering. O'Neil is a lot of fun as the beer swilling best man who has been living in the Australian outback, "down amongst the Aborigines and kangaroos". Boisterous as you like, his reappearance sparks some old flames and tensions flare. Adding to the happy throng Myles and Peter Moore, the "perfectionist" cameraman and sound recordist. They are to document the occasion for Celtic Cheese. Malcolm Jobson and Joe Ryan work well together, Jobson manic and Ryan pedantic as he searches for an elusive buzzing blue bottle. Completing the party is Father Shanusshessy (John Audley), the unwitting priest whose job it is to marry the happy couple a second time. However things as it turns out are never that easy. "What we are talking about are skeletons in the cupboard," as Mr Bradshaw puts it. Indeed that seems to sum up the primary themes of the play. Farrell uses strong Irish and Australian stereotypes in terms of family dynamics to demonstrate the hypocritical veneer that people can be compelled to create in the quest for happiness. This is presented so the audience has the option of digging beneath the surface and examining the dirt within the relationships, or being picked up by the play's charm and enjoying the fun as it arises. At times the cast seem rather dishevelled on the stage, and certain points seem somewhat lacking in momentum. On the other hand, several moments are golden and a delightful rhythm develops. The stage warms with the glow of people having fun with their work, and the audience respond as a result. The laughter keeps coming and Say Cheese it certainly succeeds as a good night at the theatre. Not a bad promotional item either. I left with a hankering for camembert and crackers. — Damian Sommerlad (Performance seen: 21st August 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine 365 Ways of Doing and Undoing Orientalism / Flight Expressions Dance Company & Hong Kong City Contemporary Dance Company 365 Ways of Doing and Undoing Orientalism, choreographed by Willy Liang, Sang Jijia, and Xing Liang is performed by the dancers of City Contemporary Dance Company from Hong Kong. Exploring whether or not there is change in history, life and tradition, it is presented in four segments representing the four seasons. Autumn is presented with dancers in hats with long feathers, that flick effectively when they move their heads. The girls have costumes with extra long sleeves that swirl around them as they dance. We also see dancers with swords, spears, a knife and a flag. All of these props are used very effectively as they are twirled and swung throughout the dance. The female dancers in Spring appear with various instruments, as if making up a band. Later the dancers use these instruments as if they were a totally different prop, for example, a gun, a golf club, and even a walking aid. We see men in masks, and a spectacular dragon dance. Summer is definitely the sexiest piece in this act. We have a couple being very passionate with each other on a bed. It covers many themes of the passion of the bedroom and lovemaking, and ultimateley shows the power that women have over men in this environment. We see the rest of the company as the revolutionary army, giving the audience the sense that the same passion can be found in both these situations. In Winter, a conclusion approaches as the dancers bring together all the props and styles of the previous seasons. It makes the audience think about whether or not there is change, and that maybe everything happens for a reason and will always follow a tradition. The music for this ballet is very appropriate and suits the various pieces well. Silvio Chan's costumes are simple but extremely effective. The set, also designed by Chan, is exciting and mysterious, and as it grows becomes more impressive. The colours of the set and costumes help portray the mood of each piece and season, as does the lighting design by Jo Phoa. Xing Liang and Wu Yisan deserve special mention for their bedroom antics in the Summer scene. Their total abandonment and commitment to each other and the movement is simply breathtaking. Every dancer in the company is of an exeptionally high standard, and captures and keeps the audience's attention. What audiences will find fabulous about this piece is the absolute spectacle that it is. It is always wonderful to have a touring company from overseas showing our audiences another culture and style, yet still basing it in the familiar communication that is dance. We are then treated to Expressions Dance Company performing Flight! This piece is based on the definition of the word flight, and the various meanings and themes associated with it. As choreographer, Maggi Sietsma discovered many different meanings of the word, and decided to base this work on the act of flying or fleeing, running away. The story centres around a character named Dave, and how he copes with various aspects of his life. How he copes with love, his mother, past memories, and demons within his own mind. Once he frees his mind of these demons, is when he can truly take flight. Sietsma’s choreography is, as always, outstanding. The quirky style really draws you in and surprises as to what is going to happen next. The athleticism of the dancers is amazing, as is their dance ability. The set and costumes designed by Greg Clarke are simple yet effective, and don’t distract too much from the story. One of the inventive ideas is the use of helium balloons, adding greatly to the scene. Seeing Dave throw himself at the wall at the back of the space is also a powerful moment. The lighting design by Abel Valls is stark yet effective, and helps create the mood. The soundtrack is a well compiled range of styles that complements both story and choreography. Some parts of the piece are a little long, but generally the audience's attention is captured the whole time. This ballet really shows the insecurities of men, and almost exaggerates this theme in a positive way. The use of words throughout the piece is effective, and adds to the atmosphere. The appearance of the guys as various superheroes is comical and extremely well done. It is rather ironic, for a contemporary company, that one of the showstopper moments of the piece is an absolute classical ballet step performed by Ryan Males as a superhero when he says “watch me fly”, and does turning jetes around the stage, to the obvious delight of the audience. It just proves that all styles of dance need that classical basis, and that the really talented dancers, no matter what style they perform, always have classical training behind them. Overall, these two companies provide a night of exquisite entertainment, and should be congratulated on their efforts and achievements. Whether you are an avid dance fan, or have never seen dance live before, this show has something for everyone, and is well worth a night out. — Tamsin Sutherland (Performance seen: 16th August 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Twelfth Night Harvest Rain Theatre Company From Harvest Rain is another entertaining, family-oriented production of a Shakespeare comedy. It keeps almost enough of the text to satisfy Bard buffs and plays up the comic elements uproariously to keep the groundlings endlessly amused, while keeping everyone's toes tapping with a strong musical component of popular '80s numbers. Director Terri Brabon shows great ingenuity in her concept of the play and her deployment of the cast. Played out on a narrow strip with seating on both sides, the production makes use of tall structures at each end of the stage to provide ministages and dramatic entrance points. Most memorable is Sarah McCoy's regal and gothic entrance with her followers down a frighteningly steep set of stairs, while a recurring theme on stage left is the performers' platform in the "Elephant Karaoke Bar". Josh McIntosh deserves full credit for the production design, involving multiple uses for these two towers. The cast work very well as a team, and there are many splendid performances. Peter Cottrell is a most effective Malvolio, both as imperious steward and grinning swain. Grant Couchman is a perfect Sir Toby Belch, of almost Falstaffian quality. Nick Backstrom is a very tough bovver-boy Antonio (in stark contrast to his previous role on this stage as a shortpants-wearing schoolboy). Peter Laughton acts and sings most entertainingly as the clown, Feste. Abigail Gallagher as Viola and Jason Chatfield as her separated brother Sebastian are each convincing in their roles. Sir Toby's partners-in-crime Leigh Walker as Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Tim O'Connor as Fabian (made up to look like the long-forgotten singer of that name), as well as Bil Campbell Hurry as Maria, are a marvellous comic combination. Chris Kellett's Duke Orsino is suitably aristocratic and love-lorn, while Sarah McCoy as the object of his affections, Olivia, shows a fine contrast between her contempt for most of those about her, and her growing affection for the messenger boy, Cesario. Completing the cast are Joel Dullroy, Stephen Geronimos, Kate Hickey, Vicki Millar, Naomi Price, Beau Quailey and David Waller, who rock their way through the show with talent, dedication and obvious enjoyment, as does veteran Brisbane performer "Hugh Taylor", whom it is a delight to see in the spotlight in the karaoke bar, as well as in various character cameo roles. The production includes all kinds of nonsense with bicycles, roller skates, train noises and the like, but not too much to be distracting. Highlights of the show include the various fights between aggressive and reluctant pugilists (well done Jason King), the madhouse scene, the mischievous quartet's trickery of Malvolio (Shakespeare's very naughty joke in this scene was missed by most of the youthful audience) and of course the rhythmic music. While it cannot be said that "it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound that breathes upon a bank of violets", it works well in this fun-filled production, which has the potential to be a great introduction to Shakespeare. (Memo to teachers: Never underestimate your influence. Your words and actions can live on in your pupils' minds for decades to come. Seeing this play brought back vividly that I was introduced to it as a 14-year-old by an enthusiastic English teacher who charismatically took us through the story and the characters — explaining that Duke Orsino was in love with love, while the Countess Olivia was in love with her grief — and acting out Malvolio's attempts to woo Olivia with his yellow stockings, crossed garters and uncomfortable smile.) — John Henningham (Performance seen: 15th August 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine How the Other Half Loves Front Row Theatre Sir Alan Ayckbourn is internationally renowned for his clever farces exploring sexual politics and social class. How the Other Half Loves is a prime example of his successful formula at work. There’s the usual parade of lies, suspicions and agonising misunderstandings driving the tangled plot forward and the audience to distraction, which is all very well and good if you’re into that kind of thing. Frank and Fiona Foster (Jeff Mitchell and Bernadette Smith) are our couple from the upper crust. Frank is the manager at the firm at which the thuggish Bob Phillips (Mark Fell) and the gormless William Featherstone (Paul Newman) work. Bob lives with his wife Teresa (Leila Elbahy) and baby in a London flat which is only slightly less chaotic than their combative marriage. In an effort to cover a brief romantic dalliance, Bob and Fiona tell their respective spouses that William and his wife Mary (Michele Williams) are having marital problems. William and Mary are then invited over for dinner parties (of course!). From there, the whole thing escalates into an amusing mess of supposition, misdirected accusations and repressed emotion. The real genius in this play is the parallel action occurring simultaneously in the one space, extending even to concurrently-staged dinner parties on two subsequent nights. Rather than blocking off two domestic spaces on the stage and intercutting between them, the living/dining rooms of the Fosters and the Phillips are cunningly interwoven. Director/set designer Christopher Sargent has done a great job of creating overlapping yet distinct households in the same small space, and the actors rise remarkably well to the task of remaining focussed on their own scenario, while allowing the action in the "other household" to continue to unfold. It's an ingeniously immediate way of relating how these parallel and entwined lives overlap. Jeff Mitchell is undisputedly the star of this production. Playing Frank Foster with exactly the right believable balance of vagueness and authority, he is consistently fun to watch. Although perhaps slightly "mature" for their roles, Paul Newman and Michele Williams put in strong performances as the inept and befuddled Featherstones (somewhat confusingly labelled "Detweilers" in the program), with Michele Williams’ portrayal of Mary as the twitchy social phobic raising a good number of laughs. Another humorous highlight is Bernadette Smith’s euphemistic "escaping the weather" monologue in Act II. This is a solid rendition of a slightly dated farce, and a fun escapist way to spend a couple of hours on a chilly Brisbane evening. Don’t expect anything too deep or meaningful, and don’t look too closely at the plot, but if you go along expecting to have a good time you won’t be disappointed. The laughs are plentiful and the distinctive set is certainly worth a gander. In an unusually maternal finishing note, this reviewer would like to remind readers to rug up well when they attend: the well-ventilated Hamilton Town Hall isn’t heated. — Ruth Bridgstock (Performance seen: 15th August 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Lonesome West Queensland Theatre Company (Bille Brown Studio) A richly comic and very entertaining play, Lonesome West depicts the highly dysfunctional relationship between two brothers in a remote part of Ireland. The third in Martin McDonagh's Leenane trilogy (but not requiring knowledge of the other plays), it succeeds profoundly in showing the raw side of life in a deprived and violent community, and having us think about the causes and consequences of such a depressing environment. Not that McDonagh encourages analysis. In an interview he said: "People should leave a theatre with the same feeling that you get after a really good rock concert. You don't want to talk about it, you just let it buzz into you. I can't stand people analysing things. A play should be a thrill like a fantastic rollercoaster." It is indeed a rollercoaster ride we get. Fresh from burying their father, Coleman (Hayden Spencer) and Valene (Iain Gardiner) demonstrate from the outset mutual antipathy and destructiveness. Valene appears to have the upper hand, as owner of all the run-down little house's material possessions, which he jealously guards from Coleman. His whiskey in particular: he keeps his bottle in a cake tin around which he wraps copious quantities of tape, checking the level in the bottle religiously to ensure Coleman hasn't been helping himself. His religiosity also extends to collecting little plastic figurines of the saints, which he displays on the mantelpiece and textracolors prominently with his initial to establish their ownership. These figurines come to a sticky end at a later stage. The brothers seem subhuman, lacking ordinary compassion, care or dignity. When a friend suicides Coleman plagues the lad's mother with interrogations about whether vol-au-vents will be served at the wake. They derive malicious pleasure from reading of other people's misfortunes in trashy magazines or in celebrating the dastardly exploits of the local St Trinians'-like under-12 girls' football team, who are coached by parish priest Fr Welsh. By the end of Act I there has been such a laying on of mutual distrust, deep hurts, relentless goading and a climactic act of gross destruction of one brother's cherished possessions, that you spend interval wondering how on earth McDonagh is going to resolve it all. But he does, although not before visiting upon his characters even more ghastly torments. The production is well cast; the acting is first-rate. Spencer is his usual over-the-top self, exuberant, hilarious and very physical. Gardiner is superb as his petty-minded younger brother. Bryan Probets as Fr Welsh is a gentle and touchingly humane figure, a whiskey priest feeling helpless and blaming himself in the face of an onslaught of murder and self-destruction in the community. Kellie Jones as the fresh and nubile schoolgirl Girleen is a perfect foil to the behavior of the three males. The actors work so well together that it is difficult to pick a "man of the match", but I lean towards Gardiner: his quirky mannerisms, scratchings, tilts of the head, quizzical looks, whining and whimpering intonations are just exquisite. A tiny gesture by Gardiner at the conclusion of Act 1 has the audience chuckling as they file out for interval. Aside from the exaggerations of comedic theatre, Lonesome West leaves you pondering how such people come to be, or perhaps how thin a veneer civilisation is. But people of such primitive and antisocial orientation occur at all levels of all societies, and are within each of us: "Well we're all cruel aren't we," McDonagh has said. Yet for all their grossness the pair have a distinct likeability. Clearly the priest sees in them the hope of redemption, and they finally begin to discern this themselves. But at some points poor Fr Welsh in his depths of despair and drunkenness becomes like the brothers he is trying to save — in one richly comedic moment railing against his own under-12s football team. Loneliness is clearly a fundamental issue, particularly for the well-meaning priest who quite simply has not a soul to whom he can relate. Loneliness also figures in the life of Girlene, with her yearnings for half-decent masculine company. The emptiness in the brothers' relationship raises all sorts of questions about their community and their nurturing. The little that is said about their father betrays a thoughtless and reckless individual whose main claim to fame is yelling abuse at nuns; the silence about the boys' mother is eloquent. The production boasts a splendid set — walls peppered with gunshot, dilapidated furniture, a shotgun on the wall adjoining religious emblems — and transforms into a river bank, with overhanging branches and rippling stream, with great light and sound work. The characters are clad in suitably daggy dress. There are also clever effects involving the stove and the misues to which it is put. There is some great pugilistic action under Scott Witt's fight direction. On opening night some of the fist throwing came across more as air punches than is normally the case, but there are certainly a lot of them, not to mention menacing activities with knives and shotguns. It's certainly not your everyday family. The cast have been well coached in dialogue, displaying very convincing Irish accents — at times incomprehensible, which perhaps is part of the verisimilitude. Speaking of which, two lapses: I would have expected a lot of smoking from these sorts of characters (although to do this right would have exposed cast and audience to considerable health risks); and it is surprising to find the play is set in the present day, rather than in the mid-20th century or earlier. I am sure that a priest living a life of loneliness and despair in a contemporary remote Irish parish would only be an email or mobile phone call away from pastoral assistance, and an army of social workers would surely have bundled off the two brothers by now. But these are the most minor of quibbles. Lonesome West is a splendid show. It puts to the test McDonagh's own youthful antipathy to theatre: "I'm coming to the theatre with a disrespect for it. I'm coming from a film fan's perspective on theatre. ... Theatre bored the socks off me. I only ever went to see film stars." Director Jon Halpin shows a deft hand in making it all work so well. It is an excellent script; it would be difficult to imagine a better production. — John Henningham (Performance seen: 7th August 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Children's Hour Centenary Theatre Group The Children’s Hour is an American classic that explores the impact a lie can have on people’s lives. In this case the big lie is a schoolgirl’s accusation that the headmistresses at her country girls’ school are lovers. The claim of a lesbian affair scandalises the school community and ruins the lives of teachers Karen Wright (Jane Cameron), Martha Dobie (Bianca Cole) and Karen’s fiancé Joseph Cardin (Guy Smith), a country doctor. This is a beautifully crafted play and quite believable. While the treatment of lesbianism on stage is no longer the scandalous event as when The Children’s Hour was first performed on Broadway in 1934, allegations of misconduct by teachers is a perennial issue. This must be close to every teacher’s worst nightmare — falsely accused of misconduct by a malicious and manipulative adolescent. In any case, it is not the nature of allegation that makes this play so powerful… it is the impact the allegation has on people’s lives. In 1952 author Lillian Hellman had first-hand experience of unsubstantiated allegations and innuendo when she appeared before the House Un-American Activities Committee. She showed great personal courage by refusing to name and “hurt innocent people” who might have communist associations. Consequently she was blacklisted in Hollywood and managed financially by revising and reviving The Children’s Hour. The 1952 version of the play has been used for this production. Knowledge of the writer’s personal circumstances adds even greater poignancy to the plot. Director Brenda White has staged the play as a period piece, complete with living room furniture appropriate to the Wright-Dobie school (Acts 1 and 3) and the home of Mary’s well to do grandmother (Act 2). Some subtle changes — bookcases become display cases, a crystal whisky decanter and glasses are placed on the table — cleverly transform one living room set to the next. White has also chosen to present the play with American accents, something the cast handles surprisingly well, though I wonder what, if anything, the accents contribute to our understanding of the play. A feature of The Children’s Hour is the performance of the seven young cast members who play students, Peggy Rogers (Kate Sweetman), Catherine Miller (Christine Tait), Lois Fisher (Amanda Parkinson), Evelyn Munn (Ilsa Wynne-Hoelscher), Helen Burton (Gemma Paschelk), Rosalie Wells (Amy Campbell) and Mary Tilford (Amy Coutts). Coutts plays the manipulative Mary with just the right blend of adolescent self-centredness, bitchiness and charm while 15-year-old St Aidan’s schoolgirl Kate Sweetman also shines in her role as Mary’s room mate Peggy. Of the more mature players, Jane Cameron gives a wonderfully even performance, while Bianca Cole, Lynda Fox (grandmother Amelia Tilford), and Susan Marquet (actress, sometime teacher and Miss Dobie’s aunt Lily Mortar) all provide excellent moments. It’s a long show (two hours 45 minutes with two 15 minute intervals) yet it moves very quickly. The third act is particularly gripping as the awful results of the lies and accompanying innuendo become tragically obvious. We have a procession of powerful scenes as our players confront their personal demons — Karen Wright and Martha Dobie; Karen Wright and Joseph Cardin; Karen Wright and Lily Mortar; and Karen Wright and Amelia Tilford. — John Algate (Performance seen: 2nd August 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Lady's Not For Burning Brisbane Arts Theatre "In my plays I want to look at life — at the commonplace of existence — as if we had just turned a corner and run into it for the first time." Christopher Fry's The Lady's Not For Burning certainly lives true to his sentiments, with a certain zaniness thrown in for good measure. Essentially a romantic comedy, it proves a good choice for Brisbane Arts Theatre, allowing upcoming talent to work alongside veterans of the stage. Fry's script is similar in style to Shakespeare's, with the dialogue part drama, part verse littered with clever poetic device. But if with subtlety Shakespeare uses a quill, Fry uses a sledgehammer, surprisingly giving the script an overt sense of reality behind its quirky façade. As a medieval tale, much of the show relies on its design which succeeds splendidly with Una Hollingworth and Janet Cook's intricately beautiful set and costuming. Incidental music composed by Tim Wotherspoon adds a suitable wistfulness which complements the action on stage. The story is told in 1400 where we soon discover that Jennet Jourdemayne (Louise Marshall) has been accused of witchery. As the hysteria builds outside, she begs the mayor (Hugh Buckham) to dismiss the sentence of her execution. Meanwhile the mayor has been dealing with Thomas Mendip (Peter James) who has climbed through the window demanding to be hung. If that wasn't enough the mayor's philandering nephew, Humphrey (Andrew Ross) due to be married to convent girl Alizon (Melanie Zanetti) soon discovers that the romantic interests between the copying clerk, Richard (Marcus McSorley) and his fiancée are mutual. Newcomer James heads the cast ably with a sarcastic humour necessary for the role. Marshall is brilliantly believeable, well-spoken and sensitively treats her role with emotion. McSorley also displays his acting ability, particularly in the later scenes. Andrew Ross and Marcus Costello as brothers Humphrey and Nicholas err towards the melodramatic but manage to receive many laughs from the crowd. Much humour also comes from Buckham whose mayor is as manically zany as he is corrupt. The love story that buds and blossoms between McSorley and Zanetti's characters is well maintained, even when the focus is elsewhere. Margaret (Alison Fraser), the mayor's sister, is hilarious and suitably highly strung. Director Pat Wallace has created an interesting theatre piece with what is essentially a difficult script due to its poetic wordiness. One criticism lies in the occasionally rushed delivery of lines with which the audience has to think very quickly. Most of the actors are guilty of this, but James in particular needs to pay close attention. A minor quibble is the characters' accents, which range from Australian to Irish to sing-song Cockney. A uniform and neutral accent needs to be adopted by all to not only increase authenticity but make the speech easier to understand. The opening night crowd turned up in force, and few would have been disappointed at the confidence of this production. While you may hear vocabulary that you never hoped would have existed you are assured a night of medieval madcap comedy with a romantic twist. — Grant Pegg (Performance seen: 1st August 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine X-Stacy Nash Theatre Imagine a darkened nightclub with a DJ spinning loud music and people dancing. It sounds like just another night out in the Valley — and it is. Only this particular event is not happening at a nightclub but at the Nash Theatre in its current production, X-stacy. The play traces the story of Ben (Cain Thompson) and his mother Anne (Gwenda Bright) as they try to deal with the death of youngest family member Stacy (Kat Henry) from a drug overdose. Whereas Ben seems content to sulk around, angry at everyone and everything, his mother has instead chosen to devote her energy towards religion and study. Their inability to communicate with each other is shown in scene after scene of misunderstanding and frustration. Into their lives comes Zoe (Laura Pike), who rents Stacy's old room. Her bubbly presence changes the dynamics of the household as, much to his annoyance, she continually challenges Ben about his bad attitude. The play is a well told and well structured, with flashbacks handled particularly well. These scenes have a dream-like quality with characters from the past appearing on stage while present-day characters walk off. The flashbacks also succeed in portraying the exaggerated emotions that usually accompany painful memories. Ben remembers an unrealistically wide-eyed and innocent sister he should have cared for better. Anne remembers a daughter who became increasingly rebellious and out of control. Their collective guilt over Stacy's death is obvious. The audio-visuals of the play are atmospheric and a highlight of the play. Visual producer Justin Overell projects a variety of images onto screens set up on both sides of the stage. Each image complements the action on stage — for example, images of stained glass in the church scenes, and household interiors in the family home scenes. The music and sound by Mark Petler are also very well done, with pumping music during the nightclub scenes and, more impressively, dialogue that is clear even when the music is playing. Director Jess Conoplia has created a play that accurately depicts the rave sub-culture and tells a compassionate story about the trauma Stacy's death has had on her loved ones. Conoplia succeeds in presenting the consequences of drug use without moralising or judging the characters. In her director's notes she says the role of the play is to "stimulate conversion and hopefully facilitate open discussion between people of all backgrounds but specifically the likes of parents and kids". Cain Thompson brings an impressive physicality to his role as Ben. You can feel his unfocused anger at the world around him. However, he does not seem as focused in the quieter scenes where more nuanced behaviour would have been suitable. Anthony West plays the smug and self-important DJ Fergus well, contrasting this nicely with his dual role as the humble, well-meaning priest, Father Paul. Kat Henry has a more difficult role as she is only in the exaggerated flashback scenes where her Stacy is hyper-active, over-the-top and rebellious. Laura Pike is a feisty and enthusiastic Zoe and delivers some great one-liners throughout the play. Gwenda Bright brings an appropriate level of parental concern to her role as Anne. And Skye Woods as Jenna clearly shows the guilt she feels over the death of her friend. Margery Forde's script is interesting, breaking up the serious topic of drug use with some great snappy one-liners. X-stacy is an even-handed look at the drug culture of the rave scene. This neutral stance gives the characters room to tell their own story and it is fascinating to witness the different ways they choose to deal with the pain of Stacy's death. — Edmund Tadros (Performance seen: 17th July 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Don Giovanni Opera Queensland (Conservatorium Theatre) Giovanni is a serial seducer, a date-rapist, a manipulative libertine bordering on the psychotic. But his reckless, lusty, crazy-brave approach to life makes him a chick magnet — and like all bad guys, he attracts good girls. It's a powerful and exciting story that has endured for centuries, not least for its supernatural elements, its strong themes of vengeance and divine punishment, and perhaps its hope (unrealised) of redemption. While the protagonist is not destined for heaven, Mozart's music is heavenly beyond human deserving. Opera Queensland do this work so well. They deserve their sell-out season. This production was first presented in Brisbane in 1996. It is perfectly designed for the intimate and acoustically brilliant Conservatorium Theatre, and orchestra and singers combine seamlessly in creating a beautiful sound, supported by visually satisfying sets, costumes and lighting. Director David Bell has created an intense and intelligent reading of the opera. His notes in the program detail his perception of a Giovanni "so alienated from his own humanity that he is inured to his own actions". This alienation can be sensed through the low wall in Bill Haycock's semi-circular set behind which trellises, gauze curtains and mirrors give an extraordinary depth and hints of intricate activity. The production features a truly startling final scene, where the now palpably deranged Giovanni has made Leporello become as a dog, complete with collar, chain and dogfood bowl, and then reveals his banquet for his visitor shaped in the form of the Commendatore's naked ravished daughter. Brilliant lighting effects flow from David Walters. The final descent into hell is spellbinding, with its stark image of a cold hell rather than a fiery furnace, better representing the last physical feelings Giovanni experiences as his hand is clutched by the dead Commendatore's. The singers perform well vocally and as actors. Argentinian-born and Sydney-trained Jose Carbo is a stunning Giovanni, totally in command vocally while injecting a Latin passion to his outrageous behavior. Queensland Conservatorium trained Rosemarie Arthars is an Elvira to be reckoned with. Her voice and body movements make clear her combined passion for and abhorrence at Giovanni, which she cannot resolve until the very end. Meanwhile, I particularly liked the sustained vocal clarity and power of Rachelle Durkin's Anna. Brisbane's Paul Darveniza clowns his way through the Leporello role as a perfect foil to Giovanni, and vocally holds up his part well. His catalogue aria comes across well (memo to props: haven't you got a bigger book for those 2065 names? And where was Giovanni's mandolin?). Chinese-born Kun Xie, whose high tenor voice is well suited for Don Ottavio, gives a good representation of the doting but rather wimpish fiance of Anna. Vocally he was not so sure in Act 2 on opening night. By contrast Korean Hye Seoung Kwon's peasant girl Zerlina started a little unsteadily but really warmed to the part, representing well her growth in character. Adam Miller (reminiscent of Bryn Terfel) robustly sings and acts a continually outraged Masetto. Bass Greg Scott gives a rich sound as the Commendatore in all but the higher registers, making for some beautiful male trio work when he provides the anchor against Giovanni and Leporello. Nicholas Milton produces a constantly beautiful and well-balanced sound from the Queensland Orchestra, with the added element of his own playing of the Con's precious fortepiano. The boutique chorus, including the two popular South African visitors Vuyani Mlinde and Desmond Ntshebe (whose homeland were providing the Australian Wallabies their own vision of hell as the post-show party kicked off), provide a rich clear sound, as well as providing great acting support as hoods, peasants and all-purpose bovver-boys. Discovering from the program notes that da Ponte wrote Giovanni's lines while fondling a 16-year-old servant girl helps explain the vitality of the libretto — and adding to audience appreciation of the text are the large surtitles with Lionel Slater's amusing free translation. — John Henningham (Performance seen: 12th July 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Into the Woods Phoenix Ensemble, Beenleigh One doesn’t often think of great theatre happening in a tin shed. With the foyer doubling as a green room and kids’ night football matches played over the road, the Pavilion Theatre in Beenleigh is unprepossessing, to say the least. The audience has a total of 85 seats to choose from, and a postage-stamp stage to look at. An orchestra would have to sit outside in the carpark. So might the chorus. Despite such adversities, Phoenix Ensemble has created for our pleasure a well-balanced rendition of the Tony Award-winning fractured fairytale Into the Woods. In this version the orchestra is seamlessly replaced by two young and immensely competent keyboard players. Nick Ng and musical director Casey Chadwick are sequestered in a tiny corral to one side of the action. For 2.5 hours they squint over their blue-lit scores and show us what professional-level accompanying is all about. First staged in 1987, this Sondheim/Lapine collaboration has two distinct halves, centred around the trials and tribulations of some of our favourite fairytale characters as they wrestle with their deepest fears and desires. From the beginning it is clear that these are no ordinary Brothers Grimm archetypes — the characters are all three-dimensional, with strengths and foibles just as anyone might have. During Act 1 each character ventures into the Woods to fulfill their deepest wishes, and with intersecting stories and a few plot twists it starts to get complicated. But the second half of the production is what lifts Into the Woods from the level of amusing parody to allegory, giving us gentle insights into the nature of growing up and personal responsibility. Sondheim and Lapine want us to know about the things that happen after "happily ever after", and we definitely get to find out — births, deaths, infidelities, revenge, mental illness and homicidal giants, to name but a few. Suzanne Murphy’s direction of this complex piece is conservative yet effective. Obviously intimate with the script and previous renditions, she uses what has previously proved compelling while adding personal touches here and there. Murphy spends a lot of time creating specific moments which make for humorous watching. Audience-members should look for such gems as: Jack’s somewhat stunned cow Milky-White (complete with handle for ease of carrying), a certain Prince’s reaction to the sight of blood, and the shadow-box antics at Grandmother’s house. All this complements Sondheim’s tongue-in-cheek lyrics rather well (listen for the catchy "Agony" and its reprise and you’ll know what I mean). This musical is partially dependent on tableaux to tell simultaneous stories, the effective use of which can be difficult in a small space. Murphy shifts the audience’s focus well using a combination of lighting, moving sets and good direction of actors. We definitely don’t get bored, and we always know where to look next. The wood-nymphs (who move sets, react to the action and then melt away, beguilingly played by Ayeshah Khan and Clare Humphries) are particularly well-integrated. At the beginning some of the actors seemed a little thrown by the proximity of the audience on opening night, but they quickly settled down and adjusted the sizes of their characters to accommodate. In a small theatre actors breaking the fourth wall (interacting with the audience) may make themselves uncomfortable and the audience feel encroached upon; thankfully this only occurred once or twice during the show I saw and it didn’t detract from the overall effect. The only other puzzling thing was the odd trace of an American accent among certain members of the cast, which disappeared just as inexplicably later on. I put this down to avid watching of the Broadway DVD or listening to the CD during the rehearsal period. Interestingly, the singing voices of this cast bear a striking resemblance to those of the original Broadway production as well. The vocal balance is good, with the ensemble singing being a highlight (for which congratulations must go to Tracey Hutley and Casey Chadwick). Lionel Theunissen and Bruce Edwards as the superficial and competitive Princes turn in a professional-quality vocal performance that is enhanced by their onstage shenanigans. Chris Thomas ("The Steward") supports them well with his atrocious French accent and expansive gesturing. The interactions between Jack and his mother (ably played by newcomer Scott Johnson and the more experienced Johanne Castle) are a delight, particularly Jack’s mum’s escalating reactions to Jack’s well-meaning ineptitudes. The Baker and his wife (Luke and Tracey Hutley) have an easy onstage chemistry that carries the show forward. Little Red Riding Hood’s transformation from naïf to knife-wielding hoodlum works well, and Danika Saal’s voice (both as the Hood and as Cinderella’s mother) is lovely. Theunissen does another star turn as the sleazy vinyl-clad wolf who corrupts her, although his wolfish overtures are alas a little muffled under his getup. Likewise, Kathy Eisentrager’s soaring soprano is a little hindered by the isolating surrounds of Rapunzel’s tower (which is possibly minus foldback speakers). I’m certain this minor issue was unavoidable and to do with the physical nature of the theatre rather than the persons involved. No one will forget Richard Murphy as the tasty Bond-esque Narrator (though he is slightly less zesty as the Mysterious Man), while Trish Allen gives Cinderella an interesting maternal twist in this version. It is entertaining to see the versatile Heather Scott get into the challenging role of the Witch (originally made famous by Bernadette Peters). Heather’s "Last Midnight" had the audience on the edge of their seats, and was a good contrast to the gentler "Lament". Given Heather’s evident performing abilities, this reviewer would have liked to have seen her take a couple more risks in this role. I’m confident that through this run, she will progressively make the part more her own. Into the Woods is always quite an experience, and everybody in this strong team from Phoenix adds to it. The sets are nothing less than inspired, especially given the size of the stage and the enormous demands placed upon it. Ray Aubrey’s scenic art beautifully captures the dark mystery of the woods, and this is further enhanced by good use of lighting effects. In summing up, this reviewer is about to become uncharacteristically directorial: if you’re going to see only one show this month, think twice about paying $50-plus per ticket to see a professional show when you can pay the Phoenix Ensemble $18 to see something just as good (albeit in slightly less luxurious surrounds). Do not bring your children — there is blood, scary stuff and the odd "adult concept". Do bring your friends — all of them, even the ones who don’t usually like musicals. It’s worth it. — Ruth Bridgstock (Performance seen: 11th July 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine We Were Dancing Queensland Theatre Company Singers should be able to act. Should actors be able to sing? Three of Noel Coward's short plays written in 1935 as part of a series of 10 playlets under the title "Tonight at 8.30" form the basis of this mixed evening, with members of the company augmented by guest stars Dennis Olsen and Amanda Muggleton. First of the plays, "We Were Dancing", is best — a crisp evocation of the lives of decadent expatriates in a tropical outpost. It starts wonderfully, with Robert Kemp's set magically morphing into view: a glittering star-lit ocean framed by palms and a colonial veranda, from which our pensive characters dither about while exploring their inconsequential dilemmas. Mark Conaghan and Kellie Lazarus appear briefly as an energetically naughty couple, paving the way for Melinda Butel and Jean-Marc Russ as newly-in-love Louise and Karl. The dreamy couple's prolonged snoggery is interrupted by the elderly Hubert Charteris (Dennis Olsen) and his sister Clara (Amanda Muggleton), whose disapproval of their amorous display is understandable when we discover the marital relationship between Hubert and Louise. All sorts of teddibly British pukka behaviour ensues, as well as delightful references to Orstraylia, and the drama sorts itself out in a proper way. The cast is rounded off with a jolly good Joss McWilliam as Major Blake and a versatile Niki-J Witt as the maid, who manages an heroic extended hibernation with no apparent ill-effects. Olsen and Muggleton reappear smartly in "Red Peppers" as a vaudeville couple whom we see on-stage doing awful routines and off-stage bickering with each other and company staff, including Conaghan as their drunken conductor. In the Coward repertoire it's a famous and entertaining sketch, which the cast bring off well, with wonderful interplay with the orchestra through to the dizzyingly uproarious finale. "Shadow Play" is the least-known of the triple-bill, and deservedly so. It is a labored tale of misfit upper-class types who turn to the bottle, pills and affairs to get through their lives. Some clever stage effects evoke dreams and flash-backs but these fail to save a rather tedious text and worse songs. (It would have been better if director Michael Gow had chosen another of the original "Tonight at 8.30" plays — for example, "Still Life", later to be developed into the brilliant film "Brief Encounter".) For the production as a whole the imported talent is very good, but to my mind the outstanding actor is local lad Jean-Marc Russ, who captures his upper-class English twit characters very well. He is as delightful cheerily informing Hubert that he is in love with Hubert's wife (whom he has known only a few minutes), as in his squeamish reaction to his beloved's sandwich-chewing habits. It is no surprise when their love vanishes more quickly than the dawn (another spellbinding effect from lighting designer Matt Scott). The music ensemble led by Helen Russell sounds great — well-controlled and professional, with a good dynamic. At times it drowns out the singers, which in the circumstances is no bad thing. There is good reason for the guiding principle in musical theatre that you cast first for vocal ability and then for acting skills. The best one can say about the singing in this show is that it is of "fair average quality", which is not quite what we expect from professional theatre. (The company is of course continuing a tradition established by Coward and Gertrude Lawrence, whose singing skills lagged rather behind their acting ability.) The performers have obviously worked very hard at their intonation and they generally get this right. But there is little vocal timbre or warmth from any of them, and they tend to decline in confidence as the night wears on. To make things worse they are miked. The singers are not helped by their material: Coward's songs in this show range from the average to the awful. Another problem with the production is that most of the actresses fall short of achieving the appropriate upperclass Englishwoman accents. Melinda Butel for example has no problem with the vowels, but generally her intonation isn't right (too flat, too low) and few of the women capture the slightly tipsy sound of the English memsahib. The accent problem may contribute to Butel's not really succeeding in capturing the characterisations. Even Muggleton seems too strident in play number 1, and it is fortunate that "Red Peppers" allows her to show her command of a feisty character role. The men are better at sounding the part, especially Olsen and Russ. Ultimately I couldn't help wondering whether on the basis of this sort of material Coward deserves to survive into the 21st century. Most of his supposed wit is lame and dated. People talking up the production have been comparing him with Oscar Wilde, which is grotesque. It would be nice if we could infer some lesson about the vacuous, empty, useless lives of his amoral and self-obsessed characters, but Coward seems to admire rather than decry his subjects. He was of course writing about a class he was desperately anxious to belong to. Finally, the opening night audience succeeded in being in character in 1930s dress, but some should be told that mobile phones are very un-1930s. Perhaps QPAC should invest in some jamming technology. — John Henningham (Performance seen: 10th July 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Good Doctor Brisbane Arts Theatre The brevity of this review is not an adverse reflection on the quality of any aspect of this Arts Theatre production. The brevity is in fact intended as high praise for the production, the set and all of the performers in most of the pieces. The production is of Neil Simon’s 1973 adaption of 11 of Dr Anton Chekhov’s short stories to comedic vignettes. We often overlook that Chekov was a medical practitioner who became one of the world’s most prolific short story writers and one of its most insightful and greatest dramatists. We should also recall that he classified most of his dramatic works as comedies. Neil Simon is America’s most prolific and successful playwright. In addition to original screen plays, more Simon plays have found their way onto the silver screen than those of any other stage-writer, and his output for television is not inconsiderable. On the surface the most potent gift of this extraordinary talent is comedy — hectic, heady and honed by his New York origins. This production, seamlessly woven into a continuum by John Grey’s narrations as “The Writer”, revealed for this writer that the works of these two amazing talents are like mirror images. Chekhov is dark on the surface with the foolishness of his characters meandering just below. Simon’s comedy takes us white-water rafting on bubbling rivers of one-liners. But in every river there are rocks, and the outward humor of many of his characters masks their uncertainties and pain. It seems pointless to plot-line 11 vignettes or to endeavor to detail who played whom in which. Under Norma Allen’s disciplined direction each of the six actors brings their multiple characters to individual life (with rare and not too damaging lapses from character to caricature from a couple). Simon has shown due deference to the Russian Master and it is an evening worth a visit. But before departing, let me pay homage to Una Hollingworth. Somewhere in my memorabilia is an “Oscarette”, a small wooden carved figure won about 1978 in the then Warana Drama Festival. The name of the play I now forget. Una's set for the piece I never will, and I give much of the credit for the success of the production to it. Like her set for The Good Doctor, it was simple, compelling and a work of art in itself. — Ron Finney (Performance seen: 4th July 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Busybody Villanova Players (McElligott Theatre) Susanna Centlivre’s life reads like one of her plays. Hopelessly romanticised by her early biographers, she was born more than 300 years ago, apparently into an exiled well-to-do family. Orphaned early and subsequently mistreated by an elderly relative, she ran away from home at 14 dressed as a boy. Then she joined an acting troupe where she was welcomed as she had an uncommon talent for “breeches roles”. Taking her cross-dressing career further she was smuggled into Cambridge and there managed to receive a good education. Queen Anne’s cook fell in love with her after seeing her strut her stuff, and they eventually married, the first or perhaps second of her three marriages, some of which may have ended stickily. Throughout her fantastic life Susanna Centlivre wrote tremendously popular comic plays, many of which continued to be adored over the course of the next hundred years. Her heroines, strong and sensible, are fully prepared to use any means to ensure they achieve economic independence and love (something of a radical position in those days, and in fact Susanna’s Whig sensibilities are a central theme throughout her plays). The Busybody is a prime example of her work. Set among the wigged-and-powdered English nobility, the play deals with two couples who are desperately in love, but whose elders want to keep them apart. Our young nobles (of both genders) also want the inheritance that’s owing to them, but that’s not immediately forthcoming either. Servants conspire with their masters and mistresses through whispered messages, notes, confabulation and intrigue — the plot thickens! Then add to the recipe a marvellous seasoning: Our “Busybody”, in the form of a well-meaning, not very bright and yet incredibly nosy fop who ruins everything he touches. Of historic interest is the fact that The Busybody was one of the first plays to be performed in the Australian colonies — by a company of convicts at Sydney Cove in 1796. Villanova Players’ online “brag sheet” correctly states that with their new adaptation of The Busybody they have been fairly liberal in their “pruning” of the script. They cite 18th century overblown language and long running-time as their excuses. However, in the aid of wanting ‘‘to make it more understandable to modern audiences’’, the adaptors seem to have removed a lot of what makes the characters and the action three-dimensional. The considerable liberties taken even give the final half a significantly different ‘‘feel’’ to the first half, extending to style of language in many cases. This reviewer is left with several unanswered questions: Why has the “lowest common denominator” hatchet been used in this adaptation? Do the directors feel unequal to the task of directing something more complex, or do they not trust their audience to understand the subtleties of social and political satire? Why didn’t the actors ask for more substantial characters to play with? And why has the character of Lord Jealous Traffic undergone gender reassignment for this version? (so much for Oedipal conflict…) This adaptation is not a good introduction to Susanna Centlivre, or indeed Restoration-Sentimentalist comedy in general. This being said, there are definite sparks of fun in this rendition, particularly after interval when the intrigue reaches fever pitch. Coded notes are passed around, swords are waved, ladies go into faints, impersonations occur, and there is some absolutely hilarious bad singing. Maria Becquigny plays Miranda, one half of the “rakish” couple in this show, and one of Susanna Centlivre’s strong heroines. Of the young lovers, she offers the most interesting character (and, to be fair, is given the most opportunity to do so). She strikes a good balance between her two sides — the cunning heiress, manipulating her “Guardie” (solidly played by David Jones) into handing over her fortune, and the young lady obviously besotted by the dashing Sir George Airy (Damian Mead). Luke Monsour is amusingly foppy as the hapless busybody Marplot (“Egad!!”), and his character develops nicely. This is obviously the play's plum role, with much opportunity for fun, and Monsour does it justice. His physical mannerisms through the many phases of eavesdropping, incorrect surmising, apologising and finally (memorably) happy dancing are a joy to watch. There are impressive performances from among the supporting cast. Most notably the interaction between the plotting servants, Fran Campbell's Patch and Michael Byrnes' Whisper, is excellent and we look forward to seeing them in future roles. Emma Powell as Scentwell is another little-seen gem. On the other hand, some acting lacks commitment. Many contemporary actors are unused to the convention of “asides to the audience” as a comedic device, and some of the transitions between the action and audience commentary are unclear and a little rushed. On Saturday night there were also times when the (perhaps less experienced) actors broke out of character when the focus wasn’t “on” them, or when slightly unexpected situations occurred onstage. But the costumes are fabulous (one highlight being Marplot’s sumptuous aquamarine breeches!) and the wigs and hairdressing are superlative. Costume and hair designers will be scrambling to take a look at this show, and possibly steal hints from the masterful Leo Bradley (costumes) and Philippe (hair). The sets and props are nicely specific, and someone has created excellent little touches front-of-house with fruit refreshment on arrival, an interesting program to peruse and late baroque music before the show and during interval. With its farcical elements and cunning plots, this adaptation of The Busybody is worth seeing for a quick laugh, but is not for those with an historical interest in authentic Restoration-Sentimentalist comedy, and is probably not for most Centlivre fans. — Ruth Bridgstock (Performance seen: 5th July 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Barry Crocker's Banjo Twelfth Night Theatre For most, this one-man show on the life and work of Australian popular poet A.B. (Banjo) Paterson will be an eye-opener into the rich and varied life Paterson led — as a reporter covering the Boer War, the Boxer Rebellion and other conflicts, serving with the army as an officer in World War I, meeting Breaker Morant, Kipling and Churchill, and his friendship with literary figures J.F. Archibald and Henry Lawson. This on top of his early life of penury on a farm, his success as a lawyer and, most importantly, his flair for writing colourful verse at a time of Australian yearning for unification and myth-making. Plus his poor track record with women, his abiding and expensive affection for horse-flesh, and his capacity for doing all his money on a dream. Banjo's story includes a full treatment of the circumstances surrounding the composition of Waltzing Matilda and its subsequent evolution. Paterson was certainly a colorful character, and Crocker does a splendid job in depicting and researching his many facets. Written as well as acted by Crocker, the play takes the form of an adddress by Paterson to boys at his old school, from which flow reminiscences, poems and songs. The presentation is enlivened with toe-tapping music by Clive Lendich as well as impressive rear slides by Ian de Gruchy of colonial and early 20th Century photos — homestead interiors, shearing sheds, horse races, troops and many beautiful bush scenes. Director Katy Manning pulls it all together well. Superb in acting Paterson, Crocker is also masterful in acting, rather than simply reciting, his verse. Most of the favourites are there — A Bush Christening, Clancy of the Overflow, The Geebung Polo Club, Mulga Bill's Bicycle, plus of course The Man from Snowy River. (One to be "cut", unfortunately, is The Man from Ironbark.) The only niggle I had over the presentation was the use of amplification. Despite the interest and entertainment value of the show, it doesn't quite succeed in engaging one emotionally. Perhaps this reflects the quality of Paterson's verse, yet there is much more that could have been wrung from the human drama of Paterson's life and the core place his words occupy in the Australian consciousness. The Paterson character tells us how he wept as he heard his Waltzing Matilda being sung by Aussie troops embarking for war, but the visceral connection isn't quite there for the audience to share the tears. (And perhaps more could have been made of the profound ideological differences between Lawson and Paterson — disguised by their contrived public feud.) However we do come to understand Paterson as idealist and victim of his own dreams. We see too how Paterson's craving for military glory as a result of his family's military triumphs blinded him for too long to the catastrophic effects of war. And the combination of fine acting, good songs, a fascinating story and Banjo's clever verse makes it a good night out. — John Henningham (Performance seen: 1st July 2003) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine |
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