| Reviews: January-March 2004
|
|
www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Underpants Company B Belvoir for QTC (Playhouse, QPAC) There is so much to enjoy in The Underpants that it is hard to know where to start. Here we have a play spun around a totally absurd situation by a forgotten early 20th century European Jewish playwright, reworked by a well-known American comedian, and brought to us by a foreign troupe (Company B Belvoir, all the way from Sydney — and it’s always interesting to compare the styles of major state theatre companies). Since the underpants in question actually belong to Louise, I still haven’t worked out why the play wasn’t called Knickers or something more feminine instead, but maybe something was lost in the translation from the United States, or the original, by Carl Sternheim. And whatever they are called, their downfall is the catalyst for a gamut of emotions from panic and paranoia to sexual longings and wild, romantic love, beating in the hearts of a wacky assortment of characters revolving around the initial vapidity of the accidental knicker-dropper, Louise. Under Neil Armfield’s direction, the first half of this production has everybody at a peak of manic hilarity which settles down, by the second act, into a formidable showcase for rewriter Steve Martin’s skills at producing rapid-fire bursts of witty dialogue. It is impossible, in fact, not to be conscious of the ghostly presence of Martin hovering in the wings, sparking speculations about which part he’ll play in the movie version. What he and Sternheim between them have done for the actors in this play is to provide each of them with their stellar moments in the radiance of the audience’s appreciative applause. John Batchelor as the blusteringly Germanic Theo comes on so strongly at the outset that it is difficult to see where he can go after that, but he skilfully winds himself back to fit into the rhythm of the remainder of the play, as the other men whose passions are aroused by the underpants beat a path to Louise’s door. Richard Sydenham has great fun with the effete and posturing poet Versati, which he offsets later with his dual role as the cooler King. And Damon Herriman is far too effective as the unctuous Cohen with a "K". In fact, the racial stereotyping is initially quite unsettling, but made tenable by the fact that it represents the feelings of the times when the play was originally written, and as seen through a Jewish writer’s eyes. It is also worth noting that by the end of the play Sternheim/Martin have moved, thankfully without preaching or sacrificing humour, beyond the stereotypes to the sorts of personal relationships that people can form with each other. And Rebecca Massey’s neighbouring busybody-with-a-heart-of-gold-and-a-body-filled-with-vicarious-lust, Gertrude, is right in there, intruding with her crazy accent and butt-to-die-for, to help Louise realise the golden opportunities that have come her way. As Louise, Lucy Taylor has — perhaps — the most difficult role, as the mousy, bespectacled housewife who suddenly becomes a sexual celebrity in everyone else’s eyes. In this role, her vapidity is perhaps a bit too effective, but she gets more into the spirit of the play as her character accelerates her switches between downtrodden and aroused, signalling her changes by the old-reliable of devices used by cinematic librarians since time immemorial: glasses in the on, or off, position. The other quiet role that gets into his spluttering stride in the second act is Kinglehoff, played by Keith Robinson. The whole play takes place in the apartment of Theo and Louise, and a nice touch in the setting is the use of a working kitchen, where things smell and burn on stovetops, and sizzle under running tap water. All in all, this production works well on all levels; and the only quibble I have is that — as part of a planned program of plays for the year — it comes perhaps a bit too swiftly on the heels of the Queensland Theatre Company’s opening and not too dissimilarly excellent comic double, The Real Inspector Hound and Black Comedy. But presumably there are issues of timing when interweaving a production from another theatre company. And if you love to laugh, you’ll be able to indulge yourself to the hilt at Underpants, with its rich fill of sight and sound gags. —
Anne Ring (Performance seen: 18 March 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Blurred Brisbane Arts Theatre “It’s about the drinking, the crowds…” “It’s about the sex.” Brisbane Arts Theatre runs through plays quicker than most and so it is no surprise that Blurred has been chosen to pack the theatre with a young audience (read school children and teachers). The decision is a good one and the theatre has illustrated that economics does not necessarily have to sacrifice quality. Blurred takes a funny poke at Schoolies Week while tackling an arsenal of bigger issues. The setting is the Gold Coast and it is a schoolies tale that incorporates all the expected characters. There are the country yobs out to get pissed, the couple testing their relationship before the big week, the "post-modern nerds" trying not to be left out of the equation and the giggling girls, you guessed it — giggling. There’s an "evil limo", lots of beer, vomit and plenty of good advice: Live life now because “after 30 there’s only wisdom and jam making”. It is a week that "promises to be exciting and unpredictable" and directors Michael Straight and Francesca Gasteen do well to compress both humour and tragedy into one short performance. Having already been performed on screen and at Festival Hall, Blurred meshes one scene into the next and the momentum of the performance carries itself into a nicely entwined story. Lighting and set designers Casey Moon-Watton and Graham McKenzie have left a lot to the imagination. The stage has few props and no backdrop apart from a lone palm tree. Against this stark background the designers use a multi-media dimension at both the play's start and finish. It is an odd decision for a plot that could have permitted alternatives, but one that seems to work nevertheless. The Gold Coast is a week where older "toolies" prey on schoolies, binge drinking is rampant, friendships are dissolved, depression and theft is evident and boys, unfortunately, need to prove they are boys. The directors fit a lot into a short play and, consequently, there is an element of unrealism and forced direction in some scenes. Luckily, a good script, organic scene changes and excellent timing by the cast make up for these faults. Blurred’s program lists characters and actors, but characters' names are not used in the play. This makes a reviewer's job hard. Suffice to say the cast as a whole do well, and William McBride, Tom Stefanovic, Genvieve Trace, Belinda Raisin, Jessica Loudon, Jillian Wood, Stephen Smith, Thomas Cooper, Josh Stamp, Sam Hussey-Smith, Elizabeth Best, Matt Hogan and Sean Dennis make a fine troupe. For a good laugh and an awkward cringe see Blurred. —
Pat Watson (Performance seen: 17 March 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Edge of Darkness Brisbane Arts Theatre From the moment the vivid red Arts Theatre curtain opens to reveal a stunning set depicting the living room of a turn-of-the-century English seaside home, one is instantly expecting a night of good theatre. And the cast and crew of this production do not disappoint. Yes, there were some small problems with occasional fluffed lines, some clumsy sound cues and a questionable hairstyle for the period, but all such minor quibbles are outshone by a cast who work their hearts out in presenting a very entertaining evening. The play, billed as a psychological thriller and written by English writer, director and producer Brian Clemens, revolves around Max and Laura Cranwell. The couple has just been reunited with their daughter Emma, who we’re told has been missing for three years. Emma has lost all memory of her past and does not recognise her parents or their country home. It is soon revealed, however, that there is much more to the story than a happy family reunion and all is certainly not as it seems. . . Suffice to say there are plenty of twists and turns to keep the audience guessing until the final climactic scene. As Max and Laura, Kurt A. Lerps and Gabrielle Traynor use their vast stage experience to present a loving couple delighted at the return of their daughter. Traynor in particular offers a captivating performance from beginning to end. She obviously has a thorough understanding of her character and moves through Laura’s emotional journey with graceful ease. As the Cranwells' daughter, Emma, Megan Hinselwood works very hard in a most challenging role. Unfortunately I felt she was a little too mature to be playing a young lady of 24 and did not quite reach the emotional depths that the character requires. As the hired help, Karen Houghton makes a fabulous Penny, offering plenty of light relief throughout, while John C. Grey does a fine job of Hardy, performing a lovely balancing act between seemingly loyal servant and conniving snoop. Completing the cast is Wayne Lyngkuist as Ivan. While only on stage for a short stint in Act 2, Lyngkuist commands attention as soon as he enters and is extremely watchable. There is much to like about this production and director Dale Murison should be congratulated for what she has achieved, particularly given the fact that, according to the program notes, this is only her second stint in the director’s chair. Thrillers are always hard to pull off well and period thrillers even more so. I hope to see more of Ms Murison’s directorial work in the future. —
Andrea Carne (Performance seen: 12 March 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Medea Nash Theatre (Front Row Theatre, Hamilton) This adaptation of Euripides' classic by the reinvented Nash Theatre at the old Hamilton town hall is directed by Malcolm Steele. Though no credit is given in the program, Steele’s notes suggest he was also the author of the adaptation. In its modern dress the dialogue flows well and is well orchestrated. For those unfamiliar with the original, Medea, a foreigner to Corinth, has defied her father and arranged a murder for Jason’s sake, married him and had two sons. To further his political ambitions, Jason forsakes her to marry Glauce, daughter of Creon the ruler Corinth. Creon plans to banish Medea to prevent her jealousy causing her to revenge herself on Jason by injuring their children. She begs Creon for one day’s grace, which he grants and in which she kills Glauce with a poisoned gown and crown and coincidentally Creon, who embraces his dying daughter. Convinced her children will now be killed in revenge for her deeds, she kills them herself before fleeing to Athens and the promised protection of its ruler, Ageus. Euripides explores the darkest reaches of the female psyche . Medea is more than a woman scorned, she is betrayed at her centre, as a woman, wife, lover and mother. Steele explains the absence in the adaptation of Euripides’ major male character, Jason, in these terms: “I wanted to explore the issue of women in the production. This is why the role of Jason has been transformed into that of the other woman, Glauce.” It might have been a legitimate endeavour in terms of feminism, but it fails as drama. The original’s confrontational scene between Jason and Medea is critical to her decisions and their tragic consequences. The transformed scene between Medea (Davina Fowlie) and Glauce (Anke Willems) is betrayal second-hand and lacks the power to drive Medea to the depths she reaches. As honest in its endeavours as the production is, it fails to realise its potential in key areas. Dressed up-market modern chic, the production’s advertised promises of a blend of realism, stylised performance and traditional Greek Theatre are impossible to deliver in the restrictions imposed by the shallow set, its oversized table, a narrow proscenium and a space with hollow acoustics accentuated by an impossible selection of footwear (which also impacts on some actors’ movement). The overstated rear wall with its montage of initials and unsympathetic rendering of Jason & Sons denies access to the advantage of depth the stage has. Confronted with these difficulties, and aggravated by said footwear, the choreography, apart from isolated sequences, becomes stilted and repetitive and the promised styles head-butted rather than blending. Of the actors only Andrew McLean (Creon, Ageus and a brief opening appearance as Jason) overcomes the hurdles and realised the promises. He is flexible, fluid and believable in all characters. Ms Fowlie is striking , but despite the obvious sincerity of the attempt, lacks the vocal and physical fluidity and range necessary to explore fully the rises and falls of Medea’s torments. The same might be said of Ms Willems, but as both tormentor and source of torment her task is made more difficult. Limited space and vocal skills restrict Jess Hurley and Hanna Houben as the Women of Corinth. Of the two, Ms Hurley proved more effective as a Chorus commentator. Despite these observations, Nash is to be commended for its willingness to experiment. —
Ron Finney (Performance seen: 13 March 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Boogie Fever Phoenix Ensemble (Pavilion Theatre, Beenleigh) When one thinks of the 1970s, one can often get dragged down into the "heavy stuff" — Watergate, Margaret Thatcher, Pinochet, the Khmer Rouge, the founding of Microsoft, high inflation, high unemployment, the Iranian hostage crisis, the end of the Vietnam conflict, and the threat of nuclear war. But then, it’s always a good idea to keep in mind the fun (if not tasteful) stuff: sequinned stretch-polyester, flares, disco dancing, pet rocks, mood rings, the Bee Gees, Barry Manilow and Donna Summer. And this is the stuff that Phoenix Ensemble’s Boogie Fever is all about. With not much attention paid to historical accuracy, or indeed anything much deep at all, Phoenix Ensemble have donned their silver platform boots for a night of fun and silliness. Most of the cast never saw the '70s first time around, but they’re definitely enjoying them now. In two-and-a-half hours, they bop their way through 20 or so hits ranging from “Living in the 70s” to “Father and Son” to “Lady Marmalade”. Some of the songs are spoofs, some are sung straight. The pace is as uneven as the amplification and some numbers (particularly in the under-rehearsed second act) shouldn’t really have seen the light of day, but mostly we don’t care. We’re too busy singing along, because these are songs we all know and the band is cranking them out like nobody’s business. The music is top-notch, and it’s the only thing that saves some of the numbers from crashing head-first into the realm of pub karaoke. The Tornados are definitely the funkiest, hippest, happeningest band never to have played 30 years ago. Musical director Alan Davidson is a pianistic force to be reckoned with, and the band’s solo foray into Peter Allen territory is a major highlight of the evening. There are several other high spots. One is pint-sized Taylor Davidson performing her heart out in a very white Jackson 5, wearing a wig almost larger than herself. Then the ABBA boys (Luke Nutley and Brett Coates) go ahead and steal their medley from the girls, to great effect. This isn’t to say that the ladies don’t mostly do a good job: Karenina Gilliland’s strong "belt" voice is “Hot Stuff”, and Heather Scott manages to juggle choreography and a starring role quite effectively. Joe Mikkelsen’s Billy Joel medley could be transplanted in entirety into Good Morning, Australia without a blink, and he also has a good stab at the fiendishly difficult "Bohemian Rhapsody" at the end. We also look forward to seeing more of the mysteriously-monikered Rebecca of “I Will Survive” fame. The MC (Frog Johnson) periodically harasses audience members into having a good time, a tactic which borders on irritating at some points but is welcome relief at others. An important word to the potential audience: if you are at all shy, do not leave during the show to visit the facilities, do not leave your mobile phone on, do not make any sudden movements, and do not ever, ever make eye-contact with the MC. This show is big on audience participation. You have been warned! In all, Boogie Fever is a fun night out. It’s not Important Theatre, or even consistent theatre, but the infectious enthusiasm of the cast will have you warbling, almost despite yourself. The big chorus numbers are definitely tailfeather-shakeworthy, and there are one or two songs which might even make you want to surreptitiously get out the old LPs and groove around the living room when you get home. —
Ruth Bridgstock (Performance seen: 6 March 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Zigzag Street La Boite Theatre For its over-the-hill move from Lang Park to Kelvin Grove, La Boite Theatre could not have chosen a more regionally-relevant first play than the Philip Dean dramatisation of the Nick Earls nifty novel Zigzag Street. Trashed by his partner Anna, Richard (“Miniature”) Derrington fluctuates from self-pity to neighbourly (for old codger Kevin) and Galahadish (for shoe-struck Rachel) generosity, with a welter of advice from friends Jeff and Sally and a theatre-in-the round of co-workers and pals, even the lady reporter and prying medico. In tune with its name, the novel zigzags from cartoon comedy to heartburn. The dramatisation preserves this variety. Not easy to move from the dabble-diary format into stageshow style, but this script, directed with a tough sensitivity by Jean-Marc Russ and played by a highly-strung quintet, succeeds in both tickling the ribs and touching the heart. In the epicentre is Mark Conaghan who, as the self-flagellating Richard, believably evokes every mood from sexual starvation to nostalgic devotion to his dead grandparents. Caroline Dunphy, Cara McIlveen and Yalin Ozucelik are brilliantly busy as they interlock with Richard as he belatedly comes to terms with himself. Then in Act 2 Melissa McMahon as the smitten (literally) Rachel tugs at his heart strings — and ours too. I wondered how any designer could cope with the range of locale, from airport to coffee shop, from office to flat (without blackouts). But Bill Haycock’s beehive of brightness, with ramp and furniture and billions of boxes, works multiplace miracles. Greg, the ginger-haired medic, (not to be confused with Greg the cat) needs only a tray to establish his surgery. David Walters and Owen Jolley complement the movement skills of the cast (flawlessly stage managed by Danielle Kellie and Anika Vilée) with the interplay of light and sound that enables even the “full frontal” (except for fig-leafy Tim Tams) to seem subtle. Indeed, the stage version makes the post-midnight office frolic more believable by Richard’s spilling liquid on his shirt, so he has a strong motive for starting his Monty. A slow motion treatment helps the crucial (but tall-storyish) plot turning point of the contact between Hillary’s Richard-held shoe and the downwards-escalating Rachel in Brisbane’s Broadway. Compressing the novel’s footy field of players to the capacities of an acting quintet means that several characters have to be shown the exit door but playwright Dean has managed to evoke the country music codger Kevin in an audio tape, while even the ginger cat Greg (named after the freakish doctor of Yalin Ozucelik) seems to be there, emitting fleas that itch the barn-dancy legs of suburban journalist Renee (Cara McIlveen). As Hillary (who is a bit more than Richard’s boss, under the offstage chocolate-coffee-bean-chewing Barry) Caroline Dunphy combines with Mark Conaghan in a double-bed scene that transcends bedroom farce. The play and its source novel find the pulse of youth and young adulthood, ranging from business bullshit to bean-induced farting. Yet poignant moments such as Richard’s reading (later echoed in Rachel’s) of grandfather’s letter, which evokes the Somme battlefield, embrace the elderly too. Larger than life is Zigzag yet even when it lurches into the surreal it retains the aroma of its Brizzy backstreet base, like grandmother’s old toaster with its mouldy mouse leg. The successful launching of a brand new theatre is a triumph for La Boite’s whole team led by artistic director Sean Mee, general manager Craig Whitehead, public relations head Rosemary Herbert and production manager Mark Lloyd Hunt. And former artistic director Sue Rider must get a guernsey for initially suggesting this adaptation to Philip Dean. —
Paul Sherman (Performance seen: 21 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Crucible Harvest Rain Theatre For many, their last experience of The Crucible was a rather tepid film adaptation starring Daniel Day Lewis as John Proctor and a wide-eyed Winona Ryder as Abigail Williams, the two central and most complex characters in this dramatisation of the Salem witch trials of 1692. It is good to see Harvest Rain bringing the Arthur Miller masterpiece back to the stage in their first production of 2004. Not long in his new parish, the Reverend Paris (Brendan Glanville) is bitter that his Harvard education is being wasted on a distrustful and gossiping flock. Recently catching his niece Abigail Williams (Jane Barry) and daughter Betty (Elizabeth Gibney) dancing in the forest in what appears to be a pagan ceremony, Paris is desperate to contain the situation, finding a scapegoat in his servant Tituba (Pauline Campton). Thomas Putnam (Tony Pitman) and his wife Ann (Angel McIntosh) are desperate for answers, their only living daughter bed-ridden and insensible after the incident in the forest. Local farmers John Proctor (Neil Davenport) and Giles Corey (Hugh Taylor) and the elderly Rebecca Nurse (Helen Royle) arrive to find Betty writhing as if possessed. Servant girls for the Putnams and the Proctors, Mercy Lewis and Mary Warren (Kaela Gray and Joanna Butler) are quickly implicated in the "conjuring of spirits" as the town becomes convinced the devil walks among them. Paris sends for colleague Reverend Hale (Nick Backstrom) to make ryhme or reason of the madness as the tinderbox of Puritan suspicion and paranoia combusts. The group of girls, led by the intense, duplicituous Abagail, tear apart their small community, wantonly implicating the innocent — John Proctor and wife Elizabeth (Kerith Atkinson) among them — in their dances with the devil. Deputy Governor Danforth (Leigh Walker) and Judge Hathorne (Paul Newman) arrive in town to play Pontius Pilate, responsible for putting the convicted witches and wizards to their deaths. In the central roles of John Proctor and Abigail Williams, Davenport and Barry are superbly cast. Barry carries the manipulative Abigail with ease, allowing us to see the tragic consequences of deceit and malice, while Davenport as an innocent yet condemned man gives a gritty and committed performance. Atkinson is fine in her supporting role, her Elizabeth Proctor brimming with strength, compassion and hope. Backstrom makes a watchable Reverend Hale: the development of his character as the lies and injustice unfold is pleasing. Glanville as Paris starts with promise, but his character could be more fully developed, somewhat lacking the authority and presence required by the role. Campton impresses with her accent and character work as Tituba, while Butler is pitiable as the meek Mary Warren, whose decision to tell the truth comes too late. Taylor has the lion's share of the (intended) laughs as the fiesty Giles Corey; Royle and McIntosh present achingly real characters. Lighting by Noel Payne is atmospheric, particularly in the courtroom scenes: the use of candlelight throughout makes a simple yet striking effect. Some of David Parkin's minimalist sets are effective, but far too often they seem to engulf the ensemble. Better use of the stage and more appropriate blocking would correct this problem. The time needed to strike the sets is too lengthy, and while the use of a singer to distract the audience from the process is a good idea, it becomes tiresome by the third and fourth scenes. Period costumes by Scott Beavan and Lynne Winter play a large part in creating Salem on the Harvest Rain stage; these two deserve credit for the effort required to dress this large cast. For a modern audience, most of The Crucible runs a fine line between gripping theatre and laughable farce, depending on its delivery. When Mary Warren decides to tell the truth, and the girls "see" her compacting with the devil in the courtroom, the scene requires precise direction to ensure mockery isn't made of the intensity and horror Miller intends. Director Nerida Jaaniste succeeds in capturing the hysteria without making a spectacle of it, but only just: there are moments when melodrama is allowed to encroach on the otherwise sensible directing. Harvest Rain have tackled the ambitious task of staging The Crucible with enthusiasm, and buoyed by a strong ensemble centred by exceptional lead performances they do succeed, but not entirely. Closer attention to detail in the development of some characters and a more purposeful use of stage space and sets would better conjure the atmosphere Miller intended. The bottom line: Harvest Rain’s The Crucible takes a good stab at the Miller classic without being the bewitching piece of theatre it could be. —
Cameron Pegg (Performance seen: 20 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine I Love You You're Perfect Now Change Spotlight Theatre (Benowa) Laurie Dyer, director of Spotlight Theatre's I Love You You're Perfect Now Change, guarantees that somewhere in the show you will see yourself, your partner, your children or your parents. Perhaps this is part of the reason this Off-Broadway show has been so successful, notching up nine years and more than 3,000 performances in New York, and now extending hilarity all over the world. The show is about relationships. It's about everything from first date to first baby, family road-trips, divorce, watching the footy, and still loving your partner of 30 years. And it translates exceptionally well to Australia in this Queensland premiere, particularly with a teensy bit of judicious localising. This is a marvellous "first date" show. There's no plot line per se — the musical comprises 18 songs with amusing sketches in-between. Heavyweight this show is not; it relies on (sometimes arch) humour in the first act to suck the audience in and then gently comes to its point in the final two delicious sketches: it's our quirks and foibles that make love such a wonderful ride. Originally this show was cast with four actors playing more than 40 characters; Spotlight decided to split the roles among eight performers for this season, a choice which initially had me wondering about how consistently the show would hang together, and whether the cast were "up to it" vocally and dramatically. I shouldn't have worried. The show barrels along beautifully, with regular shouts of laughter from the audience. By and large the cast are evenly matched, with nearly all the performers showing considerable vocal talent as well as solid comedic acting skills. There are some stand-out performances. Dale Henderson's "Shouldn't I Be Less In Love With You" brings us up short in the second act, and poignantly reminds us that there is a serious side to love. His wonderful funeral sketch with a blue-haired Lynn Hudman is the best of the night — but not by far, with James ("I'm not the boss") Hutchinson showing us what a nightmare family outings can be, and Robyn Pihlamae brilliantly bemoaning life as a perpetual bridesmaid in the worst dress I have seen for a quite a while. Gillian Denny also deserves a big nod for her "divorcee dating tape" monologue. I could keep going about the cast, but the production team also deserves much recognition, beginning with polished performances by musical director Wendy Berkelaar and her violinists, who keep the catchy melodies coming throughout. There were some minor issues with uneven amplification of the singers, but I'm certain these will be ironed out by the second performance. Choreographer Iain Hogg has devised some sharp and sassy moves (the "wake soft-shoe" is perfect: we don't know whether to laugh or cry), and he doesn't overdo it. Similarly, the sets are necessarily minimal but effective, supporting the cast's shenanigans rather than upstaging them. This musical will have Queensland audiences returning to the theatre. Brisbaneites should make the effort to visit Spotlight and see what musical theatre is really like; Gold Coastians who already know what an asset this team is to the theatre world should guard them jealously. —
Ruth Bridgstock (Performance seen: 20 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Real Inspector Hound / Black Comedy Queensland Theatre Company (Cremorne Theatre) The good news is that you have 22 days left in which to go and laugh yourself silly at one of the funniest and best done couple of plays that I’ve ever had the pleasure of enjoying. And, happily, there is no bad news about these plays. To give you just some idea of what to expect, this is what — according to playwright Peter Shaffer — happened during the first night of the one that he wrote, Black Comedy: "A stern-looking middle-aged man sitting directly in front of me suddenly fell out of his seat into the aisle during this section of the play and began calling out to the actors in a voice weak from laughing, “Oh stop it! Please stop it!!” I cannot remember a more pleasing thing ever happening to me inside a theatre." And, in both The Real Inspector Hound and Black Comedy, the accent has been put on the comedy part of the phrase “black comedy”, while playwrights Tom Stoppard and Shaffer each give their own original twists to ways of blackening their contribution to this double bill. Please note, first of all, that that reads as original in 2004 terms, which is pretty remarkable since both these plays were written in the 1960s. And secondly, that if you want to enjoy the surprises that underpin each of them, the one thing that you must not do is to read anything that tells you what to expect in terms of the plot developments. So, while (due to great restraint) it is safe to read on here, do not — I repeat do not — read the program notes when you go in, and do be very wary of any other reviews before you go. Put them all aside until afterwards, when reading about both these plays is one way of prolonging the enjoyment of the evening. It is not, however, giving too much away to say that The Real Inspector Hound involves two critics focusing on their own obsessions at a performance of a traditional English-thriller-set-in-an-isolated-country-manor that has the mickey taken out of it with surgical skill. While Black Comedy twists the conventional situation of nervous-engaged-couple-waiting-for-stern-but-doting-dad-of-daughter upside down and over its head. And that a particular delight of having two such different plots is that each member of the cast gets to display their versatility in two absolutely different roles. And one of the reasons for actually going to see these plays on stage, rather than waiting for the movie, is that — unlike many plays — the stage is where these two work best, because they draw out of their situations and everyone involved in creating them all that is best in theatrical craft. At least, when it is in good hands. As it most certainly is, both in front of and behind the scenes, under the direction of Michael Gow. Daniel Murphy swings from the philandering husband and critic Birdboot to the gaily aesthetic Harrold-with-a-double-r Gorringe so convincingly that I didn’t realise that they were played by the same actor. And Hayden Spencer offsets the embittered monologues of the lugubrious stand-in critic Moon with the fabulous physicality required by the amorous Brindsley as he tries to salvage an increasingly impossible situation. The only quibble I have, in fact, is that as Brindsley the tone he adopts doesn’t always match either the level of comic exaggeration favoured by the rest of the cast, or his consummate skill in every other part of this role. As part of which, his brilliance at the centre of the scene that had Shaffer’s first nighter falling out of his seat is a hysterically funny highlight of the evening, as well as being a miracle of timing, balance and co-ordination by everyone on stage at the time. As well, however, as this scene also shows to maximum effect, what makes both of these plays ensemble works in the fullest sense of the phrase are the highly active (rather than typically supportive) roles that are played on stage by the settings, sound, lighting and special effects. And the production skills of Alison Ross, Pete Goodwin, Matt Scott and Allana Sheard, respectively, deserve a special bow. It is a pleasure, also, to see QTC perennials Carol Burns and David Clendinning working their magic. Burns’ Mrs Drudge is a perfectly hammy Greek chorus for the country manor goings-on, and then a delightful contrast as the slowly unravelling Miss Furnival in the dark…..Well, you’ll see for yourselves. Clendinning is not in the least confined by the fact that most of his action takes place in a seated position, first as the lecherous, wheel-chair bound Magnus, and then as the progressively reseated and unseated military dad. As the two female romantic leads, both Rebecca Murphy and Melinda Butel are competently humorous as country manor stereotypes, and gloriously over the top as Brindsley’s public and private love interests. Lucas Stibbard’s shining moment is as the louche, Tom Courtney-like Simon, but he has little to do as Bamberger, while Joss McWilliam’s blustering Inspector Hound takes second place to the way he lobs a series of spanners into the works as Schuppanzigh. And last but not least is Geoff Mullins (the Geoff Mullins?) whose voice has a cameo role as the portentous Radio Announcer activated at crucial moments by Mrs Drudge. All in all, this polished combination of wit and slapstick is such a delight that I’m going to put my money where my mouth is, and do something that I’ve never done before. By the time I’d finished telling my partner (at some length) what he’d missed by being inconveniently in Perth, he’d decided to see it, and I’ve decided to go with him and enjoy it all over again. And for me to see something twice in one season says it all. —
Anne Ring (Performance seen: 17 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine A Demon in my View Brisbane Arts Theatre In a perfect world, amateur theatre companies could present whatever plays they liked. Unfortunately, too many groups succumb to the lure of the almighty dollar, with well-worn comedies and overdone farces that provide “bums on seats” taking priority over more challenging theatre. It is refreshing then to see the Brisbane Arts Theatre continuing to use its Early Week theatre program to provide a range of plays which might not draw the general theatre-going public but which provide diversity and challenge for actors and audiences alike. So it is with A Demon in My View, a trilogy of short gothic tales adapted for the stage by well-known local theatre identity Ron Kelly, based on the work of 19th Century literary figure Edgar Allan Poe. As the word “gothic” implies, these are indeed dark little plays. Any happiness the characters may feel is short-lived, and death and its aftermath is a common theme throughout. The Oval Portrait tells of an old man’s misery and guilt over the death of his new wife many years earlier; The Tell-Tale Heart depicts a young murderer facing his internal demons; while Ligeia portrays a man’s sad descent into madness as his dead wife’s ghost continues to haunt his existence. Suffice to say, if comedies are your thing, these plays are not for you. Director Sandra Harman does well to guide her cast of eight through the trio of plays on a simple yet striking set. The lighting effects are excellent and add immeasurably to the creation of mood on stage. Sound effects are also largely successful although I personally find it grating to hear the “clunk” of a tape being stopped abruptly on more than one occasion. Costuming is also very effective but, to be extra-picky, I would like to see more authentic footwear and hairstyles for the ladies in the final play and some mud and grime on the uniform of the young soldier in the first offering. As with much gothic drama, it is the males who have the pick of the “meaty” roles and the actors in this production do well in presenting an array of 19th Century gentlemen. The standout is Timothy Wotherspoon who as the young painter in The Oval Portrait and as Jonathon in The Tell-Tale Heart not only looks the part(s), but also displays a naturalness in movement and characterisation that demand attention whenever he is on stage. Rob Beckwith, who appears in all three plays, does quite well playing the older male parts and Gregory Rowbotham, as Joseph in Ligeia, has a shaky start but makes a fine attempt at a very difficult role. The few female roles on offer are less successful, mainly due to problems with vocal projection and diction. This was also a problem with some of the male actors and needs to be looked at, particularly when dealing with 19th Century language. Overall, I felt the first two plays worked very well but if there was anything lacking, it was pace. Creating dramatic tension through sustained pauses can only be taken so far before it becomes laborious for the audience. There were times when it almost seemed the actors could not remember the next line as the pregnant pauses became excruciatingly long. The final play, Ligeia, is the least successful of the three and perhaps because it is the most difficult to pull off. The ghostly appearance of the dead wife does not work as well as it could and perhaps would be better served through the use of lighting effects, so that her appearance scares the pants off the audience as well as the poor husband on stage. These are minor quibbles however for what is largely a very entertaining night of theatre. The Arts Theatre should be applauded for presenting this type of production for those of us who enjoy something different, something more challenging. Bravo! —
Andrea Carne (Performance seen: 15 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine In No Particular Order Borderline Defamation Productions (Cement Box Theatre) "It’s a bit chilly on the willy," as one character put it, is an apt description of In No Particular Order — or so was my impresson of writer Paul Osuch's creation after the first few minutes. Two mates, Jeremy (Lee Murphy) and Stephen (Ray Tiernan) are groom and best man discussing the merit of the forthcoming wedding. Jeremy is excited (or at least he thinks he is) at the prospect of a lifelong commitment to his bride to be, Kelly (Jodie Sparrow). Stephen is less than thrilled — an attitude that makes a lot of sense once his love for Kelly is revealed. In No Particular Order seemed to be running along smoothly. Pretty basic premise, passible character interaction and fair use of a modest set. Perhaps it was the heat however, but my attention began to waver. The scene seemed to lag, and while the actors did exhibit some promising nuances, as a whole the characterisations seemed mediocre and as was later put "lacked depth". Then, a technical hitch… At this point, such performances can be taken one of two ways. Either director Melissa Maclean unintentionally left the performers grasping, as I initially feared, or the dramatic energy on stage was in fact a bright stroke of directing precision. A dry theatrical tundra, designed to juxtapose the remainder of the play. I’d like to think the latter was the case. Central to the play's premise is the idea of life being a spontaneous succession of action and reaction. After "technical" hiccups are resolved, writer Paul Osuch welcomes us into the realms of absurdity with seemingly unconnected acts that toy with dramatic structure and theatrical etiquette. The script begins to gain momentum, wooing the audiences with colourful characters and engaging scenarios. Gareth Lewis and Natasha Yantsch steal the limelight with well-timed comical performances and are facilitated by good support from Louise Brehmer, Cindy Nelson, Nigel Poulton and Christian Willmer. For the most part these scenes are well-written and well-received. But once again things began to dawdle. Osuch could have achieved better effect by economising on the script, and while the ideas are inquisitive, they are not that original. This play's achievement lies in its execution and jocular performances. In No particular Order is a somewhat hit-and-miss affair, but serves as a reminder of what theatre can be if orthodoxy is optional. —
Damian Sommerlad (Performance seen: 12 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The First Sunday in December StageDoor Dinner Theatre Is this the first play to have changed its title during its run? In fact, it hasn't, despite being rebadged "The Great Aussie Backyard BBQ Goes Up in Flames" in the Courier-Mail's daily entertainment listings (a result of their misreading some publicity material). Playwright Eric Scott's actual title better fits the theme of the play — the annual early summer Christmas party/birthday party/barbecue hosted by boss TC for his hapless employees. Scott's script is full of comic situations and laughs, with original spins on some of the perennial comedy themes of male rivalries, generational rivalries, female rivalries, male misbehaviour, female misbehaviour, and so on ... The play is well cast, with each of the performers doing well. As TC, Trevor Jones blusters his way through the show, presenting a vain and aging bovver boy with little loyalty to family, friends or workers. One quibble: his accent perhaps needs explanation in the script. Trish Kelleher and Andrea Carne are wonderful as the long-suffering older wives who seem an oasis of calm in the midst of the histrionics of the younger women and the puerile gropings of the men of all ages. Gourie Blackley presents well as the confused and shy newly-pregnant wife of ambitious young executive Terry. As Terry, Blake Young makes a shaky start but warms to the role, doing well in representing his descent into drunkenness and bravado. As the voluptuous Vanessa, Melinda Buttle pouts and titillates well. Author Scott could I thought have sketched her character a little more deeply in representing her motivations. (For the other characters he has done this well.) Caroline Frewin is a top-class Gail, effectively depicting her hurt and bewilderment at her abandonment by her husband, while that ex-husband, Mark, is played superbly by Scott Hossack. He really captures this familiar Aussie character who is in turns bully, clown and insecure worrier: his belated realisation of his folly is very well represented. The technical aspects of the production work well, including a good set depicting a typical Australian patio. Damien Lee has done a good job as director, successfully deploying his cast of eight on the tiny stage. The theatrical presentation is complemented by an efficiently served and excellent three-course dinner together with reasonable and reasonably priced house wines, which make it a great night out for a group. I'm sure groups of workmates would especially enjoy this show, particularly if they take their boss along. —
John Henningham (Performance seen: 7 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Mixed Emotions Front Row Theatre, Hamilton The gist of Richard Baer's Mixed Emotions contains more than a passing resemblance to Innocence, the 1999 Australian feature film starring Bud Tingwell and Julia Blake. In the movie, two 60-somethings discover a late-in-life match that defies not only society's but their own preconceptions of love and lust. In this play, like the film, two people are given the unexpected chance to reconsider and resize their lives. Mixed Emotions opens on Ralph and Chuck (David Coleman and Chris Carroll), removalists hired to dismantle the house Christine Millman (Dianne Adams) and her late husband made a family home for three decades. It has been one year and a day since Christine's husband died and his best mate Herman (Ray Turner) has appeared at the tail end of the removals to pay his respects, only to learn he has missed the anniversary. From this early point we observe the differences in Christine and Herman. He's forgetful, she's fastidious, he's forthright, she's reserved. Just as importantly, we find similiarities in the two. Both have lost their spouses recently and have been living alone, an adjustment we learn neither has made smoothly or happily. Hence, Melburnian Christine has decided on a sea change, to move to the Gold Coast and make a new start. What begins as a friendly goodbye unpredictably intensifies, and both are confronted with their past, and future happiness. Christine isn't the contented and confident woman she appeared at first. Her facade — bit by bit — crumbles before the audience as the family photos, ornaments and furniture disappear through the doorway. Herman is desperate to stall Christine's departure and show his true feelings for her. The impulsive, cavalier Herman seems to have no complement in the unaffected, business-as-usual bussle of Christine, but inextricably, a chemistry builds. As the first act closes, Christine and Herman realise they may not be so different in their fears and dreams after all. Director Sandra Harle has steered a cast through this play previously and I suspect the earlier production, like this one, was superb. Harle achieves a tricky balance of sensitivity and straightforwardness in this ironically provocative piece of theatre: sex and the city for the elderly couldn't be more deftly and heartwarmingly handled. With only two leads and not much else to work with, the success of this play very much relies on a thorough reading and intelligent, thoughtful delivery, which is precisely what Front Row Theatre offers. If it wasn't for too many stammered lines in the second act, an overzealous prompter early on, or encroaching traffic noise, the delivery of what is essentially a two-hour dialogue would have been flawless, or close enough to it. Adams relays both warmth and apprehension as a woman on the brink of living her life all over again, delivering an effortless, sincere and supremely convincing performance. Turner comfortably becomes the irrepressible Herman, managing to be frustrating and endearing at the same time; a scatterbrain with his heart in the right place. At times he's almost suave. Both leads so accurately and achingly convey the confusion and warmth at the heart of this brilliant script that it's hard to find much, if anything at all lacking in their performances. At first, Coleman and Carroll are merely distractions to the increasingly complicated dynamic between Christine and Herman, but we quickly value their fly-on-the-wall perspective. Both men fill their roles simply and strongly, and it is because of this we can share their incredulity and surprise at the relationship that unfolds. While it certainly is a struggle throughout Mixed Emotions for Christine and Herman to work out where they stand, to reconcile with the loss of their partners and best friends, and to weigh their chance at happiness against societal expectations, it couldn't be easier for me to commend Front Row Theatre's current production as a splendid achievement. With premier performances, thoroughly capable directing and the assistance of a dreamy soundtrack, the innocence and beauty of an elderly couple's journey in life and love makes a very special piece of theatre indeed. —
Cameron Pegg (Performance seen: 6 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Happy Birthday Wanda June Stagewise Productions (Centenary Theatre) Apparently, the original title that Kurt Vonnegut Jr was going to give to his reworking of Homer’s Odyssey was "Penelope", in recognition of the source of its plot. The total absurdity of the title he finally chose is, however, a far more accurate reflection of the loopy humour that characterises both the play and Wanda June’s very tenuous toehold in it. Stagewise’s revival of Happy Birthday Wanda June gives theatregoers an opportunity to revisit this play from the '70s and compare the issues of that time with what we’re on about 30 years on. Then, it was battles on every front, from Vietnam to the sexes, and — of course — the big debate on whether we should be making love or war. Now . . . well some of the words may have changed, but the tunes are still sounding familiar enough for Vonnegut’s satirical treatment of them to find their mark on contemporary funny bones while making some painfully sharp points. And, under Len Granato’s direction, the players go at it with great gusto, especially in the accelerated momentum of the second act. While this is an ensemble work, with everyone having their moment in the sun, the highlights for me were the fireworks between the chauvinistic Harold Ryan and his freshly educated wife Penelope, after those long years of separation. Peter Moore’s Harold is a flamboyant mix of Ernest Hemingway and Burt Lancaster while Terese Suvorovs has her Penelope ricocheting between confusion and capitulation on the one hand, and dignity and self-possession on the other. As the suitors who are complicating her life at this time, Paul Careless is very suitably nerdy as the peace-loving Dr Norbet Woodly, while Jason Lawson manages to make the brash vacuum cleaner salesman, Herb Shuttle, a surprisingly touching looser in search of “confidence”. As the play is set in New York, inevitably from an Australian cast there is a smorgasbord of accents, but overall they work reasonably well together. However, while the wild-eyed and mumbling Looseleaf Harper is clearly an individual who is a couple of slices short of a loaf, the way in which actor Janus swallows portions of his dialogue means that some of the impact of his character is lost in sotto voce audience whispers of "waddidhesay?". And while having Amy Coutts play the part of Paul Ryan is a nicely reverse Shakespearean touch, there are some who might argue that there is more to the male persona than a Neanderthal slouch and a simian swinging of the arms. The other-worldly appearances by the prancing Alice Nixon, the cynically Germanic Chris Guyler and the jaded Julie Leaver add not only to the humour, but also to the underlying philosophical questions that Vonnegut poses about life, happiness, and the point of it all, whatever that might be. Sound Operator Casey Moon-Watton should take a bow for the fabulously appalling animal doorbell rings, and for the various sound bites that effectively highlight elements of the play. There are, however, a couple of critical points where the volume could be reduced without an appreciable loss of impact, such as the thunderous flushing of the toilet in a crucial scene, and the volume of the merry-go-round music that drowns out the second half of Alice Nixon’s monologue. Susanna Jowett’s design of the Ryans’ apartment is very crisp and in-your-face Hemingway-in-hunter-mode, and it is only when the front door comes into play — as it does extremely often — that the position of the dining table and chairs hard up against it becomes a mildly distracting problem. Essentially, they act as an obstacle course that the actors have to squeeze by each time they go in and out; and — the constraints of a small stage notwithstanding — something could be done about that. Whether or not you’ve seen Wanda June before, you might well find, as I did, that this revival by Stagewise provides a salutary reminder of the sad fact that — so far — the more things change the more they are staying the same. And while Vonnegut sees a lot of those things as being pretty undesirable, his message — ably communicated in this production — is that you might as well laugh as well as cry about that. —
Anne Ring (Performance seen: 6 February 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine What the Butler Saw Brisbane Arts Theatre Brisbane Arts Theatre's latest offering has a misleading title. Would-be theatre-goers shouldn’t expect a standard cluedo caper — rather, a frolic in the murky (and in this case, comic) depths of psychoanalysis. Instead of a phial of poison in the library or a revolver drawn in the kitchen, it's Freud and high camp for this comedy from British playwright Joe Orton. The audience is introduced to psychoanalyst Dr Prentice (Nigel Bell) who is interviewing a young secretarial applicant in a Miss Geraldine Barclay (Jen Culter). A serial adulterer, Dr Prentice can’t keep his hands to himself and comes within a whisker of being caught in a compromising position by his wife (Selina Kadell), who's fresh from a stay in an infamous local hotel. To keep his partner unawares about his latest turn at infidelity, the not-so-kind doctor bundles Miss Barclay behind a curtain before Mrs Prentice tells of her sordid night before at the hands of hotel worker Nicholas Beckett (Adam Massey). Enter the the young concierge in question, who — with compromising pictures of Mrs Prentice in hand — has blackmail on his mind. Hoping to put the pieces together is the maniacal Doctor Rance (John Stibbard), a self-styled Freudian fanatic who enters in a flurry of finger pointing. Mr Beckett wants his money, Miss Barclay stays bundled up in the examination room, Mrs Prentice wants a straight answer from her husband as to the whereabouts of his new secretary and the furtive Dr Vance is suspicious as to the sanity of allcomers. It is safe to say that Orton was a fan of farce of the most unpredictable and technicolour order. By the time Dr Rance has his colleague fashioned as a "fetishist, tranvestite, bisexual murderer" midway through the second act, the diagnosis doesn’t raise an eyelid. Even Sergeant Match (Peter Dakin), the local bobby called in to quell the disorder, finds himself semi-naked on Dr Prentice's examination table by the show's end. What the Butler Saw is pleasingly performed by Arts Theatre without being splendid. Director Graham McKenzie presents an entertaining and polished show (notwithstanding a few mumbled lines) that works well on a script that relies too often on sporadic laughs. Culter is convincing as the wide-eyed would-be secretary whose plight the audience in turns laughs at and sympathises with. Nigel Bell is comfortable as the flustered, lily-livered and misunderstood Dr Prentice, while Kadell sizzles with sexual assertiveness, allowing the sparks to fly nicely between the couple. Massey and Dakin are capable actors, but both rely too heavily on the inherent humour of their lines in their delivery. The antithesis is Stibbard who (for the most part) acts the rest of the cast off the stage. At times he appears to be trying too hard, but the energy required to buoy Dr Vance at the dizzying, frenetic level to which Stibbard takes him is both commendable and enjoyable. There didn’t seem to be any children viewers in the audience on opening night and this was certainly reassuring. While much of humour could and does exist entirely at a physical, madcap level it must be said that What the Butler Saw is not at all fit for younger viewers. The humour often crosses from benign innuendo into crass, sexually charged comedy. The script is beyond provocative, even when considering its psychadelic '60s vintage. Orton has Mrs Prentice's alleged rape/seduction by Beckett repeatedly (and gratutiously) tossed around for shock value and for some audience members, including my viewing partner and myself, the pancake-flat delivery of some of Orton’s more blunt humour bordered on poor taste. Most of the fixed set is used throughout to amusing effect, while effective and clever blocking keep a rattling pace for the show. The constant entries and exits called on by the script are handled well, avoiding any static stage time. It's a play that's hard to make head or tail of at times, but this is certainly part of its appeal as a fast-paced, topsy-turvy piece of theatre. Perhaps it’s not so ironic that in this comedy of mistaken identity and questionable sanity, it’s only after the straitjackets come out that all is revealed in a thoroughly zany and unpredictable, yet satisfying ending. —
Cameron Pegg (Performance seen: 31 January 2004) Back to Top www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Come Blow Your Horn Brisbane Arts Theatre January is Brisbane professional theatre's month of shame. Taxpayer-built theatres sit empty while potential theatre-goers spend their evenings in cinemas or in cafes, where they gloomily sip coffees served to them by unemployed actors. Against this backdrop, Brisbane Arts Theatre shows what should be happening at South Brisbane, Kelvin Grove and New Farm. Starting its theatrical year even before the midnight chimes of New Year's Eve, Arts entertains its loyal customers with shows for adults and children, all the result of amateur performers and crew dedicating their holidays to theatre for the love of it. And in this January's main house production, Come Blow Your Horn, they have another winner. Neil Simon's first play, first produced in 1961, this is an amusing if not particularly challenging take on family life. Set in the dying days of the pre-permissive society, it features the shenanigans of a pair of brothers as they pursue various women and seek to avoid their parents' attempts at control. Director Gary O'Neil achieves a good pace, notwithstanding some slower passages in the dialogue, while sets and lighting evoke the era. The cast act uniformly well. Darrell Plumridge as elder brother Alan is a convincing man-about-town who directs his energies into avoiding his father's expectations that he work for a living. The ladies he juggles are entertainingly and fetchingly presented by Bil Campbell Hurry and Georgina Robinson. Marcus Costello succeeds in capturing younger brother Buddy's metamorphosis from nerd to letch. The roles of the parents are played well by a commanding Brian Cannon and a confused Margaret Doumany, who is most effective in a long solo passage involving ringing phones and mixed messages. With the exception of Cannon, the performers' accents are for the most part satisfactory, at least to Australian ears. I continue to wonder why local directors don't re-set plays such as these in Australia, so as to avoid the whole accent problem. That quibble aside, this is a nice start to the year from the Arts Theatre. Professional companies, please take note! —
John Henningham (Performance seen: 3 January 2004) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine |
|
What's On this Month |
Theatre links | Forum | Contact | Home webmaster@stagediary.com |