| Reviews: 2008
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The Magic Flute Opera Queensland (Conservatorium Theatre) Step right up! The circus is in town. But it's not your conventional razzamataz big top entertainment. This time it's a new take on Mozart's immortal opera, The Magic Flute. Director Christine Douglas has reasoned that long before being canonised, the The Magic Flute was a species of low-life entertainment for the Viennese masses, its producers thumbing their noses at the conventional Italianate operas staged in mainstream theatres. Spoken and sung in the local language rather than Italian, it was more akin to musical comedy than to high-brow opera. Douglas has set out to recapture the carnival atmosphere of the original concept (see Milos Forman's film version of Amadeus) by adopting a circus setting for The Magic Flute in this premiere production. Bird-catcher Papageno has become a clown (catching feathers instead of birds), villain Monostatos is a strongman, high priest Sarastro is ringmaster, the Queen of the Night a knife-thrower — you get the idea. It makes for colourful settings and costumes, splendidly designed by Simone Romaniuk, and many fascinating characters and characterisations. There are also some clever devices, such as a magic flute that floats in the air and plays itself. Yet for me, it doesn't quite gel as a theatrical performance. A circus theme should have provided a lot more fun and excitement — perhaps some gymnastics, lion-taming and fire-eating, or even just some juggling or a bit more old-style slapstick — maybe some well thrown custard pies. There are some laughs, but not enough, and the production as a whole lacks zest. And despite or perhaps because of the big-top framing, much of the magic and mystery we associate with this opera has been diminished. It's difficult to retain thematic coherence in the face of the text: one wonders, for example, why a bunch of circus toughs would be so focused on the search for meaning and the brotherhood of man. And while the liberal translation of Viennese entrepreneur Emanuel Schikaneder's rather ordinary original script is certainly plain and easily comprehended, it's too often simply banal, reminiscent of Broadway's lesser moments: for example "If you need a helping hand/I will help you understand". Despite such reservations about the production, the excellent singing and the well-textured music from Richard Lewis's Queensland Orchestra are very cheering. Ensemble sections are of a high standard, while the principals are balanced, vocally complementing each other very well. Some gems of moments include the first duet between Papageno and Pamina, as well as Tamino's interactions with the trio of maidens who lead him up the garden path. As Tamino, tenor Christopher Saunders has a consistently pleasing and sonorous voice, while Sarah Crane is a very fetching Pamina and is vocally excellent. Jason Barry-Smith, although a rather doleful Papageno, sings beautifully, and the role of his playmate Papagena is cheekily and charmingly captured by Sara Carvalho. As Queen of the Night Judit Lorincz is dazzling, drawing appreciative applause. Although on opening night a little shaky at the start of her second big number — perhaps not surprisingly given the difficulty of standing on bleachers in stilettos — she quickly warmed to the challenge and finished with a fine flourish. Russian Gennadi Dubinsky as Sarastro plumbs the depths with a resonant and powerful bass, ably complemented by Andrew Collis as the speaker, while Virgilio Marino sings and acts the padded "strongman" Monostasos with style. As the Queen's assistants, Gaynor Morgan, Jessica O'Donoghue and Sarah Sweeting are a chirpy and sexy trio, while chorus members are splendid collectively and in smaller character parts. Bernard Wheaton and Joshua Rowe sing their Germanic hymn with heavenly harmony. Playing in Brisbane from 12th July to 2nd August, 2008, followed by a regional tour. Tour dates — August 2008 Thursday 7th: Gold Coast Arts Centre Saturday 9th: Empire Theatre, Toowoomba Tuesday 12th: The Brolga Theatre, Maryborough Thursday 14th: Pilbeam Theatre, Rockhampton Saturday 16th: Mackay Entertainment Centre Tuesday 19th: Burdekin Theatre, Ayr Thursday 21st: Townsville Civic Theatre Saturday 23rd: Cairns Civic Theatre —
John Henningham (Performance seen: 12th July 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Giselle Australian Ballet (Lyric Theatre) Imagine a world where love triumphs over death — that is the Australian Ballet's Giselle. This exquisite ballet soars to the heights of human beauty and aspiration. It tells the story of the peasant girl Giselle (Rachel Rawlins) and her love for Count Albrecht (Robert Curran) despite his betrayal of her. Rachel Rawlins dances the title role of Giselle superbly. In Act I she is a faint-hearted, innocent peasant cruelly lead astray by Count Albrecht disguising himself as one of the common people. Giselle loves to dance, despite her weak heart. Giselle beseeches her mother (danced brilliantly by Janette Mulligan) to be allowed to dance. Janette Mulligan brings the singular authority and grace of her experience to the mother's role. Giselle stands out in a cream outfit among the fawns and browns of the other peasants. Notwithstanding the warnings of the forester, Hilarion (Tristan Message) Giselle falls for the charm of Albrecht. The famous peasant Pas De Deux is performed ably by Leanne Sthamenov and Daniel Gaudiello. When count Albrecht's betrayal is revealed Giselle is struck mad. This is a moment in ballet never to be forgotten. Your reviewer well remembers shedding a tear 35 years ago in the old Her Majesty's Theatre here in Brisbane when the great Gailene Stock danced the mad scene for the then Australian Ballet's production of Giselle. Rachel Rawlins does it differently. Instead of the "coming-apart, centre-cannot-hold" of Gailene Stock, Rachel Rawlins reveals a different, equally powerful side of madness — the profound and instant change to the face arising out of a train smash in the mind. After initially falling with grief she rises with loosened hair and savagely damaged psyche to take the audience through pathways of the soul known only to the rejected and betrayed. Her mad scene is utterly, nobly, magnificent. What is it about dance that cuts to the truth of human nature beyond the superficial labelling of psychiatry? While science labels, art expresses. Rachel Rawlins takes us to places within ourselves seldom visited. After interval the audience enters into the strange, pure, white, powerful world of those women who have died before marriage with a broken heart — the Wilis. It is a frightening world — hence the phrase "gives us the willies". This world was introduced to Giselle's author courtesy of Heinrick Heine, a German poet who had written a book about Germanic traditions and sagas published in France under the name "De l'Allemagne" in 1835. In that book Heine speaks of those ghosts of previously mortal maidens who died from broken hearts before their wedding day. They rise from their graves at midnight to gather along the highways with where they lure men and literally dance them to death. In the second act, who should be in the forest after midnight but the cad, bounder and blackguard Albrecht (Robert Curran)? Giselle has recently joined the ranks of the Wilis. Albrecht is subject to the less than tender mercy of the Queen of the Willis, Myrtha, danced with great authority by Olivia Bell. The corps de ballet rise to new heights in their manifestation as Wilis. Somehow they dance with both beauty and military precision, as if moved by forces higher than mere base minds can comprehend. There is a logic and justice to their punishment of Albrecht; however Giselle disturbs the iron logic of their wrath by intervening to protect Albrecht whom she still loves despite his having caused the loss of her heart, her mind and her life. If Romeo and Juliet is the story of love's defiance of death, then Giselle is the story of love's triumph over death. In spite of her history, in spite of the peer pressure, Giselle dances to save her beloved. The contest between death and love continues until first light when the Wilis (folklore cousins to the vampires) must retreat into the dark. Giselle nurtures Albrecht until this moment, sustaining his life in spite of it all. The Queensland Orchestra under conductor Nicolette Fraillon lifts us through this mysterious journey. They are true to their task. Artistic director David McAllister has acted wisely and respectfully in continuing the production as conceived by his predecessor Maina Gielgud. This season of Giselle was fittingly dedicated to acclaimed Russian ballerina Irina Baronova who died in early July in Byron Bay. In 1938 Baronova toured Australia with the Ballet Russes. The Australian Ballet's Giselle manifests the redemptive power of truth, love and beauty. Playing: 8 - 12 July 2008 Duration: 2 hours 5 minutes including one interval of 20 minutes —
Matt Foley (Performance seen: 8th July 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine A Midsummer Night's Dream Harvest Rain Theatre Company (Sydney Street Theatre, New Farm) While being constantly reinvented for the stage, it is refreshing to see a conventional adaptation of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. That's not to say this new production by Sarah McCoy is unadventurous or tiresome — it's the absolute opposite. In fact, I dare anyone not to give this production a standing ovation when they're not slapping their knee in laughter at the 'mechanicals' or being entranced by the woodland fairies. Dream, rather than a play, feels more like a set of interwoven masquerades, shifting location from Athens to Fairyland, yet doesn't take away from its overall effectiveness in demonstrating high-energy comedy at its finest. McCoy's literal interpretation of the text has her painting Oberon's forest in typical Victorian design, with a slight sense of neuroticism. The link between the enchanted forest and the classical world of Athens is the young maiden Hermia (Melanie Zanetti) who refuses to accept her father's choice of suitor, Demetrius (Nick Skubij), and instead runs away with her lover, Lysander (Sam Clark). Egeus (Paul Adams), Hermia's father, enlists the aid of Theseus (Vanja Matula), the Duke of Athens, to enforce his wishes upon his daughter. Under Athenian law, Hermia must accept her father's decision or perish, yet Theseus grants her the choice of life-long chastity. Hermia and Lysander thus escape into the forest by night. Hermia informs her friend, Helena (Imogen Hopper) of her plans, not knowing that Helena has just been rejected by Demetrius. Helena doggedly follows Demetrius as he plans to meet up with Hermia in the woods. Meanwhile, Oberon (Vanja Matula), king of the fairies, and his wife Titania (Julie-Anna Edwards) arrive at the forest outside Athens. Titania intends to stay in Athens to attend the wedding of Theseus and Hippolyta (Julie-Anna Edwards), yet Oberon, who has become estranged from his wife, recruits the mischievous Puck (Ross Balbuziente) to help punish her. Elsewhere in the forest a band of labourers (or 'mechanicals') are practising to perform a version of 'Pyramus and Thisbe' for Theseus' wedding. Now, if that seems like an eyeful of affiliations and intentions, it surely is, but it sets the platform for the hilarity that will ensue in later acts. The play itself is one that grows on the audience from beginning to end. While the first moments between Hippolyta and Theseus are of bare design and performance, the following scenes in the forest and Athens provide a visual feast and tour-de-force performances from the 20-strong cast. The slapstick romps involving the bewildered lovers with their misplaced passions are comedy at its finest but they're almost upstaged by the 'mechanicals' led by Mathew Filkins as Nick Bottom, whose enthusiasm and comedic timing has to be seen to be believed. Yet, the act to be treasured comes when the 'mechanicals' recite their version of 'Pyramus and Thisbe', where Francis Flute played by Dash Kruck performs a rendition of a woman so hilarious it had the sold-out crowd in tears. Credit must also be given to the strong supporting cast who made this version of Dream a delight, with their flawless projection and spot-on characterisation. Ross Balbuziente revels in the physicality of Puck while Vanja Matula projects a sense of other-worldly charm with his dual performance as Theseus and Oberon. Imogen Hopper as Helena is the standout female performer, switching from love-crazed to melancholy in an instant, while Melanie Zanetti as Hermia is nothing short of a bundle of energy. Sam Clark as Lysander and Nick Skubij as Demetrius display obvious chemistry with each of their partners and seem to take pleasure in the farcical nature of the goings-on in the forest. The stage design by Josh McIntosh seems too simple in the early scenes in Athens with Theseus and Hippolyta. Early judgements like this are short-lived though when we are pulled into the world of the forest where fairy lights, natural textures and soft lighting create the dream-like visage that overpowers the central characters. The exotic environment imparts a sense of wonder contrasting with the real world of Athens. The music by composer Kylie Morris is also off-putting at first listen with bursts of sporadic synthesised tunes breaking up the earlier scenes. Once we reach Fairyland though, sounds of mischievous voices, crickets and birds lead us into a fantastical and eerie world. There the use of angelic harmonies and soft music are employed to shift from one scene to the other with good effect. Choreography by Callum Mansfield should be given special mention with so many actors on such a small stage. The physicality of the production gives off a feeling of legitimacy with each actor throwing each other around at great peril in some instances. Contrasting with that is the sense of marvel one feels when the three dancing fairies periodically take flight in unison around the forest. For all the reinventions of such a classic Shakespearean text, the classic adaptation still holds strong in today's world. McCoy's willingness to add a sense of neurosis to the production not only differentiates it from other adaptations but makes it stronger. The enthusiasm displayed by all on stage cannot be ignored when viewing A Midsummer Night's Dream and its certainly not going to make you drift off into your own reverie. —
James Conlan (Performance seen: 4th July 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Barber of Seville Opera Queensland (Lyric Theatre) This latest production of the Barber is a gloriously fun-filled and richly musical entertainment — probably the best Barber Brisbane has seen. Even before the overture the production is entrancing, with the curtain open to display Leon Krasenstein's luscious art deco set inspired by Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi. Brian Castles-Onion's Queensland Orchestra launches us into a well-paced overture with a confident sound including rich depth from the lower strings, while on stage, non-singing extras Imogen Rogers, Paul Geoghegan, Dan Crestani, Clinton Stewart and Michael Parlato do their thing as dotty health spa residents — drunk countess, injured matadors, senile general — all in best Fawlty Towers style. Latin-blooded José Carbó impresses with his vigorous performance in the title role, while Russian soprano Elivira Fatykhova as Rosina is simply dazzling. Both handle the intricate highly embellished vocal challenges of Rossini's music with confident singing, together with top comic acting as a bonus. Carbó clowns about and is rarely still, while Fatykhova's funny faces (particularly in reaction to the unwanted attentions of Bartolo) are hilarious. Fatykhova thrills the audience with her vocal gymnastics — sung classy sung high and sung strong. Carbó excels from his first appearance, in all of opera's best-known aria, "Largo al factotum", drawing thunderous applause. It is one of the sad developments of modern professional opera companies that appreciative audiences are never awarded encores. Still, with so many great performances a show with encores would have gone until dawn. Excellent also is John Bolton Wood as Rosina's guardian Dr Bartolo (director of a 1930s Spanish health spa in this John Milson production), whose challenging "A un dottor della mia sorte" patter song is extremely well performed, involving more rapid-pace syllables than anyone would normally utter in a lifetime. But for me the most outstanding performance in a top night is Andrew Collis as the unkempt and malodorous Don Basilio, the scheming priest and music teacher. His rendition of the La calummnia aria must be one of the best ever heard. Adrian Dwyer as the love-sick Count Almaviva has a light and pleasing tenor voice (not always displaying perfect intonation) and a fine comedic sense — his characterisation of count, disguised lover, drunken soldier and parson are diverse and effective. Mention must be made of Adele Johnston, who sings a powerful Act 2 aria and plays her matronly role of Berta with distinction, David Hibbard who has a commanding vocal and physical presence as the officer, and Shaun Brown as Dr Bartolo's servant. (Errol O'Neill and Guy Booth add nicely to the character roles.) Richard Lewis's men's chorus (no women choristers in this show) sing and act well as militia and constabulary, while there is also beautiful and powerful harmonic singing from the principals in their ensemble pieces. There are many other elements to add to the fun — such as Leon Krasenstein's colorful costumes, and the lighting design of Donn Byrnes together with extraordinary gushing fountain effects during the Act 2 storm scene. The music is charming — mostly Rossini at his best, together with some naughty interpolations — touches of Verdi, Mozart, Edith Piaf and even "I did it my way"! —
John Henningham (Performance seen: 22nd May 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Jane Eyre Harvest Rain Theatre Company (Sydney Street Theatre, New Farm) I have to admit it, and it's a big crime. I was a Charlotte Bronte virgin. Upon going to see Polly Teale's stage adaptation of this Bronte classic, I had never picked up a single novel penned by the 19th century English writer. This play was my introduction to the author and I think it is safe to say I will be hitting the library tomorrow, if only to see if Charlotte has done as good a job with her story as Polly Teale. (Mind you, as my very wise editor said, there's a good case for seeing a play with an entirely fresh perspective, as I would not be spending the night judging the production against a remembered version of the novel.) Orphaned Jane (Tanya Dougherty) is a timid girl with a hidden passionate inner self — Bertha (Kathryn Marquet) — whose presence acts at times as a friend to Jane and at others as a menace. At the tender age of 10, Jane lives with her cruel, unloving and oppressing auntie who happily carts her away to Lowood Institution, a harsh and unfeeling school where her only dear friend dies of tuberculosis. As an adult she becomes the English teacher of a delightfully peppy French girl (Elizabeth Gibney) at Thornward, a house in the countryside, where she meets the man who is destined to change her life forever — the master of the house, Mr Rochester (Edward Foy). Foy's performance is enthralling and commanding. He exudes a confidence and extremely strong presence which roots him firmly to the stage. The sexual tension between Mr Rochester and Jane is thick and palpable. It rolls across the audience in a thick mist — an anticipated and longed for tension reminiscent of Darcy and Elizabeth. With speeches, spiels and tenderness that'll make your heart skip a beat, their chemistry underlines the fact that this was the 19th century equivalent of our romantic comedies and chickflicks. The onstage dynamic between Jane and her alter ego Bertha is brilliant; opposite in all aspects of their characters, they yet combine with a fluid and transcendent unity. Dougherty embodies Jane as a strong yet unstable, vulnerable young woman whereas Marquet's alter ego is rampant, emotional and fantastically physical and unhinged. Joanna Butler's choreography and direction are precise and dramatic, timed to perfection and working well with the script. The lighting is subtle yet effective in setting a number of scenes, and the soundtrack appropriate and mood changing. Josh McIntosh's set is sparse but extremely successful.The Van Gogh-esque galvanized copper shrunken room on the left-hand wall of the stage acts as a wonderful visual tool in giving us an open window into Jane's psyche. A constant caged animal through vexation, anger and pain, a light is always shone on this inner sanctuary. Or is it a dark and macabre prison? This production amazes in its variety. It's witty, it's dry, it's high brow, it'll have you laughing out loud and gasping in disbelief. With exuberant and fresh performances spun into an old worldly air of rich, classical and gifted portrayals from the entire cast this play is a success. Dynamic direction ensures this show is a wonderfully entertaining way to spend an evening. Playing: 9th to 31st May —
Grace Naug (Performance seen: 9th May, 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Romeo and Juliet Grin and Tonic (Roma St Parkland Amphitheatre) What better place to put on a performance of the world's greatest love story than in an open amphitheatre, under the stars in one of the most beautiful parks in Brisbane? The location just brims with romantic potential and surrounded by expectant picnickers with blankets and pillows I settled myself in on the steps for some Shakespeare 'al fresco'. With such a well-known classic it's all about the interpretation. And Director Nikki-J Witt has chosen an eclectic view. The costumes are diverse and pinches of modernity bring the performance back to its audience — like the Nurse busting Romeo and Juliet in their timeless balcony scene while taking out the wheelie bin and having a ciggie, or the infectious energetic comradery of the Montague boys sculling beers and talking dirty. There is a beautiful onstage chemistry between the young Romeo (Marcus Whittington) and his fresh-faced Juliet (Nadine Kelly) who with a peppy, youthful schoolgirl slant twinkles in these sassy moments but also brings home the more serious scenes. Their attraction is believable, as is their naive love, and the direction of their scenes is touching and innovative, especially their stolen evening together, where the nude young couple draped in sheets intimately steal the stage. The lovers draw empathy, laughs and knowing smiles from the enthusiastic audience. Veteran Paul Sherman gives both a mature and commanding performance as the friar, providing a sincere portrayal. His evident experience carries some scenes where less experienced players drop the ball. For pure entertainment you can't look much further than the hilarious Cienda McNamara as Juliet's Nurse. She's jovial, animated and a real delight to watch. Generally the play does well in giving us a taste of Shakespeare with a modern spin, accessing the age-old text and bringing it into a modern sphere. The challenge was to make Shakespeare relevant and enjoyable to a contemporary audience, and judging from the constant outbursts of laughter and the vigorous rounds of applause I'd say they'd achieved it. At times some of the cast lack the energy or enthusiasm to carry the 'minor' scenes and some of the director's edgier directorial decisions (for example the slow motion fighting scenes) work only to irritate. Overall it's an enjoyable production but be warned — extra blankets are a must! —
Grace Naug Playing: 29th April to 4th May (Performance seen: 29th April 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine Keating! The Musical Company B (QPAC Playhouse) This is terrific fun. It rattles along with the driving beat of a rock band through the roller-coaster ride that was Paul Keating's rise and fall in the power stakes of Australia . Mike McLeish plays Keating superbly â€" the lean, elegant, brooding presence that was synonymous with the Placido Domingo of Australian Politics. The secret deal with former Prime Minister Bob Hawke at Kirribilli House forms a background for Keating's assault on the top job. Bob Hawke is played artfully by Terry Scerio who later undergoes a remarkable translation into the chilling figure of John Howard. The music has at times an edge of reggae - e.g. "Mabo", an occasional country and western twang and maybe even an element of hip-hop ("Who the man? You the man!"). The unpredictability of political life is echoed in the musical variety For political junkies like your reviewer who lived through this period the story bristles with the big issues of the day. Keating is idealised while Hawke, Hewson, Downer and Howard are lampooned; but whoever said musicals were meant to be fair? For students of parliamentary mortal combat, there is no better moment than Keating's famous riposte to then Opposition Leader John Hewson's question as to why Keating would not call an early election :"I want to do you slowly". This eviscerating answer is given with full Keating-esque gusto. It is hard for many to remember 1993 when Hewson lost the unlosable election, but Brendan Coustley's performance of Hewson in parliamentary battle with Keating makes for an unusual pas de deux. Coustley shows his versatility a little later when, dressed in fishnet stockings and tights, he gives us a racy Alexander Downer to remember. The Adelaide Hills will never be the same. Sometimes it takes the simplicity of song to grasp the true dynamic of the political process. Casey Bennetto shines as a wordsmith and composer. His love duet between Gareth Evans and Cheryl Kernot is a wicked treat. This production is an irreverent, irrepressible romp through the political landscape. It captures the spirit of its subject matter. The music may be a long way from Mahler, but this is truly the musical we had to have. Music and Lyrics by Casey Bennetto. Directed by: Neil Armfield Playing: 23 April to 10 May 2008 Duration: 1 hour 45 minutes â€" one interval 25 minutes —
Matt Foley (Performance seen: 24th April 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine A Midsummer Night's Dream Queensland Ballet The Queensland Ballet's production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" is a delight to the imagination and the senses. The lead role of Hippolyta/Titania is danced magnificently by Rachael Walsh. She leads us on a merry dance indeed through the world of dreams and fairies. She provides the ethereal thread through the complex conflict between the Queen of the Amazons and Theseus, Duke of Athens. Her versatility and grace continue to astound audiences under her spell. There are few roles in dance or theatre more deliciously mischievous than that of Puck who dispenses nectar from a flower given magical power by the bolt of Cupid to induce love. Yu Hui makes the role his own, receiving warm applause from the audience. He darts about creating all manner of unlikely love matches to provoke and amuse. What great fun! Perhaps the high point of his frolics comes after he has played a trick on poor old Bottom the Weaver (Gareth Belling) causing him to sprout a donkey's head. Meanwhile Titania (Rachael Walsh) and her fairies have settled to sleep and Oberon, King of the Fairies (danced ably by Nathan Scicluna) puts flower nectar on her eyes. The beautiful Titania awakes and, seeing the donkey, immediately falls in love with him. Bottom can not believe his luck. At this point all men in the audience could envision a world where beautiful women would look past the superficial ugliness of men and fall in love with their inner beauty! Sadly, at this point the curtain came down on Act One and the dream was temporarily interrupted. The mayhem continues in Act 2 when the rascally Puck applies the nectar to create further love and jealousy, much to the annoyance of Oberon who finally intervenes and ordered Puck to put things right with the lovers. Bottom the Weaver (Gareth Belling) and the other Mechanicals provide excellent comic relief. They dance artfully and resist the temptation to ham it up. Their light touch works. Their "play within the play" complements the action of the central plot. One modest criticism is that the ending is perhaps a little drawn out. It is not necessary to milk applause from an opening night audience so ready to thunder their approval. It is wonderful to have the Queensland Orchestra playing under Concertmaster Warwick Adeney. The strings are particularly moving. The rich strains of Felix Mendelssohn's score float dancers and audience alike through transports of delight. So often in the past budgetary constraints have forced the Queensland Ballet to rely on recorded music. One can only hope this is a sign of a more generous dispensation. The costumes designed by Noelene Hill are stunning. They combined with carefully crafted sets and lighting to fashion a world fit for love's confusions and dreams. As our cinema screens continue to be choked with action scenes of graphic gore it is gratifying that there still sparkles a dancing world of truth and beauty which, as Keats said, is all we know on earth and all we need to know. Choreography by Francois Klaus Music by Felix Mendelssohn, Charles Ives and John Metcalf Concertmaster Warwick Adeney and the Queensland Orchestra 1-15 March 2008, Playhouse, QPAC Duration: 2 hours 10 minutes with one interval (20 minutes) —
Matt Foley (Performance seen: 1st March 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine The Female of the Species Queensland Theatre Company (Cremorne Theatre) By Joanna Murray-Smith Professional production In a very clever piece of programming, Michael Gow has chosen to start QTC's 2008 season with a farce, in its own way as good as Kath and Kim. Or you might like to call it a satire as unsubtly clever as The Simpsons. There are soft targets in every group of our culture, and when there's already a genuine living target in the form of a feisty and world-famous Australian feminist, confronted by and tied up in her own home by an angry young student, we can only be surprised that a play like The Female of the Species hasn't come along before. Germaine Greer really is a legend in her own lifetime, and she's so much of a fearless public figure that, for many of today's younger women as well as men of her own age, she's become an icon of the worst aspects of feminism. I have to admit to a personal bias here, as Germaine and I were close friends as undergraduates, and so I've known her since we were both seventeen and, having lived through those desperate early pre-feminist days with her, I will always support her, no matter how cranky she has become. So I was prepared to be very angry about this play. And there was plenty for someone like me to be angry about in the beginning. Margot Mason, the GG figure in this play, is a foul-mouthed, arrogant, self-obsessed academic who, at this stage of her life, is living off her reputation while suffering from writer's block. She's set up by playwright Joanna Murray-Smith as an Aunt Sally, worthy of all the scorn we can pour on her. And when she is confronted by one of her recent students, whose face she can't even remember and whose work she has disparaged, and who blames her for destroying women's lives because of the positional shifts she has made over forty years of writing, it seems the set-up is complete. It's such an obvious set-up, too, the generational argument between the first-wave feminists who did all the hard work (special pleading here from me, of course!) and their daughters and granddaughters who either (a) take it all for granted or (b) turn their backs on it or (c) blame the first-wavers for any unfortunate consequences that have arisen in forty years, that I was again prepared to be angry. Cheap shots at the pioneers! It's as bad as reviling the suffragettes. Why should Margot be blamed because Molly's mother gave up her baby for adoption, following Margot's advice in the 1990s, or because she later threw herself under a train clutching a copy of Margot's The Cerebral Vagina? Is this Margot's fault, and does she deserve to be murdered because of it? Are all philosophical thinkers to be blamed if their readers follow them unthinkingly? We're now about 15 minutes into the play, and thankfully the angry young gun-toting student Molly (played with irritating perspicuity by Francesca Savige) now becomes a soft target herself, and we lose our sympathy for her as she becomes a figure of mockery. Enter then, in succession, Margot's own domesticated daughter Tess (Georgina Symes in a classic mother-daughter love-hate role play), who has walked out on her husband and kids, and come to her mother's for a Bex and a nice lie down, or something like that. She immediately bonds with the young terrorist, until the next character appears, Andrew Buchanan in masterly form as her pompous soft-centred SNAG of a husband, so concerned that she has left the kids unattended, but so solicitous about her, that he forgets to be angry, and keeps popping out his New Age platitudinous malapropisms to the extent that the audience is now falling out of their chairs with laughter, and the young terrorist shifts loyalties and casts a lusty eye on him. Who's next, who's next? In comes a tall super-sexy black taxi-driver (Kenneth Ransom, please don't leave us and go to Perth) wanting to make a phone call to get his taxi unbogged from the muddy drive, only to be confronted by some gun-wielding cast member or other â€" the gun has changed hands many times by this stage. He manages to grab the gun himself, terrorises everyone except Margot's housewife daughter Tess, who decides she likes the strong masterly type, and demands a bit of rough trade with him. Next on the scene is Margot's publisher Theo Hanover, from whom she has been trying to hide the fact of her writer's block, and there were sighs and palpitations all round as Brisbane's favourite son, Anthony Phelan, made a welcome return from Sydney to play this bluff and almost believable character â€" and I'm not going to tell you what truths are revealed, but you won't be surprised. And so it gets sillier and sillier (and funnier, I have to say), until Margot is vindicated when she reveals herself to be the most level-headed of all of them, everyone changes partners, and all's for the best in this best of all possible worlds, as Pangloss tried to pretend in Voltaire's classic farce Candide, and we all went home satisfied. Sure, it was loud and brassy and very very silly. Sure, some of the actors overdid the voice projection and underestimated the acoustics of the Cremorne Theatre. Sure, it was full of platitudes and phoney intellectualism. But it was good for a laugh, and a joy to see Burns, Buchanan, Ransom and Phelan in particular having fun just hamming it up, and what more can I say than it was a Nice Night's Entertainment — in capital letters of course. Playing until 15 March 2008: Tuesday 6.30pm, Wednesday-Saturday 7.30pm, matinees Wednesday 1pm, Saturday 2pm Duration: 1 hour 40 minutes, no interval —
Alison Cotes (Performance seen: 14th February 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine A Mouthful of Pins Visy Theatre By Leah Mercer Professional Production Having seen two productions directed by Margi Brown Ash in the past, I was positively bursting with excitement about A Mouthful of Pins, expecting the possibility of being as profoundly moved by it as I was by the others. Walking into the hazy theatre (smoke machine), I took in a sparsely dressed set (a stumpy bed with a tangle of white linen bordered by some iron fencing hung with white masks); a piano (ooh, live music!); screens (who doesn't love a bit of multimedia?); and a big construct upstage left, which turned out to be a big Victorian dress that could be climbed in and out of (a lovely piece of design work). The stage was set for something interesting. And it was interesting. Except that, I am sorry to say, I got completely lost. Granted, this was a preview performance and, having been stuck in traffic on the way to the show, I was relegated to a seat on the side of the stage (in terms of being able to fully appreciate the projections, this was saddening). But the play just never started making sense to me. I certainly had not expected this production to be linear or realistic, but neither had I expected to feel puzzled throughout. There is always that initial stage of a performance where you have to concentrate hard to work out how things relate, what's happening and who's who. During this performance, I felt as if I never really got past this state, never emerged to a place where I had a grip on the characters and the action and could begin to absorb the play at a different level. Rather, I began to feel panicked that I was missing something that everyone else was getting. This is not to say that the production is amateurish or unworthy of attention. The performances are strong. Aole T. Miller as a motherly Southern Belle figure is delightful and gives an assured and textured performance. Leah Mercer, as the central character, gives a balanced performance and sings beautifully, and Scotia Monkivitch's characterâ€"by turns paranoid, comical and cattyâ€"is a galvanising presence. I enjoyed the live music also, which complements and enriches, but never upstages the actionâ€"a violin is the perfect accompaniment to the theme of melancholia. I don't think the play's focus on melancholia, depression and isolation is necessarily its downfall, though at times the angst comes off as laboured and trite. The best moments in the script are moments of lightness, irony, cynicism ("finding the mantra" for instance) but often the text is dense, hard to absorb, cryptic, and ultimately, for me, alienating. I felt as an audience member that, had I been able to cling to less slippery characters and to a more concrete understanding of events preceding the melancholic cycle, I wouldn't have felt as cut adrift by this production as I did. In short, I needed this play to be kinder to me. Go and see it, by all means; don't let me stop you. The team at work here is professional and strong. There is much potential for a fantastic showâ€"the exploration that it sets out upon (through territories of suffering, psychoanalysis, medicine, history, yin and yang) is exciting and enticing. I hope that it gains the strength that I had wished it would wield. Playing until 16 February 2008: Fri 15, 8pm; Sat 16, 2pm and 8pm —
Casey Hutton (Performance seen: 13th February 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine AALST National Theatre of Scotland/Tramway, Glasgow (Brisbane Powerhouse) By Duncan McLean Professional production Usually when we go to see a play, we come out with some kind of resolution in our own minds. Whether the writing and production are good or bad, we have formed an opinion about the message of the play, made up our minds about the characters and their motivation and, in serious plays, made an ethical judgment about the worthiness or otherwise of their behaviour. Not so with Aalst, a play about a married couple who murdered their two children, one an infant girl of three months and the other a seven-year-old boy. It's based on a real-life incident that took place nine years ago in the small Belgium town of Aalst, where the parents are currently serving time for the crime, which they freely admitted committing. The trial of these two people has been dramatised in a gut-wrenching one-hour interrogation, and the version we are seeing has been transferred to Scotland with Scottish actors. This has a distancing effect from the actual trial but, at the same time, a grim truth for an Anglo-Saxon audience , especially those who are familiar with Scottish crime series on television and the dreadful bleakness of its big cities and the hopelessness of people who live on the edge. The pair, Cathy and Michael, who call each other Coo and Moo, sit on straight chairs side by side but not too close, leaving it open as to whether they are in the same room/court/cell or separate from each other, because although they can hear each other, they rarely interact. They are being interrogated by an emotionless male voice from the back of the theatre, and even now I'm not sure whether Gary Lewis, who takes this role, is in real-time or a recording. Just whom this voice is supposed to be is also open to interpretation — is it the voice of the judge, the prosecuting barrister, a social worker or, on a more symbolic level, the voice of God on the Day of Judgment? This voice fires questions at the couple, about their early lives and the exact details of the crime, and they answer in flat working-class Scottish accents that chill you to the bone with their lack of emotion. We learn that both had abusive childhoods — of course; that Cathy was sexually abused by her father from the age of 11 and that Michael was put in a boys' home when very young and has been a petty criminal all his life; that he has constantly abused Cathy both sexually and physically by raping her anally, beating her up, and burning her with cigarettes; but that they love each other with a rare devotion. They also admit every detail of the way they murdered the children — of taking both children to a city hotel where, on the first night, they wake up the baby and smother her with a pillow. Two days later, with the dead baby's body still in the room, Cathy tries to smother little Matthew, who struggles and pleads with her not to kill him because he doesn't want to die. So they hold him down and Michael stabs him in the back with a pair of scissors. So far, so horrific, especially as the parents vacillate between admitting that their crime was unforgivable, that they did it in cold blood but wish they could turn the clock back. It doesn't matter that I've given away the plot, because the plot is not important. What matters, and what makes this play a really important piece of theatre, is the way we as audience react to the couple. Are they born monsters and heartless killers? Is there perhaps such a thing as a criminal gene, and should people like this be allowed to reproduce, or even live? All our politically-correct reactions are thrown out the window, and words like death penalty and eugenics spring unbidden to our minds. But when we hear about their hopeless lives, their dreadful childhoods, their pathetic inability to accept responsibility and their belief that society owes them a living, we wonder whether it is the system that is indeed at fault? It's the old Nurture/Nature debate at its grimmest, and when Michael, finally losing his temper, suggests to the Inquisitor that perhaps it would be better if he were to kill himself (which he tried to do after the murders but failed through lack of courage), there's a part of us that wants to stand up and cheer Yes! But what hope did they ever have, and what is the solution to what the middle class like to call "people like this"? There's no suggestion offered in the play, no guidelines, and not even any hint of what their eventual fate is to be. We are left bemused and helpless, shaking our heads in despair, and thanking whatever gods there be that we don't have to make such decisions. And then, in the last five minutes, just when it's becoming absolutely unbearable, there's another twist in the motivation of the couple, and I for one was left gob-smacked — and I'm not going to tell you what happens, because it's this last suggestion that raises the play out of being simply very fine drama into greatness. Everybody I spoke to after the performance was equally shattered, and one twenty-something literally couldn't stand up because she was shaking so much. It's a perfect production of a perfect play, but it's not a play for everyone. If you're very fragile emotionally for any reason, you definitely shouldn't go, and even I, cynical hard-bitten critic as I am, was on the point of walking out two or three times, and slept very badly that night. But for everybody else, this is a scarifying but must-see masterpiece. Playing until Sunday 3 February 2008 â€" Tuesday, Wednesday at 6.30pm, Thursday â€" Saturday 7.30pm, Sunday 5pm Duration : 65 minutes —
Alison Cotes (Performance seen: 29th January 2008) www.STAGEDIARY.com: Queensland's Online Stage Magazine |