Review: That Face

That Face 
Red Stitch Actors Theatre
30 April 2010
Red Stitch

That Face is the show I'm going to be comparing everything else to for the rest of the year.

UK writer Polly Stenham was 19 when she wrote That Face. Within a year it was leaving Royal Court audiences gob smacked and transferred to The Duke of York Theatre in the West End. It's appearing in major company programs all over the world and Melbourne can thank our theatre gods that Red Stitch secured it for us.

With a balance of black comedy and gut-kick emotion, Strenham's world sits on a precipice of uncomfortable familiarity letting its audience fall into its depths and crawl out reeling.

Teenage Mia turns to her brother Henry for help after an incident with Valium and an initiation at her boarding school, but Henry has already dropped out of school to look after their alcoholic mother and only the thought of their wealthy and absent father returning can kick him into action, or the attention of Mia's friend Izzy.

With unfair choices and impossible dilemmas, Strenham's debut work belies her age dramatically and emotionally. Her adults are seen through the eyes of her teenagers, which reveals the raw impact of their behaviour on their children without forcing blame. Mother Martha nods to her Whose Afraid of Virgina Wolf namesake and surpasses Albee's Martha with her out of control controlling behaviour. And Strenham brings a refreshing authenticity to her teenage characters that lets them feel deeply and irrationally without the condescending tone often implied by more "mature" writers.

The Red Stitch creative team capture the truth and heart of this remarkable script. Sarah Giles direction sustains a propelling tension that allows moments of relief without ever letting the underlying questions fade or allowing the extreme characters to control the pace or focus.  Claude Marcos's design feels at one with the direction and uses the small Red Stitch stage to it's full advantage by making the dominating bed a sunken level and adding a carpet wall that brings its own welcome wit.

Tim Potter as Henry was selected for Red Stitch's first Graduate Programme in 2008 and is already one of Melbourne's most astonishing actors. Matt Smith (the new Dr Who) was the original Henry and Potter should soon be as well known and respected. Lauren Henderson (Mia) and Lucy Honigan (Izzy) bring a rare clarity and depth to their teen girls.  Dion Mills (Hugh) gives the strongest performance I've seen from him and Sarah Sutherland's Martha is as complex as the character's addiction and her scenes with Potter are reason enough to see That Face.

Red Stitch quietly put our larger companies to shame. See That Face for an an adrenaline shot to remind you that theatre can and should be this bloody brilliant.

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.

Review: The Grenade

The Grenade

Melbourne Theatre Company
15 April 2010
Playhouse, the Arts Centre

What does a wealthy middle class family do when a grenade appears in their open plan living space? Luckily, the dad is a lobbyist who specialises in crisis management and it turns out to be more of a metaphorical grenade that ignites deeper fears about family love and security being in danger. If The Grenade were an episode of Packed to the Rafters, it’d rate through the roof.

Tony McNamara’s work is about fear, especially the fears invented by the comfortable middle class. We read forwarded emails about plastic water bottles causing breast cancer, but don’t think twice about the impact of driving to the supermarket to buy water in a bottle.  The easier our lives, the more we worry. 

The script is shaped to perfection, filled with tippity-top wit ("Broken eggs: you've raped chickens"), winning crowd pleasers ("Hi, I'm Randy") and a plot that jogs along like an Olympic pace setter. McNamara's original characters are plucked from the southern bank of the Yarra and have funny names like Busby (who is nothing like Berkely) and Wheat (who favours an "Abe Lincoln meets Gatsby" look). There's even a hot ex-nun who is writing a romantic erotic novel with a muscle-bound spunk called Randy, a sardonic and judgmental baby who may be evil and a teenage girl who wants to lose her virginity.

And with a cast like Garry McDonald and Mitchell Butel, giggles are unavoidable...and these are all the sort of things we say when we were bored.

The MTC rightly love a good play that it's subscribers can relate to. The Grenade is bit like a Melbourne God Of Carnage (by Yasmina Reza) from their 2009 program, and they share director Peter Evans. Both are about the same tribe, set in an expensive apartment and have jokes about posh imported food. But where God of Carnage laughed with "us", The Grenade is laughing at "them" with humour that is is approaching (but not reaching) parody. By putting a mocking wedge between the audience and the stage, it feels unauthentic (a stainless steel fridge does not equal authenticity) and misses the opportunity for the audience to attach emotionally and feel anything for this family.


This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.

Review: Elizabeth - Almost By Chance A Woman

Elizabeth - Almost By Chance A Woman

Malthouse Theatre
7 April 2010
Merlyn Theatre, CUB Malthouse

If the Shakespearean malepropism "sporty bras of foreplay"* leaves you dabbing your eyes with your long white handkerchief, then get ye to Elizabeth - Almost By Chance A Woman.

Elizabeth is directed by Micahel Kantor. I love how Kantor has developed the Malthouse Theatre program. We've felt the impact of having artists and a dramaturge in residence, the Tower program has let many independent companies reach much wider audience and we've seen brilliant artists from all over. Of course, folk have whinged (some as they have free plonk at the opening night party), but sometimes it's just because they aren't part of the program.

I just wish I could connect and feel something when Kantor directs. His theatrical voice is distinct and bold and totally his. As an over-analyiser, I can always see the intent and the thought behind his work, but I don't go to the theatre (or read a book or watch TV) to admire technique. I go to wake up my heart and be taken somewhere amazing with people who make me feel and care.

Every artist in the Elizabeth team has been let free to create at the peak of their skill and imagination. Anna Cordingley's design is (as always) so exquisitely detailed that your eyes have to orgasm to take it all in; Louise Fox and Luke Devenish have written a gloriously bawdy script, filled with Aussie slang and cunt jokes that must have Dario Fo laughing from the heavens and wishing that "Mary Scrag of Scotts" would work in his original Italian; Billy Brown gets to wear a frock and swear like an old drag queen in a bitchy mood after a dozen midori and lemonades (and be Shakespeare); and the super cast get to wear amazing frocks and have a sing song.

Everyone is having a total ball and loving themselves sick as the audience are hypnotised by the bright pink tights, work to recognise the songs that were written in the later reign of Elizabeth II, and wish they had a boutique pale ale to scull every time that Billy said something about vaginas. Elizabeth leaves us so busy admiring all the very clever pretty that the story almost disappears. And there's a kick-ass story up there about a dying woman who is losing control of her mind and her personal life and her kingdom, while being harassed by Shakespeare.

Julie Forsyth as Elizabeth is so amazing that she keeps bringing the audience back. She understands the tone of Kantor's direction and uses all of its extravagance to make her monarch someone memorable.  But her performance doesn't feel completely supported by the rest of the show, apart from Paul Jackson's lighting that brings emotional light and shade to the stage when it's lacking.

No matter how good something is by itself, it is doing bad if it distracts the audience, who, after all,  are who the production is for. If pink tights are so memorable that it's all we look at in the scene, bring out the flesh coloured ones. If "clitty cheese" is making us laugh at Billy's smirk and and not at Donna's manipulation of her queen, the connection with the characters is lost. "Neverending Story" was so beautiful that I want a mini-windup version to put on my mantlepiece, but I have no idea what purpose it served in the story, as it created a faux-nostalgic emotion that wasn't for the suffering souls being played on the stage.

There's an old fashionista trick that says, before you leave the house turn around in front of the mirror and the first thing you see – take it off. There's a well used self-editing trick that says, highlight the phrases and words that you know are brilliant writerly writing – then cut them. If something is distracting from the story, a director should take it away.

Elizabeth has too much wonderful in it to be so emotionally unrewarding.


*Fortinbras of Norway, but I know you all got it!

This review appears on AussieThearte.com.

Review: A Rare Sight

MELBOURNE INTERNATIONAL COMEDY FESTIVAL 2010
A Rare Sight
Maeve Higgins and Nick Coyle
9 April 2010
The Black Box

I got and totally enjoyed A Rare Sight, but my fondness for quirky character-based comedy is no secret, so I can see why this show is polarising opinions.

Forget that the show has changed since the program blurb was written and that some reviewers have shown off their bagging skills; if (like me) you love shows like Donna and Damo, Monster of The Deep 3D, Kunst Rock and Dos or Duo, you may adore A Rare Sight.

Maeve Higgins and Nick Coyle are a twin brother and sister team (even more disfunctional than Die Rotten Punkte playing next door to them) who want to offer "an alternative to all the humour that is going around" and share their tips about how to live your best life and love your best love. They don't have any solid experience in love or life, but they have done some research by watching telly and have a whiteboard and some useless coms headphones to help.

Their lessons in the universal problems of finding a spouse, getting a job and finding out if an alien is in your spouse are gorgeously and absurdly funny and their performances are so endearing that it's easy to forgive what isn't working. Nevertheless, for all it's goodness and funniness, A Rare Sight hasn't found its rhythm and is missing its mark because it isn't sure where the goal post is and hasn't decided what it wants the audience to feel for these wonderfully original characters.

There are hints about these lost souls' past, but I wanted to know how they got to this point. The back story of them doing ads as kids is currently serving as a joke or two, rather than helping us understand how these odd siblings came to be giving bad lectures.  There's so much gorgeous material to be discovered (yes, I mean written) and shared that will help the audience to love and care about them and want to buy them drinks after the show.

As it's a theatre show, using more of that stuff that theatre does so well will help to bring it to life. It's still  relying too much on the written words and the performances. Both of which are vital, but a design that helps us understand where we are, more odd props and the outside eye and extra creativity of a director that will help take it to where it deserves to be.

I so hope that this isn't the end of A Rare Sight. It's just not cooked yet, but the ingredients are some of best around, so they shouldn't go to waste.

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.

Review: Kunst Rock

MELBOURNE INTERNATIONAL COMEDY FESTIVAL 2010
Kunst Rock: Die Roten Punkte
Full Tilt and Button Eye Productions
8 April 2010
Fairfax Studio, the Arts Centre

It was almost too perfect to see Die Roten Punkte's  Kunst Rock on the same day that Malcolm McLaren left us to manage a great gig in the sky and have a quiet shandy with Sid and Nancy.

It's been said that punk is attitude, not art, but don't say that to McLaren fans and certainly not to fans of the greatest post-punk punk rock group from Berlin, M-Elbourne: Die Roten Punkte, who are back in "the artiest city in the world" with their new kunsty album and show.

One always asks why when brothers and sisters form a band, but Astrid and Otto Rot are no Karen and Richard. Their relationship is as co-dependant and dubious as a young Donnie and Marie, but their TV series song would be "I'm a little bit vegan, I'm a little bit drunken slut" and they sell albums to more than pre-teen girls (yes, I watched the D&M show) and post-senile nannas. And a lot of questions get answered about the Rot siblings upbringing in their 13-minute mini-rock opera.  If we could have live flames in the theatre, we would have been waving our cigarette lighters.

Like Hedwig and Spinal Tap, the creators behind the characters are invisible, as this rock prince and princess are too real to ever be doubted. They re-invent rock cliches so they almost feel new and play a night of parody so perfect that it's nearly impossible to not buy a banana house or a t-shirt in the foyer and slip your underwear to whichever member of the duo you fancy.

With their new ninja roadie and the most-awesome-ever inflatable,  Die Roten Punkte have moved from intimate venues to the artiness of the Arts Centre (thank you Full Tilt) and if they keep on like this, we may soon be resenting them for playing a sports arena.

Kunst Rock is for anyone with a punk soul or a hidden collection of Donnie and Marie albums... and Malcolm would have loved them.


This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.

Review: Alzheimer's The Musical: A Night to Remember

MELBOURNE INTERNATIONAL COMEDY FESTIVAL 2010
Alzheimer's The Musical: A Night to Remember
Prospect Productions
1 April 2010
Chapel Off Chapel

Had enough of a Comedy Fest full of gen Ys whinging about everything or gen Xs telling you that we are right, have always been right and will always be right? Then it's off to Rod Quantock and Denise Scott for you and don't miss Alzheimer's The Musical.

"To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable."    Oscar Wilde

I'm with Oscar, and I think I'm in line behind Maureen Sherlock, Lyn Shakepeare and Carole Yelland. This terrific trio aren't ready for the nursing home yet, but they are of "an age" where g-strings are no longer an underwear option and 40-somethings give up seats for them on the tram (the gen Ys sure as hell don't), so it's time to start exploring how fun life can be when knee highs are easier than pantyhose and slippers can be worn in public. 

From the opening number, "I'm Living in my Seventies" (even better for those alive in the 70s), to the obligatory matching shoes and colostomy bag joke, there are plenty of gags about bowls and bowels, but it's the jokes about pelvic floor muscles, the granny sex chat and the best-ever balloon models about reproductive organs that have all ages squirming with laughter. 

The story is minimal (and not at all about Alzheimer's), but there is room for some poignant moments that remind us that losing your loved ones, friends and health isn't necessarily a barrel of monkeys. 

If you remember buying cookies at David Jones, had a Mickey Mouse watch or have trouble remembering the minuet  (I can barely remember the men I fucked ... boom boom), forgo the young ones ranting in the city, grab all your boomer relatives and friends and get on the tram to Chapel off Chapel for mutton dressed as mutton and a hip replacement hop that'll make you glad that we can age disgracefully. 

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.

Review: Monster of the Deep 3D

MELBOURNE INTERNATIONAL COMEDY FESTIVAL 2010
Monster of the Deep 3D
Claudia O'Doherty
3 April 2010
Melbourne Town Hall

From it's pre-show distraction card to the most awesome of all awesome virtual technologies, Monster of the Deep 3D spits on any whizzbang IMAX film.

Claudia O'Doherty is the only surviving inhabitant of Aquaplex, a top-secret,underwater complex built from a mix of 70s paranoia and international cooperation. A child of a brainiac and a hunk, she was born in this pressurised world and didn't see land until an unfortunate explosion.

Like any isolated cultish civilisation, Aquaplex developed it's own social customs that have left Claudia slightly unable to adjust to the strangeness of sharing a land word with billions, but she's determined to share her world with the curious folk who come to her presentation.

Her low-tech presentation is as cute as a kitten, as bitter-sweet as a dark chocolate rabbit and as fun as playing with a kitten after eating all of your Easter chocolate in one sitting and washing it down with a litre of red cordial. It's also one of the most original character-pieces I've seen this festival.

O'Doherty plays Claudia's innocence so well that it's almost too easy to forget that she's a character and it doesn't take long to start loving her flip charts and home made models. Many an audience member commented on the effort it took to make her props, but this would pale compared to the time it took to craft the script. Claudia may be naive, but O'Doherty has crafted a script full of surprises, ironies and unforgettable stories that gently reveal their complexities and leave you wanting more.

I think this show is gorgeous, but not all reviewers have agreed and I can see why some don't like it. It's a gentle character piece that forces your brain to join in the fun and fill in some of the blank spaces. If you know this isn't your kind of show, see something that is - or maybe take a risk and give it a go anyway.

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.

The 39 Steps

The 39 Steps

MTC

10 April 2008

The Playhouse, the Arts Centre

The MTC's production of The 39 Steps is satire mixed with slapstick and a dash of irony – all blended as one hilarious spoof.

This 39 Steps is an adaptation of the Alfred Hitchcock 1939 film, which was an adaptation of the 1914 John Buchan novel. Patrick Barlow’s stage version won the 2007 Oliver Award for Best New Comedy. The production was so good, that the MTC brought director Maria Aitken to Melbourne to direct our version. 

So how do you make the cinematic theatrical? Well, you must know your Hitchcock and every convention of spy thrillers and noir mysteries. Then you put them on a stage. Of course, this show is spoof, so it only takes an image, an effect or a hint to let the audience know what it is referencing. Strobes, fog and fine mime all contribute to this leg slapping evening.

The story is non-stop, expected coincidence and improbable escape. These images may seem cliché, but this was the genre that created those clichés, so they feel remarkably fresh. The 39 Steps works because it pays homage to Hitchcock. Without the context of the film, it would probably just be a lot of fun. Within its context, it’s hilarious. (As the MTC audience appear to be such anglophiles, no one will be left wondering what the joke is all about.)

Marcus Graham is a natural choice for Richard Hannay - suave, charming and able to play the straight clown to perfection. The more I see Graham in comic roles, the more I like him. He is ably joined by Helen Christinson as his femme fatales. She also proves that sexy, seductive and funny can be in the same package. Grant Piro and Tony Taylor play everyone else. They’re not quite as sexy as the other two, unless you think very funny is sexy. Clowning is an art that can be quite overwhelming on a stage. These two have an abundance of characters that could so easily steal every scene.  Instead, they generously share the laughs, as they aptly balance character and clown with plot and story.

If you are a Hitchcock fan, The 39 Steps is a must. You may find yourself rolling in the aisles as you look for his guest appearance and count the film references. If not, don’t worry, as it’s thoroughly enjoyable regardless. 

This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com