Review: Strictly Ballroom

Strictly Ballroom
Global Creatures et al
17 January 2014
Her Majesty's Theatre
strictlyballroomthemusical.com

Strictly Ballroom began when NIDA student Baz Luhrmann led a student-devised piece in 1984. This production went on to play at the Czechoslovakian World Youth Drama Festival in 1986 and, with new designer Catherine Martin, was performed in Brisbane and Sydney in 1988 by the new Six Years Old company, directed by Luhrmann. This led to the film that opened in Cannes in 1992, won a pool room of prestigious film prizes and ran for over a year in Australian cinemas. The musical version opened in Sydney in 2014 and this time the critical acclaim was silent. So it was tightened up before it opened in Melbourne.

I saw the 1988 version in Sydney. I loved this small show and the story of Scott and Fran going against the rules of ballroom dancing to be their true selves. Made with heart and guts, it celebrated an authentic Australian suburban voice and told a story that, despite its inevitable ending, twisted and turned like the dancing it celebrated. It was also made with a budget that wouldn't buy the new seat covers of the musical.

The film took the heart and guts of the play, but let it be bigger and placed it firmly in Sydney so that the famous Coke billboard in Kings Cross is mostly known for being in Strictly Ballroom, and placed it so deeply in the hearts of Australians that it remains one of our most-loved films.

And it let Lurhmann and Martin go on to make more films that are very loved, and equally not loved.

The nostalgic passion for this little-film-that-did will sell tickets to the new stage version, which is, as much as it can be, the film on stage.

From the Coke sign to the dialogue and from the colour of the gowns to Scott's famous knee slide across the floor, this time carried on the shoulders of dancers, everything on the stage is recognisable and referential. Except there's more of it.

There's no new story or extended characters, but there's more music, incuding "Time After Time", from the film; "Perhaps, perhaps", made famous by Doris Day; and the Melbourne addition of a couple songs by satirical wonder Eddie Perfect. Unlike the cultural mish-mash of music that works in Lurhmann's films, on a musical stage, the lack of musical consistency distracts from the story. As characters stop to sing, the story stops and re-starts, losing tension and bringing it into the world of the original music. And that's before the new Baz lyrics; a rhyme is not a lyric. (If only Eddie had been brought in on day one.)

The apparent fear of not being the film also leaves little room for the performers (who are some of our best) to bring themselves to the characters and make them their own. A couple overcome this, but most have the consistent control that ensures that no one will notice when an understudy slips in, and most are copies of performances created over 20 years ago.

Being like the film, it's still set in the 1980s of wacky printed lycra and frizzy hair but it doesn't comment on the 80s or look at that time from today. The film story is known, so why not add something, twist it or tell a new story circa 2014? Scott and Fran running a dance studio that's stuck in the 80s and their own kids rebelling?

At its best, this lavish show celebrates the time and ballroom dancing. It's also at its best when it's satirising the time and the dance. But the tone jumps around so much that it's hard to know what we're meant to be feeling; laughing at them or laughing with them?

Where it can't help but shine is Catherine Martin's design. Glorious gaudy and made from enough sequins to cover Mount Kosciuszko, it celebrates the outrageousness of ballroom and turns the sparkle up so high that that any imperfections are lost in the glare.

But sparklier doesn't mean better. We don't have to look far – cough, Lion King re-opens in Melbourne very soon – to be reminded that a successful musical based on a film doesn't have to look anything like the film.

Strictly Ballroom has the kind of pedigree and talent and support that should let it be astonishing. It  should be the sort of show that re-defines Australian music theatre and runs for years. And there are moments, like the Spanish dance scene that closes Act 1 (after the Carmen re-write), where the show comes together and brings the audience into its world, but these moments of magic and heart also highlight how dull the rest of it is.

Sadly no amount of sparkle can cover dull. Let's hope that it keeps changing and is allowed to become the show it should be.

This was on AussieTheatre.com.

Guest Review: A Midsummer Night's Dream

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Opera Australia

Saturday 4 December 

The Arts Centre, State Theatre

to 18 December

www.ticketmaster.com.au

Review by Josephine Giles

Too long between drinks, I had almost given up hope that I would see an opera in this country that would demonstrate on all levels just how wonderful this artform can be. But every now and then a production comes along that reassures me that opera can be fantastic, magical and engaging, OA’s revival of Baz Luhrmann’s interpretation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream is so good it is almost impossible to imagine this opera being staged in any different way. 

First produced in 1993, and subsequently toured to the Edinburgh Festival to critical acclaim, this production has been revived a number of times in both Sydney and Melbourne. It is a testament to the power of the original vision, and the intelligent and informed revivals direction of Julie Edwardson, that the piece appears as fresh as new. The perfectly cast ensemble give no sense of recreating performances defined some 17 years ago – each of the singers inhabit their characters with confidence and imagination, imparting an infectious sense of enjoyment.

The success of this Dream owes much to the glorious design by Lurhmann’s creative partner Catherine Martin and Bill Marron. Transplanted in time and place to Indian 20s British Raj (a change one may think the Bard himself would be well pleased with), the stage is dominated by a three-tiered rotunda, set over a lily pond and overrun with vines from an encroaching jungle. The Athenians of Shakespeare’s play, embodying British upperclass properness, appear in Colonial style whites. Contrasting are the hot, vivid colours of the Indian inspired garb of the fairy world of Oberon and Tytania,  evoking a truly sensual fantasy land.

The middle level of the rotunda provides the stage for Orchestra Victoria, dressed for the occasion in military band uniforms, and conducted with sensitive precision here by Britten specialist Paul Kildea. Strategically placed monitors in the auditorium compensate for the lack of visual contact between the conductor and singers – made especially challenging by the complexity of Britten’s score – and an apron stage over the orchestra pit permits the singers to engage more immediately with the audience ( and overcome  the acoustic problems commonly associated with this theatre).

Special mention has to be made of the OA’s children’s chorus. As fairies and elves, they not only sing with beauty and precision, but dance and somersault around the stage demonstrating a level of stagecraft not always found in mature performers. Dressed in hues of red, pink and green, their presence adds both magic and joy to the proceedings. Children’s choruses often require a degree of forgiving compromise from an audience – that this isn’t needed at all is but one testament among many to the excellent direction of Edwardson, and the musical preparation by Anthony Hunt.

Time precludes me form mentioning all of the uniformly wonderful singers, except to say that all act with the same comfortable assurance with which they sing.  Special mentions go to Tobias Cole as the blue-torsoed dreadlocked Oberon, whose countertenor seems to have found a natural home in Britten’s music; Henry Choo (Lysander) and Dominica Matthews (Hermia), who too shine in this repertoire; and Conal Coad as an hilarious Bottom and Graeme McFarlane as a most light-footed Flute are scene stealers par-excellence. Actor Tyler Coppin, reprising the role he created in 1993, brings the whole night together as the mischievous Puck.

This most magical of Shakespeare’s plays has been deftly trimmed by composer Britten, and is complimented with an evocative score that grows on you as the night progresses. Baz Luhrmann’s creative talent completes the trifecta, making this a perfect opera. The show comes in at a bit over three hours, but I was engaged, even transfixed for all of that time. If you are afraid of, bored with, or new to opera, give it a go.  This could be the one that changes your mind. 

This review appears on AussieTheatre.com