Review: Doku Rai

Doku Rai (You dead man, I don't believe you)

Arts House, Adelaide Festival, Darwin Festival, Stealth Agency and The Black Lung Theatre and Whaling Firm

29 August 2012

Arts House, Meat Market 

to 2 September

artshouse.com.au

Melbourne's Black Lung Theatre and Whaling Firm went to a remote Timor Leste island, where they spent a few weeks in an abandoned colonial hotel (dodgy power and no running water) with a band called Galaxy and a performance company called Liurai Fo’er. The result is a roller-coaster rush of storytelling that clashes cultures, rocks 'til it bleeds, refuses to die and introduces a superstar rooster.

Doku Rai starts with the story of a brother placing a doku (death curse) on his older brother. But curses are mighty powerful things and years later, the brother returns and cannot die, despite being violently killed many times. Inspired by Timorese folklore and driven by the violence that's dominated too much of our nearest neighbour's history, it demands our attention and confronts with its pain, until the white hipster theatre director steps in.

Literally.

With a meta-twist of meta-absurdity, Doku Rai intertwines the tale of the stuff-white-people-like theatre dudes who go to Timor to make a play with a local company. But there's no time for earnest self-reflection,  as the companies show how they each found their theatre-making soul mates but saw that their life experiences that are so far apart that the common ground has to be explosive.

With Timorese rock that makes you want to leap off your seat, a drop-dead design that takes us into that abandoned hotel and the story's inner world, and film by Amiel Courtin-Wilson (who made Bastardy, the wonderful film about Uncle Jack Charles) that takes us into the island and its secrets, Doku Rai is angry and joyful, loud and intimate, confronting and welcoming – and all the more glorious for its contradictions.

It was already sold out early in the week, but it's worth chancing a ticket as this is theatre so authentic and original that it should be compulsory.

Avast

Avast
Malthouse Theatre and Black Lung Theatre
15 Novemebr 2008
Tower Theatre, CUB Malthouse

I’m not sure if Black Lung’s Avast is the beginnings of pure brilliance or utter crap.

Malthouse Theatre let notorious independent company Black Lung loose in the Tower Theatre, bolted the doors firmly, and left them to see what would happen.

The Tower has been transformed into a death-themed kitsch hovel, where mounted animal skulls complement the crucifixes, and an atrocious velvet matador carpet seems perfect in the inbred atmosphere.

Avast opens as dense fog ascends and a large-cocked corpse breaks out of his coffin, shoots his widow and proceeds to watch his two sons discuss their existence. One son wears black jocks, a small gun and is covered with crucifix tattoos, while the other sports a long, well-worn leather coat and spends his time in a washing machine. They’re by no means derivative.

Black Lung don’t want to create a nice night at theatr". They like to shock and see just how far they can take their subject matter. After such a strong opening and following their Deliverance-meets-Neighbours Short and Sweet play, I was ready for something dark, slightly painful and hilarious. There were moments that got there, but overall, it felt a bit flat. Sure, everything supported the premise that “As a dominant form of communication, theatre has become absurd”, but sometimes the absurdity seemed to be there because it was fun for the cast and it didn’t resonate beyond their mates in the audience.

Nonetheless, my favourite moment was the ridiculous, unexpected, but oh-so-welcome appearance of the bi-polar bear from the recent Malthouse production of Kitten. I don’t think there was any deep or metaphorical reason for the bear’s cameo. In fact, I suspect he just wandered into the Tower and the Black Lungers offered him a large blue-flavoured slushy if he’d join the cast. I also think the bear should just hang out at random shows and wander on whenever the audience seem a bit bored.

There’s room for Avast to go to a deeper, darker, more violent and more shocking level, which I think would give it the kick-in-the-guts impact it seems to be striving for.  Avast II – The Welshman Cometh is also running, so perhaps they need to be seen together to get the full picture.

This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com

The Pegasus Story and DEBRIS

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2006
The Pegasus Story
DEBRIS
Arts Projects Australia
Ride On Theatre and Black Lung Theatre
7 October 2006
Festival Hub, Lithuanian Club
High St

Picking the right double bill is an important part of the Fringe. This was a good night. I chose this double because they had both had successful productions interstate. Debris was acclaimed in Sydney and The Pegasus Story sold out at the Adelaide Fringe. Both have benefited from their “out of town” runs with tight, well-rehearsed shows. They are very different types of theatre, but both explore the use of monologue to tell their stories.

The Pegasus Story is thoroughly engaging and proves how truth is sometimes far more fascinating than fiction.

Mark De Ionno isn’t a trained actor; he’s just a guy telling us his story. He suffered a psychotic episode in mid 2000. The Pegasus Story is a very revealing and personal insight into Mark’s manic depression. Knowing he came though safely, we can sit back and enjoy the journey from northern Australian desert to Adelaide’s seediest street.

Mark’s story works, because it is not a performance. He easily evokes the empathy and compassion needed to draw the audience into his life. Working with director Daisy Brown has enhanced the story telling by using simple elements of theatre. The props, costumes, slides and perfect live music support the story, never compromising Mark’s affable personality or honest approach.

The strength of this work lies in its truth and I fully believe in moulding facts to tell a greater truth. An opening and reoccurring joke is that his initials are MAD, but he is not credited as Mark Anthony De’Ionno. Another good joke is set up with Mark working as an Indigenously sensitive tour guide, but he refers to Uluru as Ayers Rock. These are tiny, almost irrelevant criticisms, but if they cause the audience to doubt Mark, the veracity of the rest of his story is also doubted.

Debris has a very different creative team. All are recent NIDA graduates and this production is a testament to the outstanding quality of actor, director and designer emerging from the school. The text is also based on a style of monologue, but uses theatrical technique to tell its story.

The design, by the company, arrests you the moment you enter the space. It is so successful that I was initially genuinely horrified and felt very uncomfortable being there - until I realised just how brilliant the design concept was. (However, the risk and safety elements of the design really do need more consideration.) Ailsa Paterson’s costumes also come from a clear understanding of the text and reflect every nuance of the themes and characters.

Under the direction of Tanya Goldberg, this is intelligent theatre that engages your brain and your senses. Bojana Novakovic and Thomas Campbell give two of the best performances I’ve seen this Fringe. But does Debris tell a good story?

Before I could write about this show I had to do some serious googling to understand it. The need to research indicates that there is something not quite right with the story telling. Once I realised there was a common criticism in other Debris productions, I stopped analysing the acting and direction and looked at the text.

Debris is Dennis Kelly’s debut work, first presented in the UK in 2003. This is dark, absurd and extreme material. The language is stunning, but appears to be written for its own sake. I want to “read” this play. Unfortunately, the brilliance of the language often confuses and overwhelms the story telling. I was unsure if there were two, four or multiple characters talking to us and, despite faultless delivery, I found myself drifting away during the some of the monologues and losing the narrative thread.

Debris is astonishing theatre. I was shocked by the character’s stories, but it didn’t succeed in making me care about what happened to those children on the stage. By using minimal theatre and maintaining its authentic voice, The Pegasus Story is a more engaging experience because it tells a damn good story.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.