Review: Dance Nation

Dance Nation
Red Stitch Actors Theatre
17 March 2019
Red Stitch
to 14 April
redstitch.net

"Dance Nation". Red Stitch. Photo by Teresa Noble

You'll probably never hear a 10-, 11-, 12-, 13-year-old call themselves "prepubescent". It's a word so distant from the experience of being that age that it rarely escapes from text books. It's a time when you feel like a child and look like an adult or feel like an adult and look like a child. And get treated in ways that are embarrassing, inappropriate or ick either way. Dance Nation is about girls in this in-between age, as seen through the memories of women in their 20s to 60s.

USA playwright and actor Clare Barron had her first play produced in 2013 and has since won some significant awards. Dance Nation is her seventh work and this Red Stitch production is its Australian premiere.

It's set in a local USA dance school that's desperate to get to nationals (finals). Their dance teacher (Brett Cousins) knows that their sailor routine isn't up to scratch, so he's developing a work for his six-girl- one-boy troupe about Gandhi. Oh, yes, it's as ridiculous a dance as it sounds, and is made even more wonderful with Holly Durant's choreography, which solves the problem of the tiny stage, and Adrienne Chisholm's glitz-on-a-pocket-money budget gold design and ballet-mom costumes.

All the pre-teens are played by adults (Caroline Lee, Zoe Boesen, Casey Filips, Hannah Fredericksen, Natalie Samsu, Tario Manvondo, Georgina Naidu and Shayne Francis, who also plays all the moms) and all bring the experience of knowing that the adult life you imagine at 12 isn't the life you live. None of which makes the confusion of personal competition contradicting personal friendship less confusing. Or makes the realisation that your body's changing in ways that will keep you on stages or get you off stages, and that your choice may be irrelevant. Or that you will be sexualised or not sexualised no matter what. And that doesn't stop once you're a teenager, adult, older adult or older-still adult.

Maude Davey's direction has the style of a daggy suburban dance competition with a core of sophistication and experience that's inspired by the emerging power girls find at that age. This is power that girls are often told to suppress, but we'd all rather learn the routine that lets all women hold onto that power and ignore anyone who says it's wrong.

Review: Minnie and Liraz

Minnie and Liraz
Melbourne Theatre Company
22 May 2017
Fairfax Studio, Arts Centre Melbourne
to 24 June
mtc.com.au

Minnie & Liraz. Virginia Gay, Rhys McConnochie, Nancye Hayes. Photo by Jeff Busby

One of the many things I love about Lally Katz's writing is that it really doesn't matter when a new show doesn't quite hit the mark. Often new writing needs to get on a stage and be seen before it really finds what it's meant to be and Minnie and Liraz, MTC, needs some time on (and off) the stage to find its stride.

The 90-something Cohens, Minnie (Nancye Hayes) and Morris (Rhys McConnochie), have been married for 70ish years and are living in an expensive, bland and peach-coloured retirement home in Caulfield (that doesn't feel like Caulfield). When Minnie's bridge partner dies, Liraz (Sue Jones) is  determined to take her place. The Cohens don't like aggressively loud Liraz, but she does have a single 36-year-old grandson (Peter Paltos) who might be perfect for their single 38-year-old granddaughter (Virginia Gay) – grandchildren would be worth the price of Liraz in the family. And for a lot of the night, the story plays out how it's expected to – but this is a Lally Katz play, so it's easy to reject the peach-coloured view of the world before getting too comfortable.

Katz writes from her life and the Cohens are based on her own grandparents and, perhaps, her own experience of finding someone who's your-kind-of-awesome in your late 30s. At her best, Katz's characters are created from such a place of love and understanding that it's impossible to see them as fiction.

Minnie and Liraz is at its most delightful when it explores character. With loving and detailed performances and direction (Anne-Louise Sarks) that focus on character, the love for these people  drive it far more than its story.

However, as the romance trajectory and the death of at least one oldies is inevitable, the plot and climax feel forced – no matter how funny – and there's a lot of awkward exposition that bring us back to watching the construct of the play rather than being in the world with these people. Much of the exposition is through Norma (Georgina Naidu). She's the staff member who knows her residents too well but always feels like the outsider or a convenience, like her running a memoir class that lets Morris tells the story that  tells everything about him but doesn't sit in the narrative.

Minnie and Liraz often feels as peachy safe as its decor and design. But does anybody really like peach? Lets hope we get the chance to see the much darker and tighter work that it will become.

A Narrow Time For Angels

A Narrow Time For Angels
Lucy Freeman, Walking into Bars and The Store Room
7 July 2009
The Store Room

The Store Room has been presenting some of our most innovative and original independent theatre for ten years and opens its five-show 2009 season with A Narrow Time For Angels by Melbourne playwright Cerise De Gelder.

Apart from having one of the best titles ever, De Gelder’s script presents unexpected characters, creates comedy with situation and plot and sprinkles the absurdity with plenty of jokes. Structurally there are some questionable flashbacks and awkward exposition, but it’s pacy and funny enough to overcome any minor issues that may disappear in any re-writes.

However, the humour isn’t quite working on the stage yet. Lucy Freeman’s direction brings too much drama and reality into the ridiculous world. Maggie breaks into the morgue so she can find her dead ex-girlfriend’s body, but is interrupted by a ghost and a cute forensic mortician, and proceeds to tell a rambling tale of gambling, revenge, politicians and questions of fidelity when your ex-hooker girlfriend knows you need a lot of money quickly. There’s no room for soul searching and understanding; the success of this script depends on a non-stop build of joke and farcical plot. When the pace drops for the serious moments of character revelation, it gives the audience too much space and time to wonder if it’s all meant to be serious. If the comedy consistently leads everything, the empathy, understanding and the heartbreak will come much more effectively through laughter.

Marcella Russo, Hayley Butcher and Georgina Naidu are ideally cast, but each bring a different type of comedy to the stage. Naidu brings a clownish caricature to her multiple roles (we laugh at the performance), Russo lets Maggie see only the drama (we laugh at the situation) and Butcher lets Sam’s internal conflict make her choices (we laugh at the character). Each performance is equally as funny, but the different styles don’t always on the stage.

The joy of theatre is that every performance is different and A Narrow Time For Angels will settle and change as the season continues. Under the artistic direction of Todd Macdonald, The Store Room has presented the first performances of some the most remarkable scripts created in Melbourne and, as works need that first production to iron out the creases, it’s always worth a trip to North Fitzroy to see what’s being uncovered.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.