Showing posts with label Guy Simon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guy Simon. Show all posts

15 May 2019

Review: Cloudstreet

Cloudstreet
Malthouse Theatre

11 May 2019
Merlyn Theatre
19 June
malthousetheatre.com.au


Cloudstreet. Malthouse. Photo by Pia Johnson

The 1991 novel Cloudstreet won WA writer Tim Winton his second of four Miles Franklin Awards. It's a book that's easy to find in op shops as it's studied at high school, has been a telly mini-series and is one of those books that needs to be seen in bookcases.

The 1988 Black Swan and Company B Belvoir stage adaption by Nick Enright and Justin Monjo brought a new generation to the story as it toured Australia and went to London.

Matt Lutton directs the new Malthouse production. He's from Perth and says how reading the book helped him "understand what it meant to be growing up on Perth". Now, he lives in Melbourne and this Cloudstreet is more about its far-reaching themes than a reflection on living in the most isolated capital city in the world.

In the early 1940s, circumstance, luck or God bring the Pickles and the Lamb families to share a sprawling house in suburban Perth: 1 Cloud Street. Each family have challenges, successes and tragedies – and the threat of a serial killer – over the 20 years it takes for their stories to become one. It can be seen all on one night or split into two.

The stage adaption naturally cuts and condenses the novel. The pig doesn’t make the cut, but the third person narration does and is given directly to the characters. Talking about themselves in the third person creates intimacy as the audience become confessor and are allowed to know more than we see. But Lutton's new production brings the story even further into now. The most powerful changes are the introduction of Noongar language – the house is on Noongar land – and the "Black Man" character has become a male and a female storyteller. This helps to honour the story of the women who once lived, and now haunt, the house and, supported by a racially diverse, makes the story less about the people who lived there in the mid-20th century.

Cloudstreet. Malthouse. Photo by Pia Johnson

This is supported by having a small cast playing multiple roles. The bigger picture is evident, but it doesn't help make the story clear. There are times when it's confusing as to who are Pickles, Lambs, storytellers or new characters. Even something as simple as a cast list and synopsis in the program would help.

The actors with one character are much stronger. Natasha Herbert and Bert LaBonte are Dolly and Sam Pickles. Alison Whyte and Greg Stone are Oriel and Lester Lamb. Each bring a compelling understanding of the characters and the added complexity of seeing them with an empathy that can be missed in the book. Herbert lets Dolly be loved far more than she ever allows her herself to be loved; Whyte shows how Oriel hides her broken soul; and LaBonte and Stone each find a different kind of acceptance, determination and lovability in Sam and Lester.

As the story moves into the latter years, it becomes that of Rose Pickles (Brenna Harding), Quick Lamb (Guy Simon) and ultimately Fish Lamb (Benjamin Oakes), the favourite child who nearly drowns and suffers brain damage. Harding also brings a complexity to Rose and lets her make decisions rather than face consequences; Simon captures Quicks constant guilt; and Oakes lets Fish always react with a mix of wonder and patient acceptance that one day he will go back to the water.

Cloudstreet. Malthouse. Photo by Pia Johnson

At first view, Zoe Atkison's design looks like it's embodied the themes and motifs of the story with dark waves and hints of ghosts on its three sides. The stage floor of old thick floorboards and hidden walls that slide in and out, like the lift doors on Star Trek, hint at the old house and its many rooms. But as the rooms are indistinguishable, the design doesn't capture the house as the titular character that wants the families gone as much as it wants them to stay.

While there are some mighty powerful moments with complete black outs and a flooding stage, the story often feels too literal. Its magical realism of rowing through fields, swimming through stars, and Quick Lamb glowing is told far more than is seen. This ultimately makes it feel like a family-saga-cum-soap-opera, which seems to flow against the bigger Dreaming story that’s also being told.

This Cloudstreet isn’t the same as the book, the mini-series or of the first famous production. Its version is very much one seen through a contemporary point of view. This is its strength and part of the reason it doesn’t resonate as strongly as it could. None of which should will stop Cloudstreet lovers from seeing and loving it.

And if you don’t know what the fuss is about, grab a copy from an op shop for a couple of gold coins. For what it's worth, I like the book.

27 January 2018

Review: Strangers in Between

Strangers in Between
Cameron Lukey and Don't Be Down Productions
in association with fortyfivedownstairs and the Seymour Centre
25 January 2018
fortyfivedownstairs
to 11 February
fortyfivedownstairs.com

Seymour Centre season 14 February to 2 March
seymourcentre.com

Strangers in Between. Wil King and Simon Burke. Photo by Sarah Walker

2005 is already so long ago that there's a generation who have no idea how we communicated – let alone met people and dated; let alone that we used to date – without smart phones.

Strangers in Between by Tommy Murphy (Holding the Man) won the 2006 NSW Premier’s Literary Award for Best Play. Set in 2005 in Kings Cross in Sydney, it's connected to time and place and could almost feel historic, but director Daniel Lammin uses the nostalgia to support the script and characters and lets its story feel a part of now.

Teenager Shane (Wil King) has fled up the Hume Highway from small city Goulburn to Kings Cross in Sydney. He's working in a bottle shop and as terrified of area's reputation of violence and fear as he is desperate for any friendship, guidance and connection. In 2005, Grindr is still at least four years away and unimaginable, mobile phones and home computers are expensive, and Australia Post is  reliable. The only way to meet people is in real life and Shane awkwardly befriends slightly-older Will (Guy Simon; who also doubles as Shane's brother) and a-bit-more-older Peter (Simon Burke) when they come into the bottle shop.

A lot of the humour comes from remembering the time – and often relies on knowing Kings Cross and small town Australia – and from Shane's naive and earnest attitude to sex, cheap food and laundromats. The many laughs about Shane's ignorance are grounded in empathy and the tone is balanced by ensuring that, despite the inevitable dark revelations, assumptions about age and power are also gently confronted.

The shiny-streamer backdrop design places it in the Cross but doesn't always support the tone. For a work that's set in homes and so about the personal, the design felt like it was hinting that it was going to move into the the club and tourist side of the suburb, which locals avoid. But the final image is perfect.

Lammin's comparison to Armistead Maupin's "logical family" is clear and there's room for more ambiguity, but sometimes celebration is the best choice.

19 July 2014

Last chance: The Myth Project: Twin

NEON
The Myth Project: Twin
Arthur
11 July 2014
The Lawler
to 20 July
mtc.com.au

Photo by Sebastian Bourges

NEON's Twin is the first of Arthur's The Myth Project series that's about exploring the Australian psyche and the myths it creates. Exploding in a shiny-streamer world that moves from a cabaret-noir-cum-disco underworld to a bleak country pub that hides a secret, it's the second show opening this week where an established company is working with high school students.

Arthur is director Paige Rattray and producer Belinda Kelly. They work with a group of collaborators and for this project the group includes 32 year 11 and 12 students from Launceston College in Tasmania. Unlike Red Stitch's current collaboration with students from St Michael's Grammar school, The Flock and the Nest, the teenagers aren't the focus of the story. Instead they are a chorus who watch and mock and are welcome every time they are on the stage. And they're terrific. It's easy to stand out on a stage; it's a skill to blend with 31 performers and still be yourself.

The overall story is hard to follow but each episode (by writers Amelia Evans, Duncan Graham and/or Dan Giovannoni) has a satisfying completeness and adds to the ongoing mystery. It starts with twin sisters, a cowboy and a pub, and continues years later at the adult twin's birthday party where the guests are strangers, singing is dangerous and no one knows who is really alive at the end. Does this family have any hope or is Hell a place where our past deeds come back and where everyone wears shiny blue dresses?

And if is Hell, then I'm joining the line to get in. Twin is creepy and mysterious, and while never letting the tension drop, it doesn't lose its sense of fun or its heart; we may not really know what happens to the sisters, but we sure care and want them to be happy.

Part of the joy in watching is the continual questioning of what happened and the displacement from where we thought we were, but it wouldn't work without a cast who are as shiny and spectacular as their teenage ensemble. From dream-haunting weird to sexy-as-all-go-get to innocence-with-a-gun, Julia Billington, Catherine Davies, Kevin Kiernan-Molloy, Rose Lockhart, Markus McKenzie, Kurt Phelan, Guy Simon and Netta Yaschin, with Stephanie Francis and Trinnay Hancock-Holmes as the young sisters, are at one with the picnic-at-hanging-rock-teen-disco-mystery-horror-movie tone and know how to know the truth without sharing the secrets.

This is theatre that wants to create a world that's always questioning the world it's created in. Without using tired icons or even hinting at the obvious, Twin shows an Australia that's disturbingly recognisable and perhaps a lot closer than we'd like to think.

And the next instalments of The Myth Project will be at  Red Stitch and at Theatre Works.

This was on AussieTheatre.com.