Review: The Horror Face

The Horror Face

MKA

23 June 2011

MKA Pop Up Theatre

to 9 July

www.mka.org.au

MKA co-founder Glyn Roberts needed to create a company that would champion his writing and let us see his magnificently warped view of the too-close-for-comfort future. The Horror Face has the best lion ever on a stage and play three of season one 2011 proves again that MKA are a shot of adrenalin into the heart of Melbourne's independent theatre.

To prepare for your drugs, you have to put on a disposable lab coat to enter the Pop Up Theatre, where the plastic walls make it feel like Dexter has prepared another kill room, and the only comfort is that at least one of us must survive to tell the tale... if the downstairs door isn't locked. Designer David Samuel is the morphine that takes away the pain of dull design.

And Robert's fearless writing is the amphetamines that force his audience to pay wide-eyed attention to his dystopian world where humans will connect if it's the last think they do. His language dances and trips with the likes of "Armageddon again" and his offstage images are more disturbingly hilarious than the ones on stage. It's more cohesive than his dark Christmas story This is set in the future and this time he's letting the characters lead the action, rather than relying on the surreal and shocking world.

With director Felix Ching Ching Ho balancing the uppers and downers with a tone that rolls from prophetic to confronting, Soren Jensen, Annie Last, Brendan McCallum and Matt Young grab their multiple roles by their delicate bits and ensure that there's only just enough time to draw a breath in between laughs. But in such small room, don't let the audience know how much you're loving this performance. When we glimpse the actor behind the character, their struggle and confusion becomes less powerful.

MKA's The Horror Face is selling out most nights, but if you book now you've got until the end of the week to join the MKA cheer squad. And you'll get to see a gay android and Andrew the lion puppet, who may well be my new favourite performer; Aslan sucks in comparison.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Review: Turns

Turns
Christine Dunstan Productions
29 July 2011
Playhouse, the Arts Centre
to 9 July
then to Qld and WA
www.turnstheshow.com.au

The chance to see legends Reg Livermore or Nancye Hayes is a good enough excuse to see anything, so having them both on stage  is more than enough reason to see Turns, especially as it is also written and directed by Reg.

I first saw Reg in one of the Betty Blokk Buster shows in the 1980s. I'm pretty sure this was my first taste of satirical and off-colour drag and, even if I really was too young to get most of it, it pretty much set my standard and my taste. For that, and for Barnum, he will always be one of my favourites. And the always-wonderful Nancye is a performer who loves and respects her audiences so much that she never has a moment on the stage when you're not completely with her.

Described as a music hall of the mind, Turns blends a nostalgic and loving look at vaudeville and "he's behind you" panto with a dark understanding of how our minds create new truths to deal with our realities.

Marjorie (Hayes) tells us how she was once the belle of the Sydney stage, but she now lives in a lonely North Sydney flat with her long-suffering son Alistair (Livermore) and dreams of having her coffin drawn by two dozen pantomine horses. Their tale is told through two monologues as each tell us their stories, as they see them.

Marjorie's language of non-stop malapropisms and puns is worthy of The Bard himself, whose spirit must be jealous that he wrote too early to use the likes of FJ Holden Uteruses and "as God is my wireless." And her complex and heart-breakingly demented mind is realised in Matthew Aberline's exquisite costumes that are full of humour and colour and confusion.

Gently guided by director Tom Healy, both performers show us the pain and frustrations of these unforgettable characters, and they temper the sadness with the type of humour that lets us cope with anything that life unfairly throws at us. If we can't laugh, what hope do we have?

Their story is beautiful and sad and so needs to be told, but its telling lacks the dramatic momentum so needed on a stage. By telling their stories separately, we miss the opportunities to see the tension and painful drama between them.  So much of what Alistair confesses to us was already clear from Marjorie's story, so there aren't enough of those heart-dropping moments of revelation.

Turns is an original, darkly funny and brave work that lets two of our greatest stars remind us why that are so great, but I'd so love to see it with a re-write that brings the two of them together so we could see more of the painful memories of the love that keeps them together.

This review originally appeared on AussieThearte.com

Review: The Joy of Text

The Joy of Text
MTC
15 June 2011
Fairfax Studio, the Arts Centre
to 23 July
www.mtc.com.au

As if I'm not going to love a work that opens with someone looking for their Fowler's*, literally reminds us that satire is meant to be funny and references the Electra story, the Demidenko debacle and the disturbing semiotics of Prince Caspian. The text of Robert Reid's The Joy of Text is indeed a joy and I loved it all the more for its over-educated, middle-class (sorry Rob) literary references and its grammar pedantness.

It's also a disturbing reflection on the contextualisation of sexual consent. In a society where grown and wealthy men are deemed powerless against teenage girls and our informed media would rather a story about a vindictive slut than a clear explanation of statutory rape, the sexual consent of children (who are not small adults) is still something we need to discuss. And Reid may be the only person who could have me laughing about it.

Danny (James Bell) is a too-smart-for-his-own-good student who is willing to confront his teachers (Louise Siversen and Peter Houghton), especially when he's asked to read a controversial book that he suspects is written by Ami (Helen Christinson), the cute young literature teacher who has indicated that she appreciates his brain.

Aidan Fennessy is one of the best comedy directors in our town, but focusing on the easy giggles in Joy takes away from its strength.  It is a piece founded on humour, but the grammar wit, Helen Garner references and delightfully perfect sentences are the grace notes and the breathing space to the dark and confronting humour that drives it. By embracing the blackness of the humour, Siversen's performance is the highlight of the evening and comes closest to the dangerous tone that defines all of Reid's work.

Reid is asking us to laugh at the possible rape of two school children. This is an issue of distorted power and status, but the status and power relationships are missing on the stage.  Students and teachers don't interact like mates, neither do principals and their staff.  So, even though it's fun to watch Houghton's very funny buffounish principal, it undermines the intent of the work by creating a comfortable buffer between us and the content.  By playing the easy laughs, we're never concerned for Danny's or Ami's well being, because the damage and the stakes are minimised.

No matter what, it's wonderful to see the work of a local independent playwright on a mainstream stage. The co-founder of theatre in decay has written more plays than many people have seen.  I first saw Rob perform one of his works many years ago in an outside courtyard in Canberra. A handful of people shared the experience and all knew that this was someone whose theatre demands attention.

The Joy of Text is just as angry as his decay work, but it's less personal, less ranty, far funnier and his characters are less damaged. This personal distance is vital to create work that broad commercial audiences are going to love, but I'd love to see his next work be a bit more dangerous and to come a bit more from the heart.

* dictionary of Modern English Usage

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Review: The Burlesque Hour LOVES Melbourne

The Burlesque Hour LOVES Melbourne

Finucane & Smith

18 June 2011

45downstairs

to 14 August

From obscure subversive cabaret (loved by people like me) to Melbourne cultural institution (loved by people who go to the MTC), what hasn't been said about the insane gorgeousness of Finucane & Smith's The Burlesque Hour?

For all its new found, middle class popularity, TBH retains its subversive soul and it's still impossible not to leave feeling positive and excited about your age, your body and your overall sexiness, even if you sometimes keep it hidden.

The Burlesque Hour LOVES Melbourne nearly as much as Melbourne loves TBH.  It's missing some of the darker elements from past shows (and Azaria and Yumi), but this perfumed pink paper love letter is still written in fresh blood and addressed to the city where this now world famous show started.

This year Moira brings her favourite exquisite grotesque pieces and a new purple number that will leave you wet in all the right places. There's the wonderfully wild (and pro-hair) Sosina Wogayehu, Holly Durant and Harriet Ritchie, and Maude Davey continues to elegantly re-define rock. If you don't know, the correct response is "No way, get fucked, fuck off"

And as a special sparklie gift, there are a collection of weekly OMFG Melbourne special guest legends, including some of my absolute favourites like Die Rotten Punkte (how will Otto cope?), theatre goddess  Pamela Rabe, rock goddess Deborah Conway (please sing "Man Overboard") and Meow Meow, the one burlesque artist who could make Moira seem repressed.

But for the opening weekend, there was Rhonda Burchmore. Now, I would usually consider Rhonda to be the antithesis of everything TBH celebrates about performance, women and sexuality. But, dammit, she made me laugh and I enjoyed the story about Micky Rooney's cock and her troubles with her fanny bird. But how awesome would it have been to see her drop the Rhonda mask and show us something completely unexpected and real. Next time Rhonda...

It's no secret that I think Finucane & Smith are one of the best things in this amazing world ofMelbourne theatre. Their work celebrates all who dare to refuses to conform, as it defies any attempt of genre definition and questions our perceptions and expectations of theatre and burlesque and life.

If you haven't seen it, there is no excuse good enough to miss it again.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Review: The Subconscious Cometh

The Subconscious Cometh

Baggage Productions

21 June 2011

Trades Hall

to 25 June
www.baggageproductions.com

One of my biggest fears is finding out what my subconscious is really up to and Baggage Productions have a whole night of short plays and monologues that bring these fears (and some bonus phobias) to gorgeous, thought-provoking life.

Bridgette Burton and Christina Costigan formed Baggage in 2000 because they were sick of there not being enough decent roles for women. This is still one of the most ridiculous ironies about thearte and performance and thank the goddesses that companies like this address it.

The Subconscious Cometh is a collaborative piece with works by Costigan and Burton, directed by Burton, Steve Gome, Wayne Pearn and Shannon Woollard, and performed by Costigan, Tiffany Davis, James Deeth, Kelly Nash and Dan Walls. Working together, this talented team have created a themed and cohesive night that is more than few steps above other recent short play seasons.    

Highlights include Spirit Guy (Burton, Woollard, Deeth and Walls) that asks if watching your ex with their new naked beau is considered stalking if you're a ghost, The Changeling monologue (Costigan, Pearn, Walls) that delicately looks at the impact of mental illness on the father of a suffer, the highly original scene changes and a hilariously unforgettable ending.

Neither writer is afraid to tackle subjects that are close to them and, combined with their terrific understanding of drama and structure, they create a warm and close empathy with their audience. And they love the characters they create. What might take their writing to a new level is to hold onto that love, but to let even worse things happen to their characters. Up the stakes even higher to make your audience fear for the well being and safety of the people they too now love and the resolutions will be even stronger.

Independent theatre like this is created from the hearts of the people making it. It's not perfect, but it's this kind of experimentation and the opportunity for creators to get themselves and their work seen by an audience that creates artists that we want to see again and again.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Review: Negative Energy Inc

Negative Energy Inc

Ash Flanders

19 June 2011

Hares & Hyenas Cafe Bookshop

LAST SHOW this Sunday,  26 June

Ash Flanders asked me not to review his first solo show because it was his first solo show, but he should know by now that you don't always get what you ask for in this "industry".

Why, why, why, why, why hasn't anyone useful discovered Ash?

I'm not asking this, he is. (I've already discovered him and written things about him that his mum likes to read.)

Sisters Grimm co-founder and star of Dracula's theatre restaurant (don't scoff; there are very few performers with full time jobs that let them wear that much make up and prance about in front of a full house every night), has struggled with forging a career in an industry that has a 1% chance of success, so he may as well share his pain with the people who want him to succeed.

Ash knows how important it is to bring the world down with him and Negative Energy Inc takes us from his teenage years at Christian Camp on a bed with a vinyl mattress, to the taste of stardom and rampant free sex of the Edinburgh Fringe, to the discovery that his publicity photo is simply too gay.

Melding stand up with show tune, this is one of the first times we've been allowed glimpses of the real  Ash (OK, apart from Connie in Cell Block Booty) and this honesty brings a whole new dimension to his performance. This show will get even better when he really lets the mask come off. The stand ups that we come back to again and again are the ones who show us their hearts, and this is bloody hard stuff for people who want a career pretending to be other people.

In the meantime, Ash was born to be the horsewoman from Judge Judy and is so fucking funny that you may be inspired to see him at Drac's. And you get to wander around the super-gorgeous Hares and Hyenas bookshop, look at books that you don't find in Readings and discuss how many pics you think have been photoshopped. And the lovely Dave Barclay adds some alternative eye candy. 

There's one performance left. I know comparing performers is naff, but if you love the likes of Taylor Mac, John Cameron Mitchell and iOTA, you'll love Ash Flanders. Don't regret missing a dose of this wonderful negativity.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Review: Much Ado About Nothing

Much Ado About Nothing
Bell Shakespeare 
10 June 2011
Playhouse, the Arts Centre
to 25 June
bellshakespeare.com.au

Ring the bells and make much ado about this Much Ado because nothing is better than a pun-filled night of cruel deeds, fake death and unrequited lust.

Big Willy loved a double meaning and if he'd been in London in the 1960s, I'm sure he would have moonlighted as a Carry On writer. If you've ever thought that the old Bill is a bit stuffy, Bell Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing will set you straight, and leave you suitably bent.

Much Ado is one of the comedies. It's the one where the reluctant lovers Benedick (Toby Schmitz) and Betrice (Blazey Best) are duped into fancying the hell out of each other, as schmaltzy lovers Claudio (Sean Hawkins) and Hero (Alexandra Fisher) nearly break up when a really mean deception goes to plan. It's about ladies sighing no more because men are deceivers ever and reminds us that a hey nonny nonny will always feel better than a sulk.

The cast mix of experienced and less experienced actors creates a fresh and authentic balance of endless energy that will ensure that anyone not in love with Shakespeare will be by the final applause.

Schmitz lets the audience be Bendick's best friend with soliloquies that make you want to share a flagon of cider with him and talk all night, and he's matched by Best's firey and compassionate Beatrice.  Bell Shakespeare favourites Arky Michael and Robert Alexander delight every moment they are on stage, while Sean O'Shea's Don John re-defines the nasty jealous uncle and Max Gilles's malaproping Dogberry shows just how much life is left in the old dog and ensures that auspicious persons will always suspect his age and place.

Then there's Stephen Curtis's design, which is part-Fellini, part-Brunswick-end-of-Lygon-Street and leaves you wanting to hug your lover from the back of a Vespa before an endless night of home made antipasto, Chianti and exhausting passion. Or at least re-embrace high-waisted pants, hair curlers and swirly net petticoats.

Directed by John Bell, this Much Ado About Nothing is an utter joy that brings every joke and every dilemma and tear out of this complex and very funny story. It left me wanting more and I think that I want "Press me to death with wit" on my gravestone.


This review originally appeared on AussieThearte.com

PS: If you're in London, David Tennant and Catherine Tate are up to  Much Ado

Review: Princess Dramas

Princess Dramas
Red Stitch Actors Thearte

11 June 2011

Red Stitch

to 2 July

www.redstitch.net

According to the director's notes, "Plot, character and any other category we might expect from plays that celebrate the uncontested integrity of a subject based on free will, are long gone."  So, if you like plays without plot, character and any other category we might expect from plays, then get to Red Stitch for Princess Dramas.  But don't you dare scoff if others use their free will to disappear at interval because they crave conflict and drama and story.

German writer Elfriede Jelinek won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2004 for her "musical flow of voices and counter-voices in novels and plays that, with extraordinary linguistic zeal, reveal the absurdity of society's clichés and their subjugating power." (Thank you Wikipedia.) Her writing is complex and actively tries to disorient the listener with a seemingly unending barrage. I heard some fascinating observations, but it's such a wall of noise.

Peter Mumford's design and Olga Makeeva's costumes add welcome distraction and humour; when isn't a giant stuffed vagina funny? Andre Bastian's direction understands the work like no watcher ever can and actively injects lightness and absurdity to the idea-heavy text.  It's a hoot to see Red Stitch favourites Dion Mills as Snow White and Andrea Swifte as Sleeping Beauty, and guest actor Melodie Reynolds performance as Jacqui O is memorable and as compelling as this work could ever be.

For all its admirable bits, including a thigh slapping funny ending, I have no idea who this show was speaking to. The first question any writer asks is "who is your audience?". The first feedback most writers get is the same. One of the reasons the MTC is full every night is because they know exactly who they are speaking to (I know it isn't me). I felt like this show wanted me to admire its smartness, rather than being something I'm meant to take into my heart and enjoy.

There are libraries full of astonishingly intelligent books that are never read, film festivals are programmed with super-clever films that are never seen, and there must be thousands of unread uber-smart-ass blogs.  Intelligent doesn't mean engaging or moving or interesting.

The third part of Princess Dramas has some jokes about women coming on their own. I hope they were masturbation jokes, but it was hard to tell. Regardless, I'm going with the theme. Masturbation is no doubt one of the great pleasures in life, but no matter how good it feels and how technically proficient the masturbator is, is it interesting to any one else? This is the kind of show that reminds me why some people don't like theatre and why some shows are called wank.

The review originally appeared on AussieThearte.com

Review: The Gift

The Gift
Melbourne Theatre Company
2 June 2011
Sumner Theatre
to 9 July 2011
www.mtc.com.au

We must thank playwrights who show just how hard it is to be wealthy, middle aged and white. It can't be easy, especially when nasty povo commy bloggers create sites like White Whine or Stuff White People Like. How dare they make fun of things they don't understand. It must be really horrible seeing satire on your iPad2. So it's wonderful that the MTC is there to assure their subscribers that it's OK; it really is OK to be better at spending than making money.

The Gift is another poor rich us story. Dammit, they have feelings too!

The design is so similar to last year's production of David Williamson's Let the Sunshine that I had to check that I hadn't been duped into another night with our national treasure. The characters weren't too different either, but the relief of Joanna Murray-Smith's fresh wit took away the fear.

Sadie and Ed are at a very expensive resort for their 25th anniversary gesture. Naturally, there are jokes about firing their personal butler and when will hotels learn that people don't like paying $9 for a box of mini-bar of Pringles. I find it so much easier to stay in cockroach-infested hostels just to avoid this kind of stress. Anyway, they meet Chloe and Martin, a hip young artists couple who won their getaway in a competition. Away from home, sculling posh wine and mojitos (really?) and clearly attracted to each other...

No swinging isn't middle class enough for them. They talk about the value of art (it's good) and take a boat trip.  And yes there's a literal storm to strengthen the metaphorical one. Actually the program blurb tells you everything that happens in Act 1 (why?), so Act 2 is about firing all those early foreshadowed empty wombs.

There's quite a moral dilemma presented, but not explored. In Act 1, the rich couple talk about watching other people and making up stories. The Gift feels like watching without being involved.  The observation is astute – we recognise these people – but don't know them enough to care what choices they make or feel any relevance to our lives (apart from the Pringles).

Richard Piper, Heather Bolton, Matt Dytynski and Elizabeth Debicki are all terrific performers and Murray-Smith's gorgeous wit shines, but I don't care what happens to these people. So if you see a post on White Whine saying, "My free theatre ticket didn't make me care as much as Masterchef does", you'll know who it's from.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Photo by Jeff Busby