Runt
Dee/Cornelius/Wilks
2 March 2021
fortyfivedownstairs
to 7 March
 |
| Nicci Wilks 'Runt' Photo by Pier Carthew |
This is a something special.
Mostly Melbourne theatre reviews
Showing posts with label Kelly Ryall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kelly Ryall. Show all posts
04 March 2021
04 September 2018
Review: Working with Children
Working with Children
Melbourne Theatre Company
Southbank Theatre, The Lawler
1 September 2018
To 29 September
mtc.com.au
My review is in Time Out.
Melbourne Theatre Company
Southbank Theatre, The Lawler
1 September 2018
To 29 September
mtc.com.au
 |
| Nicola Gunn. Working With Children. Photo by Sarah Walker |
28 April 2016
Review: Peddling
Peddling
MTC Education and Families program
22 April 2016
The Lawler
to 6 May
mtc.com.au
After its Melbourne season, Peddling is touring to regional Victoria in May. Part of the MTC Education and Families program, the script is on the 2016 VCE drama playlist and although aimed at school groups and students, it welcomes a broader audience.
A teenage Boy is living on the London streets and peddling toilet paper and sponges door-to-door under the guise of a young offenders program. It's written – and was originally performed in the UK and USA – by young UK playwright and actor Harry Melling. He's known for playing Dudley Dursley in the Harry Potter films; it shouldn't matter, but the distance between spoilt and loved Duddles and the Boy in Peddling is so vast that it's impossible not to compare
The monologue's exploration of poverty, loss and despair is compelling, more so than the writer's experiment with poetic form. His story is real, but his poetry feels forced.
But director Susie Dee has worked with musician Bec Matthews to make the self-conscious rhythm an asset. Matthews plays a live percussion soundtrack (with Kelly Ryall's sound) that creates tension and an emotional counterbalance when it's most needed. The music makes the text sound almost operatic, but never takes it out of the dismal streets where it's set.
Performing like Matthews is beating the rhythm of the Boy's heart is NIDA graduate Darcy Brown. Using every millimetre of Marg Horwell's cardboard skate ramp design, he brings a passion, honesty and physical intensity that makes the awkwardness of the text feel natural. He opens up beyond the words to let the subtext, and everything he hides from the world, create compassion, empathy, and fear when he's lost all hope.
This is exciting theatre being made for young people. It's gritty and real and shows that theatre is far more than text written by dead or old people.
The review was on AussieTheatre.com.au.
MTC Education and Families program
22 April 2016
The Lawler
to 6 May
mtc.com.au
 |
| Darcy Brown. Peddling. Photo by Jeff Busby |
After its Melbourne season, Peddling is touring to regional Victoria in May. Part of the MTC Education and Families program, the script is on the 2016 VCE drama playlist and although aimed at school groups and students, it welcomes a broader audience.
A teenage Boy is living on the London streets and peddling toilet paper and sponges door-to-door under the guise of a young offenders program. It's written – and was originally performed in the UK and USA – by young UK playwright and actor Harry Melling. He's known for playing Dudley Dursley in the Harry Potter films; it shouldn't matter, but the distance between spoilt and loved Duddles and the Boy in Peddling is so vast that it's impossible not to compare
The monologue's exploration of poverty, loss and despair is compelling, more so than the writer's experiment with poetic form. His story is real, but his poetry feels forced.
But director Susie Dee has worked with musician Bec Matthews to make the self-conscious rhythm an asset. Matthews plays a live percussion soundtrack (with Kelly Ryall's sound) that creates tension and an emotional counterbalance when it's most needed. The music makes the text sound almost operatic, but never takes it out of the dismal streets where it's set.
Performing like Matthews is beating the rhythm of the Boy's heart is NIDA graduate Darcy Brown. Using every millimetre of Marg Horwell's cardboard skate ramp design, he brings a passion, honesty and physical intensity that makes the awkwardness of the text feel natural. He opens up beyond the words to let the subtext, and everything he hides from the world, create compassion, empathy, and fear when he's lost all hope.
This is exciting theatre being made for young people. It's gritty and real and shows that theatre is far more than text written by dead or old people.
The review was on AussieTheatre.com.au.
26 August 2013
Review: Savages
Savages
fortyfivedownstairs
18 August 2013
fortyfivedownstairs
to 8 September
fortyfivedownstairs.com
At the end of Savages, I had to joke about hoping that no one sees it on a first date because it was too uncomfortable to talk about its content.
Walking into 45downstairs, a sea of paper streamers and an imposing slanting deck beg for sunshine and a party, but I felt a heaviness in my belly the moment that George, Runt, Rabbit and Craze boarded their trip-of-a-lifetime cruise because I thought of Dianne Brimble. I didn't know that Savages was based on this case.
In 2002, 42-year-old Brimble took her daughter on their trip of a lifetime where she died from a combination of alcohol and the drug GHB, known as the date rape drug. There were eight men from Adelaide involved. There have been trials, but none have served gaol time for the death of the fat, old "ugly dog". One judge said that their suffering since her death is as bad as time incarcerated. I wonder if it would be the same if it had been one of the pretty young things the men had playfully harassed who had ended up face down and naked in the tiny cabin.
I struggle to find sympathy or understanding for these men and the people who support them.
This is what's so remarkable about Patricia Cornelius's new play; she tells a similar story from the men's point view. She doesn't justify, judge or even confront their behaviour, but tries to understand how men behave in a group; how nice-enough guys follow the pack and behave in ways they might never consider if they were alone.
This four (Lyall Brooks, Luke Elliot, James O'Connell and Mark Tregonning) are 40ish and have been mates for years. Before boarding they abandon their usual baggage of the women, exes and kids so that for a few days they can be the men they are meant to be. On board, there's nothing unusual about how they compete, share and exaggerate and each might easily pick up if they didn't expect to attract the attention of the gorgeous young or fear being judged by their mates.
Despite their constant guard, Cornelius writes men who are funny and vulnerable and real. She reveals secrets that help to understand them and lend hope that each will be man enough to walk away from his pack or lead them somewhere safe. But this isn't a safe story. It's one that needs to be told and talked about, because these are men aren't freaks or monsters. It's this that's so confronting and unsettling; they are men just like men we all know.
Director Susie Dee ensures that this is theatre that exposes the bigger picture by telling the smaller story. She guides her cast – who are all exceptional in roles that, I hope, are difficult to inhabit – from playful pack to broken men who need to re-claim power. This supports Cornelius's language that's bloke-on-the-street vernacular, but is heightened with a rhythm and delightfully self-conscious rhyme that reminds that it's telling a more important story.
And it all takes place on a set (Marg Howell) that makes the space feel as huge and isolated as a ship so far from land that the unspoken rules of civilisation don't apply. And with Kelly Ryall's sound and Andy Turner's lighting, it's raised and steeply slanted deck creates a world that's always moments away from toppling into the waves.
Savages is theatre that bites and barks at the end of a chain that's about to break, but we don't know if the escaping animal will attack or roll over for a tummy rub. Its telling is theatrically beautiful as it holds firmly to the belief that we – men and women – have to get closer to this problem if we're ever going to understand it and change ourselves so that the packs and everyone near them can feel safe.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
fortyfivedownstairs
18 August 2013
fortyfivedownstairs
to 8 September
fortyfivedownstairs.com
At the end of Savages, I had to joke about hoping that no one sees it on a first date because it was too uncomfortable to talk about its content.
Walking into 45downstairs, a sea of paper streamers and an imposing slanting deck beg for sunshine and a party, but I felt a heaviness in my belly the moment that George, Runt, Rabbit and Craze boarded their trip-of-a-lifetime cruise because I thought of Dianne Brimble. I didn't know that Savages was based on this case.
In 2002, 42-year-old Brimble took her daughter on their trip of a lifetime where she died from a combination of alcohol and the drug GHB, known as the date rape drug. There were eight men from Adelaide involved. There have been trials, but none have served gaol time for the death of the fat, old "ugly dog". One judge said that their suffering since her death is as bad as time incarcerated. I wonder if it would be the same if it had been one of the pretty young things the men had playfully harassed who had ended up face down and naked in the tiny cabin.
I struggle to find sympathy or understanding for these men and the people who support them.
This is what's so remarkable about Patricia Cornelius's new play; she tells a similar story from the men's point view. She doesn't justify, judge or even confront their behaviour, but tries to understand how men behave in a group; how nice-enough guys follow the pack and behave in ways they might never consider if they were alone.
This four (Lyall Brooks, Luke Elliot, James O'Connell and Mark Tregonning) are 40ish and have been mates for years. Before boarding they abandon their usual baggage of the women, exes and kids so that for a few days they can be the men they are meant to be. On board, there's nothing unusual about how they compete, share and exaggerate and each might easily pick up if they didn't expect to attract the attention of the gorgeous young or fear being judged by their mates.
Despite their constant guard, Cornelius writes men who are funny and vulnerable and real. She reveals secrets that help to understand them and lend hope that each will be man enough to walk away from his pack or lead them somewhere safe. But this isn't a safe story. It's one that needs to be told and talked about, because these are men aren't freaks or monsters. It's this that's so confronting and unsettling; they are men just like men we all know.
Director Susie Dee ensures that this is theatre that exposes the bigger picture by telling the smaller story. She guides her cast – who are all exceptional in roles that, I hope, are difficult to inhabit – from playful pack to broken men who need to re-claim power. This supports Cornelius's language that's bloke-on-the-street vernacular, but is heightened with a rhythm and delightfully self-conscious rhyme that reminds that it's telling a more important story.
And it all takes place on a set (Marg Howell) that makes the space feel as huge and isolated as a ship so far from land that the unspoken rules of civilisation don't apply. And with Kelly Ryall's sound and Andy Turner's lighting, it's raised and steeply slanted deck creates a world that's always moments away from toppling into the waves.
Savages is theatre that bites and barks at the end of a chain that's about to break, but we don't know if the escaping animal will attack or roll over for a tummy rub. Its telling is theatrically beautiful as it holds firmly to the belief that we – men and women – have to get closer to this problem if we're ever going to understand it and change ourselves so that the packs and everyone near them can feel safe.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
10 September 2011
Review: Tenderness
Tenderness
Platform Youth Theatre and Footscray Community Arts Centre in association with A.R.A.B
4 September 2011
Footscray Community Arts Centre
to 11 September
I wish I were shocked by the anger, violence and cruelty of Tenderness. I'm horrified that any 12-year-old girl would shave her public hair and lose her virginity to a 16-year-old or that any teenager will punch until bones crunch, but it's too easy to understand why when the impact of words like "ugly" and "slut" never seems to change.
Platform Youth Theatre create striking theatre that is led by the perspectives and voices of young people, and finished and strengthened by the experience of professional artists.
Tenderness is two short plays, Ugly by Christos Tsiolkas (The Slap etc) and Slut by Patricia Cornelius (Do not go gentle... etc). Commissioned in 2007, both were researched with young people in the northern suburbs and have undergone creative development presentations that have left them with authentic raw and angry young voices, without the implied judgment or now-I-know-betterness of the older writers.
Working with a remarkable young cast (Matt Hickey, Stephanie Capiron, Rebecca Mazel, Peta Sergeant) and Kelly Ryall's emotive score, director Nadja Kostich (Bare Witness) uses a constant and dangerous physicality that lets the scripts confront, scream and punch to show the vulnerability of these young people who see the world as ugly and pretend that they don't care.
As adults we can re-embrace words, take part in Slut Walk and happily have as much wild, skanky and consenting sex as we like, but do we or should we apply the same openness to promiscuous teenagers? I wish that everyone who has ever referred to a child as a slut (especially "journalists" and talk-back radio scum) could be made to see this play every time they throw such powerful words about.
Tenderness is the first work in the new performance space at the wonderful Footscray Community Arts Centre, and if this stark reminder of how little tenderness some teenagers have in their lives is setting the standard for what we will see in this space, it hope it will soon be one of Melbourne's favourite spaces
This review originally appeared on AussieThearte.com
Platform Youth Theatre and Footscray Community Arts Centre in association with A.R.A.B
4 September 2011
Footscray Community Arts Centre
to 11 September
I wish I were shocked by the anger, violence and cruelty of Tenderness. I'm horrified that any 12-year-old girl would shave her public hair and lose her virginity to a 16-year-old or that any teenager will punch until bones crunch, but it's too easy to understand why when the impact of words like "ugly" and "slut" never seems to change.
Platform Youth Theatre create striking theatre that is led by the perspectives and voices of young people, and finished and strengthened by the experience of professional artists.
Tenderness is two short plays, Ugly by Christos Tsiolkas (The Slap etc) and Slut by Patricia Cornelius (Do not go gentle... etc). Commissioned in 2007, both were researched with young people in the northern suburbs and have undergone creative development presentations that have left them with authentic raw and angry young voices, without the implied judgment or now-I-know-betterness of the older writers.
Working with a remarkable young cast (Matt Hickey, Stephanie Capiron, Rebecca Mazel, Peta Sergeant) and Kelly Ryall's emotive score, director Nadja Kostich (Bare Witness) uses a constant and dangerous physicality that lets the scripts confront, scream and punch to show the vulnerability of these young people who see the world as ugly and pretend that they don't care.
As adults we can re-embrace words, take part in Slut Walk and happily have as much wild, skanky and consenting sex as we like, but do we or should we apply the same openness to promiscuous teenagers? I wish that everyone who has ever referred to a child as a slut (especially "journalists" and talk-back radio scum) could be made to see this play every time they throw such powerful words about.
Tenderness is the first work in the new performance space at the wonderful Footscray Community Arts Centre, and if this stark reminder of how little tenderness some teenagers have in their lives is setting the standard for what we will see in this space, it hope it will soon be one of Melbourne's favourite spaces
This review originally appeared on AussieThearte.com
27 July 2011
Review: Die Winterreise
Die Winterreise
Malthouse Theatre and Thinice
22 July 2011
Merlyn Thearte, CUB Malthouse
to 31 July 2011
I understand why Schubert purists are not enamored by Die Winterreise, but I'm a Schubert virgin, so was more than happy to go with the flow and the snow of this gorgeous meditation about the loneliness, guilt and sorrow of ageing.
Malthouse Theatre has again paired with Matthew Lutton's Thinice company from Perth (The Trial) and bring together a creative dream-team to re-imagine the song cycle that Franz Schubert wrote a year before he died at 31 (in 1828).
Die Winterreise was based around the poems of Wilhelm Müller, who also died in his early 30s (in 1827). He and Schubert achieved their fame posthumously. Director Lutton, who has yet to hit the 30s danger zone and already enjoying artistic recognition, says that when he first listened to the cycle "the music aroused recollections in me I found difficult and painful to articulate". His finished work is a glimpse into the thoughts of a young man sharing the angst of his fellow-artists.
An old man (George Shevtsov) cooks a meal alone in his one-roomed flat. Listening to a Shubert recording, he faces his memories and his younger selves as they appear as a singer (Paul Capsis), dancer (James O'Hara) and pianist (Alistair Spence).
It's at times obvious, but its artistry turns even the more clichéd moments into something genuine, painful and beautiful. Chrissie Parrot's choreography, Adam Gardnir's design and Paul Jackson's lighting bring the multiple layers of this work out of the music and onto the stage. With such visceral visuals, the emotional impact of Die Winterreise is there without the music.
But this is a piece of music and it's far from a Schubert chamber concert. Sound designer Kelly Ryall and arranger Spence have deconstructed the music so that isn't so much an arrangement of Die Winterreise, but a complex sampling that lets us hear the beauty of the music, but forces the focus onto the stage story rather than the story in the score.
As a piece for voice, cabaret-favourite Paul Capsis was a curious choice, and a wonderful one. With the help of music supervisor Iain Grandage, Capsis has let go of his show mask and by being more subtle in his performance, he's found a rounder and fuller voice that brings him so much closer to the hearts of his audience. I'm looking forward to seeing how he brings this into his cabaret shows.
The work ends with a monologue, written by Tom Holloway, which gives it an unexpected and defining narrative. Although it's beautifully sad, and Shevtsov's performance is heart breaking, it takes away the personal images and stories the audience were creating for themselves.
Die Winterreise is already dividing opinion, which is always a good reason to see something and decide for yourself.
This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com
Malthouse Theatre and Thinice
22 July 2011
Merlyn Thearte, CUB Malthouse
to 31 July 2011
I understand why Schubert purists are not enamored by Die Winterreise, but I'm a Schubert virgin, so was more than happy to go with the flow and the snow of this gorgeous meditation about the loneliness, guilt and sorrow of ageing.
Malthouse Theatre has again paired with Matthew Lutton's Thinice company from Perth (The Trial) and bring together a creative dream-team to re-imagine the song cycle that Franz Schubert wrote a year before he died at 31 (in 1828).
Die Winterreise was based around the poems of Wilhelm Müller, who also died in his early 30s (in 1827). He and Schubert achieved their fame posthumously. Director Lutton, who has yet to hit the 30s danger zone and already enjoying artistic recognition, says that when he first listened to the cycle "the music aroused recollections in me I found difficult and painful to articulate". His finished work is a glimpse into the thoughts of a young man sharing the angst of his fellow-artists.
An old man (George Shevtsov) cooks a meal alone in his one-roomed flat. Listening to a Shubert recording, he faces his memories and his younger selves as they appear as a singer (Paul Capsis), dancer (James O'Hara) and pianist (Alistair Spence).
It's at times obvious, but its artistry turns even the more clichéd moments into something genuine, painful and beautiful. Chrissie Parrot's choreography, Adam Gardnir's design and Paul Jackson's lighting bring the multiple layers of this work out of the music and onto the stage. With such visceral visuals, the emotional impact of Die Winterreise is there without the music.
But this is a piece of music and it's far from a Schubert chamber concert. Sound designer Kelly Ryall and arranger Spence have deconstructed the music so that isn't so much an arrangement of Die Winterreise, but a complex sampling that lets us hear the beauty of the music, but forces the focus onto the stage story rather than the story in the score.
As a piece for voice, cabaret-favourite Paul Capsis was a curious choice, and a wonderful one. With the help of music supervisor Iain Grandage, Capsis has let go of his show mask and by being more subtle in his performance, he's found a rounder and fuller voice that brings him so much closer to the hearts of his audience. I'm looking forward to seeing how he brings this into his cabaret shows.
The work ends with a monologue, written by Tom Holloway, which gives it an unexpected and defining narrative. Although it's beautifully sad, and Shevtsov's performance is heart breaking, it takes away the personal images and stories the audience were creating for themselves.
Die Winterreise is already dividing opinion, which is always a good reason to see something and decide for yourself.
This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com
21 February 2011
Review: Save For Crying
Save For Crying
La Mama
20 February 2011
La Mama Theatre
to 6 March
www.lamama.com.au
"Nice people make matter," says Luv in Save For Crying. Call La Mama NOW and book because it's beautiful and uncomfortable and funny, because it will be sold out and because it's a gut kick reminder about why theatre matters.
Angus Cerini wrote and directed Save for Crying. Cerini writes about people and lives that educated, inner-city, latte-drinking theatre goers (like me) are more comfortable avoiding, ignoring or buying a Big Issue from. He says he writes about bad stuff and what we do about it and tries to answer it in the "art stuff" he makes. Like the bad stuff in life, there isn't a clear answer and Cerini never gives ones. Instead he leaves his writing in a much stronger and more disturbing position where we question our own lives and the bad stuff we turn away from.
Walking into near darkness, it's easy to feel uneasy and also easy to distance ourselves from the action of these people in a cell who are not "one of us". The genius of this work is how is it creeps up on us until there's no comforting distance and it has become our story.
Luv (Peta Brady), and Alfie (Ben Grant) have their share of bad stuff. They know that five dollars isn't enough for fish and chips, but they can keep it from Ratspunk (LeRoy Parsons) who "everyday he does the not nice things". Each performer is so embodied in their character that there's no time to admire their acting; so much that their "real" selves final bow is a sharp jolt back to reality.
The artistic collaboration on this work has made an astonishing script an unforgettable show. As the actors create broken souls, the design (Marg Horwell) and lighting (Rachel Burke) hide and reveal action and characters in ways that the mere words of a script can never achieve and Kelly Ryall's astonishing music and sound design is almost inseparable from the words.
And Cerini's words are as beautiful as they are disturbing and terrifying. He writes with a language that plays with word order and strips away everything that isn't needed. In the wrong hands, it could feel forced, but it sounds natural in this world. It's a language that is pure emotion and makes us feel the pain, hope and humiliation that these people are trying so hard to block from their lives, without forcing us to justify, over-think or even completely understand what's going on.
Save For Crying is confronting theatre told with humanity and guts. Don't regret missing it.
This review appears on AussieTheatre.com
La Mama
20 February 2011
La Mama Theatre
to 6 March
www.lamama.com.au
"Nice people make matter," says Luv in Save For Crying. Call La Mama NOW and book because it's beautiful and uncomfortable and funny, because it will be sold out and because it's a gut kick reminder about why theatre matters.
Angus Cerini wrote and directed Save for Crying. Cerini writes about people and lives that educated, inner-city, latte-drinking theatre goers (like me) are more comfortable avoiding, ignoring or buying a Big Issue from. He says he writes about bad stuff and what we do about it and tries to answer it in the "art stuff" he makes. Like the bad stuff in life, there isn't a clear answer and Cerini never gives ones. Instead he leaves his writing in a much stronger and more disturbing position where we question our own lives and the bad stuff we turn away from.
Walking into near darkness, it's easy to feel uneasy and also easy to distance ourselves from the action of these people in a cell who are not "one of us". The genius of this work is how is it creeps up on us until there's no comforting distance and it has become our story.
Luv (Peta Brady), and Alfie (Ben Grant) have their share of bad stuff. They know that five dollars isn't enough for fish and chips, but they can keep it from Ratspunk (LeRoy Parsons) who "everyday he does the not nice things". Each performer is so embodied in their character that there's no time to admire their acting; so much that their "real" selves final bow is a sharp jolt back to reality.
The artistic collaboration on this work has made an astonishing script an unforgettable show. As the actors create broken souls, the design (Marg Horwell) and lighting (Rachel Burke) hide and reveal action and characters in ways that the mere words of a script can never achieve and Kelly Ryall's astonishing music and sound design is almost inseparable from the words.
And Cerini's words are as beautiful as they are disturbing and terrifying. He writes with a language that plays with word order and strips away everything that isn't needed. In the wrong hands, it could feel forced, but it sounds natural in this world. It's a language that is pure emotion and makes us feel the pain, hope and humiliation that these people are trying so hard to block from their lives, without forcing us to justify, over-think or even completely understand what's going on.
Save For Crying is confronting theatre told with humanity and guts. Don't regret missing it.
This review appears on AussieTheatre.com
24 August 2010
Review: The Trial
The Trial
Malthouse Theatre, Sydney Theatre Company and Thinice
18 August 2010
Merlyn Thearte, CUB Malthouse
to 4 September 2010
www.malthousetheatre.com.au
Director Mattew Lutton says, "The writings of Kafka create an addictive riddle of the soul that has no solution." I am shamed to admit that I haven't read Kafka, so I'm not sure if this stage version of The Trial is indeed Kafkaesque.
With a script by Louise Fox, sound by Kelly Ryall, lighting by Paul Jackson and wonderful actors like Ewen Leslie, Peter Houghton, John Gaden and Rita Kalnejais on the stage, there's a whole heap of consistent greatness to enjoy in this production. And Lutton's direction balances threat and comedy, while maintaining a sometimes manic pace that should be keeping us on the edges of our seat.
Kafta readers tell me that this pace pushed away the threat and tension that make his writing so addictive. I found that the pace kept me interested, but not engaged. Each scene was exactly what it should be, but as a whole the work felt fragmented, despite the terrific scene transitions with the best use of a revolve I've seen in a long time.
But for me, the ending was on the stage from the beginning and no one in this world had any belief or hope of a happy or even mediocre ending. Even if dreams are futile for Kafka, it is our hope and the possibility of a better life that makes every one of us get out of bed each day. We need a glimpse of hope to draw us through a story. From the moment Josef K wakes up to find thugs in his room, he knows where he's going to be in a year's time. There's no riddle because everyone knows the answer. If he doesn't have hope and no one he meets has hope, what hope does an audience have to care?
photo by Jeff Busby
This review appears on AussieTheatre.com
Malthouse Theatre, Sydney Theatre Company and Thinice
18 August 2010
Merlyn Thearte, CUB Malthouse
to 4 September 2010
www.malthousetheatre.com.au
Director Mattew Lutton says, "The writings of Kafka create an addictive riddle of the soul that has no solution." I am shamed to admit that I haven't read Kafka, so I'm not sure if this stage version of The Trial is indeed Kafkaesque.
With a script by Louise Fox, sound by Kelly Ryall, lighting by Paul Jackson and wonderful actors like Ewen Leslie, Peter Houghton, John Gaden and Rita Kalnejais on the stage, there's a whole heap of consistent greatness to enjoy in this production. And Lutton's direction balances threat and comedy, while maintaining a sometimes manic pace that should be keeping us on the edges of our seat.
Kafta readers tell me that this pace pushed away the threat and tension that make his writing so addictive. I found that the pace kept me interested, but not engaged. Each scene was exactly what it should be, but as a whole the work felt fragmented, despite the terrific scene transitions with the best use of a revolve I've seen in a long time.
But for me, the ending was on the stage from the beginning and no one in this world had any belief or hope of a happy or even mediocre ending. Even if dreams are futile for Kafka, it is our hope and the possibility of a better life that makes every one of us get out of bed each day. We need a glimpse of hope to draw us through a story. From the moment Josef K wakes up to find thugs in his room, he knows where he's going to be in a year's time. There's no riddle because everyone knows the answer. If he doesn't have hope and no one he meets has hope, what hope does an audience have to care?
photo by Jeff Busby
This review appears on AussieTheatre.com
06 July 2010
Review: Dead Man's Cell Phone
Dead Man's Cell Phone
Melbourne Theatre Company
1 July 2010
Sumner Theatre
to 7 August 2010
www.mtc.com.au
If you were at a cafe and a mobile phone kept ringing, would you answer it? Would you answer it if the man who owned it had died at the table? And do you believe that audience members who don't turn off their phones should be publicly shamed and forced to buy everyone drinks at interval?
The MTC have a phone-turn-off title with Dead Man's Cell Phone and in it sweet and mousy Jean (Lisa McCune) answers a dead man's phone, falls in love with the dead guy, meets his family, resolves his familial relationships and contributes to his human organ trafficking business.
American playwright Sarah Ruhl's script is a gorgeous foray into magic realism that delights in taking its audience to unexpected places and filled with wordy delights about the comfort of small casseroles and heaven being like an embossed wedding invitation.
Director Peter Evans takes full advantage of the script's humour but loses the joy of the magic realism. The extreme characters are never real enough to be natural and the fantasy elements are too real to let the fantasy fly, which leaves it in a no-folks land that is little more than the text.
Sound and lighting designers Kelly Ryall and Paul Jackson create a dreamy, magical atmosphere (Ryall's soundscape is especially gorgeous) and McCune brings enough vulnerability and genuine likability to Jean to let us love her enough to travel to her heaven, but too much of the production feels awkward once it's out of the comfort of cafes, posh houses and jokes about people who wear black.
This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.
Melbourne Theatre Company
1 July 2010
Sumner Theatre
to 7 August 2010
www.mtc.com.au
If you were at a cafe and a mobile phone kept ringing, would you answer it? Would you answer it if the man who owned it had died at the table? And do you believe that audience members who don't turn off their phones should be publicly shamed and forced to buy everyone drinks at interval?
The MTC have a phone-turn-off title with Dead Man's Cell Phone and in it sweet and mousy Jean (Lisa McCune) answers a dead man's phone, falls in love with the dead guy, meets his family, resolves his familial relationships and contributes to his human organ trafficking business.
American playwright Sarah Ruhl's script is a gorgeous foray into magic realism that delights in taking its audience to unexpected places and filled with wordy delights about the comfort of small casseroles and heaven being like an embossed wedding invitation.
Director Peter Evans takes full advantage of the script's humour but loses the joy of the magic realism. The extreme characters are never real enough to be natural and the fantasy elements are too real to let the fantasy fly, which leaves it in a no-folks land that is little more than the text.
Sound and lighting designers Kelly Ryall and Paul Jackson create a dreamy, magical atmosphere (Ryall's soundscape is especially gorgeous) and McCune brings enough vulnerability and genuine likability to Jean to let us love her enough to travel to her heaven, but too much of the production feels awkward once it's out of the comfort of cafes, posh houses and jokes about people who wear black.
This review appears on AussieTheatre.com.
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