Review: Neighbourhood Watch

Neighbourhood Watch
MTC presents the Belvoir production
20 March 2014
The Sumner
to 26 April
mtc.com.aud-watch/

Any one who saw Lally Katz's super-gorgeous Stories I Want to Tell You in Person heard about her writing of Neighbourhood Watch, and will be thrilled that the MTC have brought us that Belvoir production. Like most of Lally's work, it's personal, dreamy and so dark that that you're never sure if you're wiping away tears of heartaching recognition or life-affirming love.

Neighbourhood Watch is about neighbours, friends and death and all the things we do to avoid or confront both.

It's set in the year of Kevin 07: a far-too-quickly-lost time of hope. Howard lost his seat and his government, a woman was Deputy PM, a rock star was Minister for the Environment, Kyoto was signed, our Indigenous people were finally apologised to, and we all got $1000 to buy some treats to keep the economy going. Today, such hope feels like fiction.

It was also the year that Lally moved to Far Kew and met Anna, her 80+ Hungarian neighbour who became her best friend, and the year that Robyn Nevin asked Lally to write her a "tough and funny" character. When the Nevin asks, you write – and result is the story of grieving Catherine (Megan Holloway) meeting her neighbour Ana (Nevin), whose lifetime of grief is as guarded as her big-dog protected front gate.

The combination of Robyn and Ana is as good as it gets. Katz captures the unique second-language rhythm and Nevin perfects it in a performance that lets you love Ana in an instant. Ana's Englishisms and missing social niceties are hilarious, but Nevin assures that we are always on her side, even when she is making painful choices, and that Ana is never made fun of. It's such a remarkable performance that it might be impossible to see the play and not consider real-life Anna a friend.

Simon Stone's confident direction is an enhancing and comfortable fit with the writing; he's able to bring Katz's work to a commercial stage without losing her delightfully awkward tone or any of the love that she pours into her characters, while letting them find their place in the world beyond the text.

With Dale Ferguson's almost bare stage design, made intimate with Damien Cooper's lighting, there's enough space to feel the reach of the drama, but Kew is missing. It's easy for a Melbourne audience to understand the subtleties of the suburb – so much of Katz's work starts with and evokes a sense of place that leaves residents homesick –  but its greyness doesn't share the green of the trees, the manicured lawns, Leo's, the High Street tram or getting stuck on Princess Street trying to cut across to the Eastern Freeway. Having said that, I could see it all, so perhaps the wheelie bins were more than enough.

Lally Katz's writing grabbed me from the first time I saw a short play about the Apocalypse Bear in Kew. There have been ups and downs, but at her best her writing is felt in our hearts before our brains have time to think it all through. Neighbourhood Watch is Katz at her absolute best.

But the real world isn't at its best.  Lally wrote a piece for The Age on 1 March: Anna has cut her off and isn't speaking to her. In Stories, Lally talked about real-life Anna seeing the play in Sydney and the thought of it being in Melbourne without her being there is unthinkable – and, more importantly, it's too sad to think that she might not know how much this play has made us love her.

This was on AussieTheatre.com.

Review: Conversation Piece

Conversation Piece
Lucy Guerin Inc, Belvoir and Arts House
19 March 2013
Meat Market, Arts House
to 24 March 2013

Conversation Piece is the only show in the Dance Massive festival that I’ve managed to see and it left me wanting to talk and rave and see it again.


Lucy Guerin’s work makes me understand contemporary dance; her choreography has a visceral effect that goes beyond the physical, lets me know what she and her dancers were thinking and leaves me cursing that words can be a useless form of expression.  And this is so much more than dance. To say it’s part-impro, part-dance, past-performance doesn’t do justice to any form as it becomes something original and is created from a premise that you will relate to if you read internet reviews.

If you’re reading this on your phone, book your ticket NOW. It’s on until the weekend.

Rarely do I sit in a theatre and have no idea what’s going to happen next. Conversation Piece had me for every moment because I had no idea what is was going to do. Developed with Belvoir and first performed last year (Melbourne has two new cast members), it’s had time to develop, but still feels fresh and new.

Three performers (dancers) walk onto the stage and talk, while recording themselves on a pair of iPhones. With no rehearsal, topic or brief, each performance is unique and a second visit is almost mandatory. And if you see someone laughing as they drink granulated ginger tea or a Ural sachet, you’ll know they were at the Melbourne opening night.

Despite being very public, the initial conversation feels as awkwardly delightful as overhearing a group of strangers chatting. Unlike dialogue, it sounds like people talking with interruptions, unfinished thoughts, genuine laughs and the illogical logic that few writers master but we all understand.

At eight minutes, three new performers (actors) come onto the stage, take an iPhone from the talkers, put in earphones and repeat the conversation as they hear it. So a conversation about wasabi, parenting and UTIs becomes the soundtrack to the rest of the performance and is re-visited in the most unexpected forms.

From conversations with themselves to competitions between performers and their craft, it becomes much more than an exercise in form as it confronts our so-quickly-adapted-to smartphone culture. I’ve only had one for 18-months and I don’t take books on the train anymore, I tweet in intervals and let people know if I’m going to a show via Facey. We stare at tiny screens instead of interacting with our friends or strangers. (Please look up from your screen and smile at someone nearby; even if it’s just yourself.)

Don’t think for a moment that this premise of isolation makes boring theatre because we’re watching what the isolated do – and I can say that at the end of this show, there wasn’t the usual rush to check phones in the foyer.

Throw in a cast who I can’t say enough good about (Megan Holloway, Stephanie Lake, Alisdair Macindow, Byron Perry, Katherine Tonkin, Matthew Whittet) and this is dance that springs over any limitations or fears of dance being a world away from theatre.

If you haven’t been to much or any of Dance Massive, cancel your weekend plans and get to the Meat Market to see what they are going to talk about.


This appeared on AussieTheatre.com.