Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Parts One and Two
Sonia Friedman Productions, Colin Callender and Harry Potter Theatrical Productions
1 March 2020
Princess Theatre
harrypottertheplay.com/au
Going back to a show that you loved is a little bit scary. What if it's got tired? What if the new cast aren't as lovely? What if your memory of the show was tainted by the enthusiasm of every one else who saw it? What if if just isn't as good?
I loved Harry Potter and Cursed Child last year and it was an easy pick for one of my favourite shows of 2019.
I was overly excited to see it again and secretly terrified that I'd wish I'd kept the first memory.
Is it still the best?
Yes.
I think I loved it MORE this time.
Critically, there's nothing that hasn't been said. Throw all the stars at it. Any issues with a slightly clunky script and a tendency to sentiment are dismissed by story choices, complex characters and impossible dilemmas that need to play at the extremes of the emotional scale to feel deserved. The sentiment isn't unearned melodrama.
Even though the promise to #KeepTheSecrets has been dropped, the thought of denying anyone the surprises, joy and tears is too unfair. The pay offs are worth it, from geeky quivering to plunging back into the book stories and being with characters that we understand far better than they know themselves because we've known them since they were 11.
Maybe we can start discussing the intricacies of the story next year. (If you don't know if someone has seen it and don't want to ask them outright, ask "Is that a farmers market?".)
Meanwhile, so much of the joy of being there is spending the day with friends and strangers who know this world and want to talk about which house you're in.
Technically what happens on the Cursed Child stage is as close to perfect as staging can be. The tricks are hidden, without ever denying that they are tricks and without ever doubting that they are magic. Without any stage distraction – the magic works every time – the audience are free to be in the world and only have to worry about the story and the characters. Never seeing the outrageous cleverness of the technology is the genius of the technology.
All of which would mean nothing if the cast faltered. If a cape swish were halfhearted, if a stair move were out of sync, if a background glance weren't in the right direction, the magic would be broken. It never is.
This Harry Potter story is a different experience from reading the books, seeing the film (or cosplaying or indulging in fan fiction). This story is driven by the personal rather than the magical. While the films can create house elves and hippogriffs – and imaginations create anything as we read – a stage story is limited to a box. The staging IS remarkable, but it's secondary to the personal experiences of the characters. We don't cry because someone can go back in time, we cry because of why they do it.
The significant new cast members (Nyx Calder as Scorpius Malfoy and Michael Whalley as Ron Weasley, and Gillian Cosgriff moving to Delphi Diggory and Jessica Vickers to Moaning Myrtle) slip in like they've always been there and prove that there's room to bring new insights to the characters; Cosgriff's Delphi is especially exciting and terrifying.
And seeing how the existing cast have developed the characters is another reason why the show isn't going anywhere. Sean Rees-Wemyss (Albus Potter), Gareth Reeves (Harry Potter) and Tom Wren (Draco Malfoy) have each brought a depth of understanding that adds dimensions to a story full of dimensions. And Paula Arundell (Hermione Granger) and Lucy Goleby (Ginny Potter) continue to bring guts and courage to the women who love Harry but know his faults better than anyone.
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is still everything fans could dream of and is guaranteed to convince the most skeptical muggle that magic is real.
It's also prohibitively expensive. And, even knowing that this is what it costs to make something this good, that still breaks my heart. I want every one who has loved the books to experience this show.
It's worth saving up for and entering the Friday Forty every week. But I will keep asking that producers and governments and organisations with money consider what they can do to make this an experience that isn't restricted to people who can afford it.
Mostly Melbourne theatre reviews
Showing posts with label Paula Arundell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paula Arundell. Show all posts
06 March 2020
23 February 2019
Review: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
Sonia Friedman Productions, Colin Callender and Harry Potter Theatrical Productions
17 February 2019 (industry show)
Princess Theatre
harrypottertheplay.com/au/
"Just read the 'kin' books, A-M."
That was my introduction to the world of Harry Potter in 2001. A friend handed me the books because she was horrified that I hadn't read any of the four. Being in our 30s, we were allowed to swear. By the end of the first chapter, I was equally horrified that I'd been quick to dismiss a children's book about a kid wizard at a posh boarding school. I got the next three books on the day they were released. And haven't devoured any books so quickly since.
It's still overwhelming to try and understand the global cultural impact of JK Rowling's Harry Potter series: 500+million copies sold, translated into 80 languages, best-selling book series ever. That's before the films, theme parks and JK's awesomeness on Twitter.
It's so much that I'm pretty sure that no review needs to explain anything about Harry, Ron and Hermione's years at Hogwarts. Even muggles know about them.
I wasn't convinced about the 19-years-later epilogue to book seven because it took away the readers' imagined futures for these loved characters. And I already felt a bit sorry for Harry and Ginny's kids who had to live up to being the children of the too-famous Boy-Who-Lived and being named after their dad's dead hero parents. Which seems light compared to the burden given to Albus Severus, the middle child, who's being sent off to wizard school named after two wizards who saved his dad and changed the world not very long before he was born.
It's here that Harry Potter and the Cursed Child begins. And I take back every thought I had about not publishing the epilogue.
This new theatre story opened in London in July 2016. It's since opened on Broadway and the Australian production is the third. All are breaking theatre sales records, have won/will win piles of awards and are likely to run for so long that slowly saving up to buy a ticket is an option.
This new story begins as soon as you arrive at the theatre. The Princess has been refurbished for this show. It's now pretty much Hogwarts with dragon gargoyles, hand-painted walls and bespoke carpet. It's bloody gorgeous. And there are new comfy seats and backstage work that future shows are going to be grateful for.
But we're here for the story and are back on Platform 9 3/4 with the Potters and the Granger-Weasley's sending their children off to Hogwarts. As first years Albus and Rose Granger-Weasley are no-choice-cos-cousins friends, there's a bit of apprehension that this is going to be the kids re-living their parents' adventures story.
It's not.
Rowling, script writer John Thorne and director John Tiffany know that fans who have grown up with these stories deserve new paths.
#KeepTheSecrets is all over social media, on badges given to the audience at at the end of each part, supported by JK and is as effective as any spell. I'm pretty sure the spell extends to the published script because I'd forgotten most of it since I read it.
I'm keeping the secrets.
I'm happy to have very long discussions in person though.
There's so much unexpected joy in the on-stage twists and revelations – even the heartbreaking ones – that it'd be heartless to deny any fan those experiences. Even the program has spoiler alerts and warns readers when to stop reading.
It's not a secret that Albus (Sean Rees-Wemyss) befriends Scorpius Malfoy (William McKenna) and that the Sorting Hat makes a decision that will make people re-think their own house choices. Or that they muck about with time.
Fans will continue to debate whether it's canon. Most accept it's a story by JK, so it's now part of the world – even if it changes the consistency of a few million works of fan fiction. (Warning young cast members: you will be getting fan fiction written about you. It may be creepy.)
The script has moments of awkward exposition and favours the sentimental with an over-earnest belief in the power of love and friendship, but its tone is so like the books that minor flaws make no difference to the overall enjoyment of the story. They might stand out more if you don't know the world or appreciate that there are references and bonuses for fans in everything.
The new adventure brings in new characters but continues to explore the ongoing impact of Harry's traumatic childhood; he has some issues with being a dad. And it develops the characters of Ginny (Lucy Goleby) and Draco (Tom Wren) from love interest and enemy to adults who still spend way too much time dealing with Harry Potter (Gareth Reeves). Draco also has some daddy issues to deal with. Hermione (Paula Arundell) and Ron (Gyton Grantley) are, of course, also in the mix and it's no surprise that Hermione is a super success, that she and Ron are still in love, and that Ron is a pretty good dad.
Many other favourite Potter characters are welcomed back with squeals of love (or fear that is still love), but the story is led by Albus and Scorpius, whose trio is completed when they befriend a young witch called Delphi (Madeleine Jones) and set out to correct a wrong doing.
As in their own world, the new characters have to stand out amongst those who are already known, and one of the many delights of this production is how quickly Albus and Scorpius become as loved as the rest. Possibly because Albus is the child Harry deserves and that Scorpius is the child that Draco could have been had be been allowed to be enthusiastic and awkward – and been loved by his dad. And also because Rees-Wemyss and McKenna's bring complexity and questions to their performances.
The new characters have the freedom of being themselves, while the established ones have has 20-odd years of expectations from millions of fans weighing on them. Instead of trying to satisfy everyone, the cast (widely chosen from tv, funded theatre, indie theatre, music theatre and cabaret) seem to bring their own experiences of this world into their characters – even those who weren't born when the first books were released.
Some characterisations may be different from how readers have imagined them, but every one – from Harry to the unnamed Hogwarts students – reaches into the fandom and brings connection and understanding and a delightful mix up of expectations. All are wonderful, but keep an eye out for Debra Lawrance, Gillian Cosgriff and Soren Jensen.
Regardless of the ongoing passionate discussions of canon and consistency, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was written as a theatre story and is told by theatre magic.
The design (Christine Jones) also begins in a train station where suit cases become train carriages but the most astonishing scenes are created by audience imaginations filling in the empty spaces. Some of the most emotionally significant scenes are created as simply as cast members moving a staircase.
There's never an attempt to hide the magic of being on stage. There's where's-your-nose sleight-of-hand magic alongside astounding black light work and misdirection. As an audience, we're able to imagine how the tricks work, except those that must be real magic because WOW!
There's so much WOW!
WOW! that never had to deal with budget constraints.
Heart-stopping, brain-bending, do-it-again WOW!, which is as much part of #KeepTheSecrets as the story.
I loved Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.
As a fan, I want everyone else who loves this world to be able to see it.
But so many people will miss out on this experience because going to the theatre is expensive. It'd cost me a month's rent to take my niece and nephew. If I won the Friday Forty lottery, I'd have to make an impossible choice as to who gets to see it. I'm not denying the costs of creating such a show and keeping it running but there must be ways to welcome more people into the theatre.
Sponsors, government, producers, how can this be an experience that welcomes everyone?
Sonia Friedman Productions, Colin Callender and Harry Potter Theatrical Productions
17 February 2019 (industry show)
Princess Theatre
harrypottertheplay.com/au/
 |
| The Australian company of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Photo by Matt Murphy |
"Just read the 'kin' books, A-M."
That was my introduction to the world of Harry Potter in 2001. A friend handed me the books because she was horrified that I hadn't read any of the four. Being in our 30s, we were allowed to swear. By the end of the first chapter, I was equally horrified that I'd been quick to dismiss a children's book about a kid wizard at a posh boarding school. I got the next three books on the day they were released. And haven't devoured any books so quickly since.
It's still overwhelming to try and understand the global cultural impact of JK Rowling's Harry Potter series: 500+million copies sold, translated into 80 languages, best-selling book series ever. That's before the films, theme parks and JK's awesomeness on Twitter.
It's so much that I'm pretty sure that no review needs to explain anything about Harry, Ron and Hermione's years at Hogwarts. Even muggles know about them.
I wasn't convinced about the 19-years-later epilogue to book seven because it took away the readers' imagined futures for these loved characters. And I already felt a bit sorry for Harry and Ginny's kids who had to live up to being the children of the too-famous Boy-Who-Lived and being named after their dad's dead hero parents. Which seems light compared to the burden given to Albus Severus, the middle child, who's being sent off to wizard school named after two wizards who saved his dad and changed the world not very long before he was born.
 |
| The Australian company of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Photo by Matt Murphy |
It's here that Harry Potter and the Cursed Child begins. And I take back every thought I had about not publishing the epilogue.
This new theatre story opened in London in July 2016. It's since opened on Broadway and the Australian production is the third. All are breaking theatre sales records, have won/will win piles of awards and are likely to run for so long that slowly saving up to buy a ticket is an option.
This new story begins as soon as you arrive at the theatre. The Princess has been refurbished for this show. It's now pretty much Hogwarts with dragon gargoyles, hand-painted walls and bespoke carpet. It's bloody gorgeous. And there are new comfy seats and backstage work that future shows are going to be grateful for.
But we're here for the story and are back on Platform 9 3/4 with the Potters and the Granger-Weasley's sending their children off to Hogwarts. As first years Albus and Rose Granger-Weasley are no-choice-cos-cousins friends, there's a bit of apprehension that this is going to be the kids re-living their parents' adventures story.
It's not.
Rowling, script writer John Thorne and director John Tiffany know that fans who have grown up with these stories deserve new paths.
#KeepTheSecrets is all over social media, on badges given to the audience at at the end of each part, supported by JK and is as effective as any spell. I'm pretty sure the spell extends to the published script because I'd forgotten most of it since I read it.
I'm keeping the secrets.
I'm happy to have very long discussions in person though.
 |
| William McKenna and Sean Rees-Wemyss . Photo by Matt Murphy |
There's so much unexpected joy in the on-stage twists and revelations – even the heartbreaking ones – that it'd be heartless to deny any fan those experiences. Even the program has spoiler alerts and warns readers when to stop reading.
It's not a secret that Albus (Sean Rees-Wemyss) befriends Scorpius Malfoy (William McKenna) and that the Sorting Hat makes a decision that will make people re-think their own house choices. Or that they muck about with time.
Fans will continue to debate whether it's canon. Most accept it's a story by JK, so it's now part of the world – even if it changes the consistency of a few million works of fan fiction. (Warning young cast members: you will be getting fan fiction written about you. It may be creepy.)
The script has moments of awkward exposition and favours the sentimental with an over-earnest belief in the power of love and friendship, but its tone is so like the books that minor flaws make no difference to the overall enjoyment of the story. They might stand out more if you don't know the world or appreciate that there are references and bonuses for fans in everything.
The new adventure brings in new characters but continues to explore the ongoing impact of Harry's traumatic childhood; he has some issues with being a dad. And it develops the characters of Ginny (Lucy Goleby) and Draco (Tom Wren) from love interest and enemy to adults who still spend way too much time dealing with Harry Potter (Gareth Reeves). Draco also has some daddy issues to deal with. Hermione (Paula Arundell) and Ron (Gyton Grantley) are, of course, also in the mix and it's no surprise that Hermione is a super success, that she and Ron are still in love, and that Ron is a pretty good dad.
Many other favourite Potter characters are welcomed back with squeals of love (or fear that is still love), but the story is led by Albus and Scorpius, whose trio is completed when they befriend a young witch called Delphi (Madeleine Jones) and set out to correct a wrong doing.
As in their own world, the new characters have to stand out amongst those who are already known, and one of the many delights of this production is how quickly Albus and Scorpius become as loved as the rest. Possibly because Albus is the child Harry deserves and that Scorpius is the child that Draco could have been had be been allowed to be enthusiastic and awkward – and been loved by his dad. And also because Rees-Wemyss and McKenna's bring complexity and questions to their performances.
The new characters have the freedom of being themselves, while the established ones have has 20-odd years of expectations from millions of fans weighing on them. Instead of trying to satisfy everyone, the cast (widely chosen from tv, funded theatre, indie theatre, music theatre and cabaret) seem to bring their own experiences of this world into their characters – even those who weren't born when the first books were released.
Some characterisations may be different from how readers have imagined them, but every one – from Harry to the unnamed Hogwarts students – reaches into the fandom and brings connection and understanding and a delightful mix up of expectations. All are wonderful, but keep an eye out for Debra Lawrance, Gillian Cosgriff and Soren Jensen.
 |
| The Australian company of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Photo by Matt Murphy |
Regardless of the ongoing passionate discussions of canon and consistency, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was written as a theatre story and is told by theatre magic.
The design (Christine Jones) also begins in a train station where suit cases become train carriages but the most astonishing scenes are created by audience imaginations filling in the empty spaces. Some of the most emotionally significant scenes are created as simply as cast members moving a staircase.
There's never an attempt to hide the magic of being on stage. There's where's-your-nose sleight-of-hand magic alongside astounding black light work and misdirection. As an audience, we're able to imagine how the tricks work, except those that must be real magic because WOW!
There's so much WOW!
WOW! that never had to deal with budget constraints.
Heart-stopping, brain-bending, do-it-again WOW!, which is as much part of #KeepTheSecrets as the story.
I loved Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.
As a fan, I want everyone else who loves this world to be able to see it.
But so many people will miss out on this experience because going to the theatre is expensive. It'd cost me a month's rent to take my niece and nephew. If I won the Friday Forty lottery, I'd have to make an impossible choice as to who gets to see it. I'm not denying the costs of creating such a show and keeping it running but there must be ways to welcome more people into the theatre.
Sponsors, government, producers, how can this be an experience that welcomes everyone?
 |
| As critics have no bias, I knitted a Gryffindor-Slytherin-Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw scarf to wear to the show. |
22 November 2017
What Melbourne Loved in 2017, part 2
Today we have three people who have all been through MUST at Monash Uni; MUST won last year's "Everything they do rocks" award.
Mama Alto
Jazz cabaret diva
Favourite moments in 2017
900 people, in tears, with smiles, hearts full to burst, singing together: “You can lie down or get up and play”.
Honourable mentions must go to Kate Mulvany’s fascinating depiction of Richard of York in Richard III, Margot Tanjutco’s magical realist 1940s Asian-American wonderland in Estrella Wing: Showgirl, and Anne-Marie Peard crocheting queer rainbow granny squares live on stage whilst Taylor Mac sang "Yankee Doodle Dandy".
Looking forward to in 2018
I was lucky to catch The Bleeding Tree, one of the most astounding Australian plays I have ever seen, in Sydney in 2017 – and I am thrilled it will be coming to Melbourne in 2018. Revelatory, damning, chilling, fascinating, introspective, and arresting performances from all three actresses, but especially Paula Arundell.
Similarly, it will be fabulous to have the Virginia Gay lead Calamity Jane come to Melbourne.
But most of all I look forward to being surprised.
SM: No YOU'RE crying! Who am I kidding. We're back at Taylor Mac and I'm crying. And one of the greatest of all the unforgettable moments of that 24 hours was Taylor giving the stage to Mama during Chapter III. The captured silence. The moment when the whole audience breathed in together before we exploded in applause – or was it screaming. It was magnificent.
Mama has been involved in the creation of so many shows this year; I miss too many of them. I'm not missing the Christmas show at the Butterfly Club this year.
www.mamaalto.com
Daniel Lammin
Director, writer
Favourite moments in 2017
It’s a tough one this year, because my favourite theatre experience wasn’t something I saw in Melbourne. So I’m going to cheat and do two, mostly because I’m excitable and greedy.
The Melbourne-based production that had the biggest impact on me this past year was probably The Rabble’s Joan. I’ve never been a big fan of their work, but Joan really deeply moved me. It was raw and unforgiving, thrilling in its form and devastating in its content, and the sight of those four superb women baring their souls on stage was often breathtaking. There was nothing didactic or self-consciously clever about its execution, every moment seemly crafted by primal instinct and tremendous daring. I’ve always been fascinated by Jean d’Arc as a figure, but had never seen her story approached with such integrity and fury. The final monologues had me captivated and sobbing. It’s easily my favourite work from The Rabble and I walked away with the feeling that something had shifted inside me as both an audience member and a theatre maker.
This year though, I made my first overseas trip ever to the USA and spent two weeks in New York. I saw eight shows over there, many of which were superb (especially the immersive Barrow Street production of Sweeney Todd), but the highlight of the trip, and my year, and one of the best theatrical experiences I’ve ever had, was seeing Ben Platt in Dear Evan Hansen.
I unashamedly love the musical even with its many problems, and the production is excellent, but Platt’s performance was jaw-dropping. The closest I’ve seen to any performance as detailed, committed and unforgiving was seeing Robin Nevin in Kosky’s Women of Troy, and the effect was similar – uncontrollable sobbing and wide-eyed awe (thankfully, everyone else was dry-heaving sobbing as much as I was, so I didn’t ruin anyone else’s evening).
As an audience member, I was shattered by every second he appeared on stage; as a director, I marvelled at how the hell he was able to do it in the first place, especially someone so damn young. I’ve spent a lot of my theatrical practice looking at young men in emotional crisis, so both the show and Platt’s devastating performance were something I really needed to see. To be honest, it was probably the best performance by an actor I’ve ever seen on stage, and worth every cent of the $US300 I paid to see it.
Looking forward to in 2018
Well, I can’t wait to see how the fuck Matt Lutton and Declan Greene adapt Lars von Trier’s Melancholia on stage because what the hell, and am pumped to see Anne-Louise Sarks’s production of Blasted. Plus there’s A Doll’s House Part 2 and Patricia Cornelius FINALLY ON A MAIN STAGE with The House of Bernarda Alba at the MTC, and I’m sure a whole lot of other independent work that’ll pop up over the year. Really though, I just can’t wait to see Picnic at Hanging Rock again. I’m going to take my fiancé and his family along and, honestly, I hope it scares the shit out of them!
SM: My favourite Daniel moment is the same as last year's: His production of Awakening. Giving Wendela power and letting her take back her story still makes me skip a breath to take it in. Too many women's stories about, especially young women's stories, about rape and abuse still end in the convenience of death and silence. Shows like this do so much to take away shame and let women be heard.
Christopher Bryant
Writer, actor
Favourite moments in 2017
Revolt. She said. Revolt again. at the Malthouse – the first half was some of the most joyous/intelligent/occasionally crass writing I’ve seen this year, and the second half an overwhelming gut punch. I know I’m talking in hyperbole, but I just honestly loved it. It was the first time in a few years that I sat in a theatre grinning uncontrollably as I watched something.
The other moment (“moment”) would be Julia Croft’s If there’s not dancing at the revolution, I’m not coming. I knew nothing going in and was blown away for an hour: a simultaneously hilarious and venomous deconstruction of onscreen female representation that played with form. It also had a brilliant soundtrack to boot. Both pieces felt truly unpredictable, and therefore, truly exciting.
Looking forward to in 2018
Working with Children by Nicola Gunn, Astroman by Albert Beiz (I saw the development showing at the 2015 National Play Festival, and it was really exciting), Melancholia, Blackie Blackie Brown… so many things. Also, heaps of shows that I don’t know about: I didn’t get to attend as many shows as I would’ve liked to this year, and I’m going to try and see more next year.
December PS: I'm glad and mildly regretful that I only saw Nanette after I submitted to this because I feel like it just would've turned everything into: "Nanette. The whole thing. The whole damn thing."
SM: This Fringe, I saw a lot of shows and wasn't able to write about; Christopher's Intoxication was up there with the best. He wrote and performed a very honest and personal story without being sentimental or indulgent. One of my favourite moments during the show was his story about getting advice from Kate Mulvany. I'm really looking forward to seeing the next steps of its development.
part 1
2016
2014
2013
2012
Mama Alto
Jazz cabaret diva
 |
| Taylor Mac and Mama Alto. Photo by Sarah Walker |
Favourite moments in 2017
900 people, in tears, with smiles, hearts full to burst, singing together: “You can lie down or get up and play”.
Honourable mentions must go to Kate Mulvany’s fascinating depiction of Richard of York in Richard III, Margot Tanjutco’s magical realist 1940s Asian-American wonderland in Estrella Wing: Showgirl, and Anne-Marie Peard crocheting queer rainbow granny squares live on stage whilst Taylor Mac sang "Yankee Doodle Dandy".
Looking forward to in 2018
I was lucky to catch The Bleeding Tree, one of the most astounding Australian plays I have ever seen, in Sydney in 2017 – and I am thrilled it will be coming to Melbourne in 2018. Revelatory, damning, chilling, fascinating, introspective, and arresting performances from all three actresses, but especially Paula Arundell.
Similarly, it will be fabulous to have the Virginia Gay lead Calamity Jane come to Melbourne.
But most of all I look forward to being surprised.
SM: No YOU'RE crying! Who am I kidding. We're back at Taylor Mac and I'm crying. And one of the greatest of all the unforgettable moments of that 24 hours was Taylor giving the stage to Mama during Chapter III. The captured silence. The moment when the whole audience breathed in together before we exploded in applause – or was it screaming. It was magnificent.
Mama has been involved in the creation of so many shows this year; I miss too many of them. I'm not missing the Christmas show at the Butterfly Club this year.
www.mamaalto.com
Daniel Lammin
Director, writer
 |
| Daniel Lammin made it to Broadway! |
Favourite moments in 2017
It’s a tough one this year, because my favourite theatre experience wasn’t something I saw in Melbourne. So I’m going to cheat and do two, mostly because I’m excitable and greedy.
The Melbourne-based production that had the biggest impact on me this past year was probably The Rabble’s Joan. I’ve never been a big fan of their work, but Joan really deeply moved me. It was raw and unforgiving, thrilling in its form and devastating in its content, and the sight of those four superb women baring their souls on stage was often breathtaking. There was nothing didactic or self-consciously clever about its execution, every moment seemly crafted by primal instinct and tremendous daring. I’ve always been fascinated by Jean d’Arc as a figure, but had never seen her story approached with such integrity and fury. The final monologues had me captivated and sobbing. It’s easily my favourite work from The Rabble and I walked away with the feeling that something had shifted inside me as both an audience member and a theatre maker.
This year though, I made my first overseas trip ever to the USA and spent two weeks in New York. I saw eight shows over there, many of which were superb (especially the immersive Barrow Street production of Sweeney Todd), but the highlight of the trip, and my year, and one of the best theatrical experiences I’ve ever had, was seeing Ben Platt in Dear Evan Hansen.
I unashamedly love the musical even with its many problems, and the production is excellent, but Platt’s performance was jaw-dropping. The closest I’ve seen to any performance as detailed, committed and unforgiving was seeing Robin Nevin in Kosky’s Women of Troy, and the effect was similar – uncontrollable sobbing and wide-eyed awe (thankfully, everyone else was dry-heaving sobbing as much as I was, so I didn’t ruin anyone else’s evening).
As an audience member, I was shattered by every second he appeared on stage; as a director, I marvelled at how the hell he was able to do it in the first place, especially someone so damn young. I’ve spent a lot of my theatrical practice looking at young men in emotional crisis, so both the show and Platt’s devastating performance were something I really needed to see. To be honest, it was probably the best performance by an actor I’ve ever seen on stage, and worth every cent of the $US300 I paid to see it.
Looking forward to in 2018
Well, I can’t wait to see how the fuck Matt Lutton and Declan Greene adapt Lars von Trier’s Melancholia on stage because what the hell, and am pumped to see Anne-Louise Sarks’s production of Blasted. Plus there’s A Doll’s House Part 2 and Patricia Cornelius FINALLY ON A MAIN STAGE with The House of Bernarda Alba at the MTC, and I’m sure a whole lot of other independent work that’ll pop up over the year. Really though, I just can’t wait to see Picnic at Hanging Rock again. I’m going to take my fiancé and his family along and, honestly, I hope it scares the shit out of them!
SM: My favourite Daniel moment is the same as last year's: His production of Awakening. Giving Wendela power and letting her take back her story still makes me skip a breath to take it in. Too many women's stories about, especially young women's stories, about rape and abuse still end in the convenience of death and silence. Shows like this do so much to take away shame and let women be heard.
Christopher Bryant
Writer, actor
 |
| Christopher Bryant. Photo by Lisa-Maree Williams |
Favourite moments in 2017
Revolt. She said. Revolt again. at the Malthouse – the first half was some of the most joyous/intelligent/occasionally crass writing I’ve seen this year, and the second half an overwhelming gut punch. I know I’m talking in hyperbole, but I just honestly loved it. It was the first time in a few years that I sat in a theatre grinning uncontrollably as I watched something.
The other moment (“moment”) would be Julia Croft’s If there’s not dancing at the revolution, I’m not coming. I knew nothing going in and was blown away for an hour: a simultaneously hilarious and venomous deconstruction of onscreen female representation that played with form. It also had a brilliant soundtrack to boot. Both pieces felt truly unpredictable, and therefore, truly exciting.
Looking forward to in 2018
Working with Children by Nicola Gunn, Astroman by Albert Beiz (I saw the development showing at the 2015 National Play Festival, and it was really exciting), Melancholia, Blackie Blackie Brown… so many things. Also, heaps of shows that I don’t know about: I didn’t get to attend as many shows as I would’ve liked to this year, and I’m going to try and see more next year.
December PS: I'm glad and mildly regretful that I only saw Nanette after I submitted to this because I feel like it just would've turned everything into: "Nanette. The whole thing. The whole damn thing."
SM: This Fringe, I saw a lot of shows and wasn't able to write about; Christopher's Intoxication was up there with the best. He wrote and performed a very honest and personal story without being sentimental or indulgent. One of my favourite moments during the show was his story about getting advice from Kate Mulvany. I'm really looking forward to seeing the next steps of its development.
part 1
2016
2014
2013
2012
16 August 2017
Review: The Real and Imagined History of The Elephant Man
The Real and Imagined History of The Elephant Man
Malthouse Thearte
9 August 2017
Beckett Theatre
to 27 August
malthousetheatre.com.au
My first experience of Joseph Merrick's story was in 1980 with David Lynch's film The Elephant Man, on the big screen. I may have been too young to deal emotionally with the initial fear – and eventual love – created by Lynch, but it carved the story of the young man who few could see as human into my memory. Unlike the well-known stories of Merrick that run the gauntlet of extreme emotion and see Merrick with pity, director Matt Lutton and writer Tom Wright take us into Merrick's imagined thoughts in The Real and Imagined History of The Elephant Man at Malthouse.
The production begins in 1880s England with the audience being welcomed behind a giant sideshow curtain to gawp for the cost of our ticket. Once we're complicit freak gawpers, Merrick’s story is told chronologically from his impoverished childhood to circus exhibit to the questioned sanctuary of a hospital. Based on what is known about his life, each scene gets closer to his imagined thoughts until we're with Merrick and looking back at ourselves.
Daniel Monks performance as Merrick finds a personal and intriguing space where he lets the audience know that he knows he’s being looked at because he is an actor with a physical disability. Performing without prosthetics, Merrick’s “cauliflower squeezing into pigskin” growths are imagined and there’s much more power in his wearing and final rejection of his “gentleman’s” suit. It’s cool to be different as long as you’re trying to be the same as everyone else.
Marg Horwell's costume design stresses the sameness of Merrick’s world and her set (with Paul Jackson’s consistently-remarkable lighting) initially feels Lynchian with a wide-screen frame that opens in black and white. But any comfortable and safe idea of a flat and distanced world is dismissed when the smoke and fog of industrialisation can’t be controlled and makes the audience part of the world.
Having all other characters performed by women (Paula Arundell, Julie Forsyth, Emma J Hawkins and Sophie Ross) parallels the question about how we tell and remember stories though different eyes. So much of Merrick’s story is known because it was told by Frederick Treves, the doctor who brought him to the hospital. Treves isn't part of this story; this time it’s Merrick’s story.
Yet for all it’s visual power and emotional punch, the production is dramatically inconsistent and at times feels like it’s caught trying to reflect on perceptions of disability rather than exploring the imagined life of the man whose skeleton is still on display and is mostly remembered because of his moniker.
Malthouse Thearte
9 August 2017
Beckett Theatre
to 27 August
malthousetheatre.com.au
 |
| Daniel Monks. The Real and Imagined History of The Elephant Man. Photo by Pia Johnson |
My first experience of Joseph Merrick's story was in 1980 with David Lynch's film The Elephant Man, on the big screen. I may have been too young to deal emotionally with the initial fear – and eventual love – created by Lynch, but it carved the story of the young man who few could see as human into my memory. Unlike the well-known stories of Merrick that run the gauntlet of extreme emotion and see Merrick with pity, director Matt Lutton and writer Tom Wright take us into Merrick's imagined thoughts in The Real and Imagined History of The Elephant Man at Malthouse.
The production begins in 1880s England with the audience being welcomed behind a giant sideshow curtain to gawp for the cost of our ticket. Once we're complicit freak gawpers, Merrick’s story is told chronologically from his impoverished childhood to circus exhibit to the questioned sanctuary of a hospital. Based on what is known about his life, each scene gets closer to his imagined thoughts until we're with Merrick and looking back at ourselves.
Daniel Monks performance as Merrick finds a personal and intriguing space where he lets the audience know that he knows he’s being looked at because he is an actor with a physical disability. Performing without prosthetics, Merrick’s “cauliflower squeezing into pigskin” growths are imagined and there’s much more power in his wearing and final rejection of his “gentleman’s” suit. It’s cool to be different as long as you’re trying to be the same as everyone else.
Marg Horwell's costume design stresses the sameness of Merrick’s world and her set (with Paul Jackson’s consistently-remarkable lighting) initially feels Lynchian with a wide-screen frame that opens in black and white. But any comfortable and safe idea of a flat and distanced world is dismissed when the smoke and fog of industrialisation can’t be controlled and makes the audience part of the world.
Having all other characters performed by women (Paula Arundell, Julie Forsyth, Emma J Hawkins and Sophie Ross) parallels the question about how we tell and remember stories though different eyes. So much of Merrick’s story is known because it was told by Frederick Treves, the doctor who brought him to the hospital. Treves isn't part of this story; this time it’s Merrick’s story.
Yet for all it’s visual power and emotional punch, the production is dramatically inconsistent and at times feels like it’s caught trying to reflect on perceptions of disability rather than exploring the imagined life of the man whose skeleton is still on display and is mostly remembered because of his moniker.
13 August 2015
Sometimes Sydney review: The Bleeding Tree
The Bleeding Tree
Griffin Theatre Company
10 August 2015
SBW Stables Theatre
to 5 September
griffintheatre.com.au
The Bleeding Tree won Angus Cerini the 2014 Griffin Award for New Australian Playwriting and its premiere production is running at Griffin's Stables Theatre in Sydney. This is theatre made with passion, guts and the conviction that change is not only possible but inevitable.
It opens as a woman (Paula Arundell) and her daughters (Shari Sebbens and Airlie Dodds) stand next to the body of the husband, father and monster they just killed. Their world (designed by Renee Mulder) is filthy, sand-encrusted, floral wall paper that looks like it's folded with knife-edge cuts and immediately feels like a forgotten Australian town in the middle of god-knows-where. As soon as they open their mouths, it's hard to remember to breath for the next hour.
This is shattering theatre that grips your heart in a vice that doesn't let go until the final syllable.
Cerini's writing is somewhere between genius and freak. It's damaged and violent and bloody and so fucking beautiful that it's like listening to music for the first time and wondering how noise can reach your soul like that.
Sounding like a ballad that recreates the idea of rhythm; it's almost begging to be a libretto. There's not a syllable out of place as each line defies the expected beat and creates one that catches the ear and refuses to be anything other than perfect.
And that's just the language.
Filled with images that are unforgettably gruesome but exquisitely just, it's a story that never gives away its next turn and could slip from hope to despair in a moment as the townsfolk discover that the man's been killed.
But astonishing writing is only the beginning of this production.
Arundel, Sebbens and Dodds bring character and history and a wholeness to the script that makes the women so real that it's hard to accept that they're fiction.
Dodds lets us see the rat-eaten, maggot-infested body through her eyes and brings the doubt of a young woman who tries to hope that her father acted out of love. Sebbens never doubts but is revolted and broken enough to be the one who could carry on the violence – her saying "hit her" nearly broke me. And Arundell cuts our hearts so many times that her breaking-point speech – about how everyone knew it was happening – speaks for every woman and child who has lived in fear and been beaten, raped and abused.
Directed by Griffin's Artistic Director Lee Lewis, The Bleeding Tree is so complete that it's hard to differentiate the creative contributions. Without preaching or lecturing, it – literally – rips open the bleeding guts of domestic violence and imagines a world where this is unacceptable.
It's unmissable.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
Griffin Theatre Company
10 August 2015
SBW Stables Theatre
to 5 September
griffintheatre.com.au
 |
| The Bleeding Tree. Shari Sebbens, Paula Arundell, Airlie Dodds. Photo by Brett Boardman |
The Bleeding Tree won Angus Cerini the 2014 Griffin Award for New Australian Playwriting and its premiere production is running at Griffin's Stables Theatre in Sydney. This is theatre made with passion, guts and the conviction that change is not only possible but inevitable.
It opens as a woman (Paula Arundell) and her daughters (Shari Sebbens and Airlie Dodds) stand next to the body of the husband, father and monster they just killed. Their world (designed by Renee Mulder) is filthy, sand-encrusted, floral wall paper that looks like it's folded with knife-edge cuts and immediately feels like a forgotten Australian town in the middle of god-knows-where. As soon as they open their mouths, it's hard to remember to breath for the next hour.
This is shattering theatre that grips your heart in a vice that doesn't let go until the final syllable.
Cerini's writing is somewhere between genius and freak. It's damaged and violent and bloody and so fucking beautiful that it's like listening to music for the first time and wondering how noise can reach your soul like that.
Sounding like a ballad that recreates the idea of rhythm; it's almost begging to be a libretto. There's not a syllable out of place as each line defies the expected beat and creates one that catches the ear and refuses to be anything other than perfect.
And that's just the language.
Filled with images that are unforgettably gruesome but exquisitely just, it's a story that never gives away its next turn and could slip from hope to despair in a moment as the townsfolk discover that the man's been killed.
But astonishing writing is only the beginning of this production.
Arundel, Sebbens and Dodds bring character and history and a wholeness to the script that makes the women so real that it's hard to accept that they're fiction.
Dodds lets us see the rat-eaten, maggot-infested body through her eyes and brings the doubt of a young woman who tries to hope that her father acted out of love. Sebbens never doubts but is revolted and broken enough to be the one who could carry on the violence – her saying "hit her" nearly broke me. And Arundell cuts our hearts so many times that her breaking-point speech – about how everyone knew it was happening – speaks for every woman and child who has lived in fear and been beaten, raped and abused.
Directed by Griffin's Artistic Director Lee Lewis, The Bleeding Tree is so complete that it's hard to differentiate the creative contributions. Without preaching or lecturing, it – literally – rips open the bleeding guts of domestic violence and imagines a world where this is unacceptable.
It's unmissable.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
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