Poor Boy

Poor Boy
Melbourne Theatre Company and Sydney Theatre Company
27 February 2009
Sumner Theatre

The Melbourne Theatre Company opened the shiny, brand-spanking-new Sumner Theatre this very-hot week with a shiny, new, very hot Australian work.
 
Poor Boy is described as “a play with songs”. Matt Cameron’s script weaves with Tim Finn’s music from over the last 30 years, including songs from Spit Enz and his solo work.
 
This highly original work is not a piece of musical theatre. The songs are not part of the plot and used like an emotional commentary. The story stands by itself without the music and the music tells its own story without the play. As neither is dependent upon the other, they support and strengthen each other to create something surprisingly powerful and unexpectedly moving.
 
‘Poor Boy’ is also the title of a song from Split Enz’s album ‘True Colours’. (Remember, “My love is alien” with lots of dated swishy synth.)This was my favourite album of 1980 (constant playing of “I hope I never” got me though much tween-heartbreak) and still makes it onto my iPod. Ian McDonald’s arrangements make the music feel like it was written for the story, while Cameron’s script captures Finn’s recurring natural motifs and recreates the mood of each song through a completely different story.
 
When Jem turns seven, he claims to be adult Danny who died several years ago. Truths are and secrets are revealed as both families cope with the loss of a son. Cameron places the supernatural and the extraordinary well within the ordinary and recognisable world of the two families, while developing a sense of wonder and a dreamlike detachment. The MTCS’s companion piece Grace deals with similar themes, but Poor Boy is so much more powerful because the playwright never questions the truth of the situation and lets the beliefs of the characters guide the audience to their own conclusions.
 
Cameron’s perfectly crafted writing surprises at each turn and concludes so perfectly that you could never imagine it being anything else. Each character had their own complete and engaging story and balance within the overall plot. His complex imagery of water, digging, biblical heroes and zebras seems ridiculous as I write it, but beautiful on the stage and forms the lyrical base of the script. The dialogue sounds slightly unnatural, but it clearly comes from the unspoken and unconscious thoughts of the characters and conversations that are more fluid would break the haunting atmosphere.
 
The star-power of Guy Pearce as Danny will bring many people to Poor Boy – and rightly so. Pearce on stage is as enigmatic and addictive as he is on film. He puts the character before his performance and makes you completely forget you are watching an actor.
 
The rest of the cast (Greg Stone, Linda Cropper, Matt Dykrunski, Sara Gleeson, Abi Tucker, Sarah Peirse and a rotating cast of three boys) are equally as outstanding, and Simon Phillips’s direction steps back to let the script and music speak for themselves while discretely helping when a little more is needed.
 
The love that the creative team have for this work spills from the stage. There is never a moment when it doesn’t feel like this is something very special and it’s wonderful to sit amongst an audience who can feel and share this sense of pride and wonder.
 
This time last year I was saying how consistently disappointed I was with the MTC. Perhaps the move to the terrific new theatre has released some demons. Poor Boy is setting the bar high for what this company should always producing and I hope I never have to see a lesser production again.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com

The Year of Magical Thinking

The Year of Magical Thinking
Melbourne Theatre Company presents Sydney Theatre Company’s production
27 February 2009
Fairfax Studio, the Arts Centre

Joan Didion had a blessed life. She married the man she loved, had a much-adored child and enjoyed an envious writing career among the New York and LA literati. In an unfair matter of months her husband and daughter died, leaving Didion with only her writing. The Year of Magical Thinking is her memoir of that unimaginable time. She wasn’t convinced she should re-write it as a play. Fortunately, she took that risk.
 
Cate Blanchett directed Robin Nevin in the Sydney Theatre Company’s production of the 90-minute monologue in 2008 and Melbourne Theatre Company are letting us share this memorable work. The sound and lighting design didn’t cohesively make the trip, but this awkwardness did little to lessen the impact of this remarkable production.
 
In the US, Didion isn’t a tabloid-worthy celebrity, but is faced with recognition from most memoir-reading and theatre-going audiences. Blanchett knows well the joys and curses of being a celebrity persona, and her direction purposefully takes the work away from Didion as a character and reveals the raw story. The balance struck between emotion and story is where this piece shines.
 
For some, Didion’s exploration of her own grief seems distant, as she created a metaphorical world of water around her grief and structured it for “easy” reading. For others her restraint and control is natural and a relief to recognise that all heartbroken widows and mothers don’t collapse in a cliché of screaming tears to prove that their very essence is hurting.
 
The Year of Magical Thinking is about extreme emotion, but Blanchett and Nevin let the story guide the audience. It would have been easy to play the emotion – and it would have struck all the right chords – but by restraining the character, the audience infuse the story with their own experiences of grief and love – which makes the experience so much more powerful and personal.
 
None of which can take away from Nevin’s performance. It’s not just that she creates a character who lets us forget that she’s Nevin, but that she enables a full audience to empathise with a woman who is so unlike most people watching. Nevin may have an odd reputation in our gossipy world of theatre, but there are few actors who equal this level of skill and understanding. Her performance is about letting us feel our own grief and love, not about us watching her fine performance.
 
“Magical thinking” is described as tribal thinking, such as sacrificing to ensure a good harvest - but it’s not unknown to anyone. As children we try not to step on cracks; Didion chose her actions secretly believing that her behaviour would bring her loved ones back. There’s no logic or sense in the reasoning, but maybe the magic of this thinking is that lets our hearts keep beating when loss and grief are trying to overwhelm us.
 
This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com

I Love You, Bro

I Love You, Bro
Three to a Room and Malthouse Theatre
14 February 2009
The Tower, Cub Malthouse

If you heard that I Love You Bro was not to be missed – but you missed its 2007 and 2008 seasons – don’t worry because it’s at the Malthouse Theatre until the end of the month. Don’t miss it this time.

Among the madness of the 2007 Melbourne Fringe was a small show called I Love You, Bro. I wasn’t the only reviewer praising, and Adam J A Cass secured a Fringe award and a Green Room nomination for his script. Local independent producers Three to a Room came on board and more great reviews and full houses followed at a short Melbourne return season and the Edinburgh Fringe. Whilst they were on the other side of the world, the Malthouse’s Executive Producer finally caught the show and promptly placed it in the company’s 2009 season.

Cass’s script is inspired by the true story of a Manchester teenager who convinced another boy to stab him solely from their internet communications. At the time, it was almost unbelievable that anyone’s reality could be so influenced by the falseness of the net. It happened when chat was still for the geeks, but now even my Mum chats to me on Facebook and it’s not so hard to imagine how easy it was for Johnny to lure Mark to that alley.

I’ve raved about this script before, but it continues to deserve many words of praise. Cass took the facts and made it a story. His fluid flow from past to present never ceases to intrigue, his simple use of minor offstage characters shows us so much about Johnny, and he gives Johnny opportunities to make it right – whilst knowing there is no was out.

Although it was written about a very specific sub-culture, increasing technology and our willing acceptance of the virtual world has revealed a depth to the script that wasn’t so obvious at first. As many of us now interact in a virtual world as much as Johnny did, the underlying themes of lies, deceit, loneliness and power play much more strongly than the plot about the boy chatting online. As our perceptions are changing, perhaps the script could be made even more powerful with some cautious editing.

If you saw the original production, the changes to I Love You, Bro are minimal, but the growth is substantial. Jason Lehane has redesigned his subtle, yet powerful, set for the larger venue, with his projections adding their own narrative to the stage and a lighting design that must be what cyber space looks like.

The piece is now also performed with a northern English accent. Having seen both versions, I wouldn’t have noticed the accent if I hadn’t known it was there. I do wonder about the choice to add accents when a story is universal, but it adds a degree of authenticity, without distracting from its power or from the story and Ash Flanders never lets the accent define or control the character.

I can’t imagine anyone but Flanders as Johnny. He is best known around town for his questionable “ball acting” in Sisters Grimm productions. His mad, punk-camp-drag is mighty fine, but his performance in I Love You, Bro is remarkable. The complexity of the script makes it a very difficult piece to perform, demanding that the actor be Johnny, his own object of desire and every persona he creates. Flanders relishes the difficulty and his connection to the audience reflects the state of Johnny’s thoughts, being intimate and personal, then distant and detached. He never lets us feel sorry for Johnny, but gives a sense of warped understanding and empathy.

A monologue set in front of a computer, with a disjointed sense of time and minimal action isn’t something most directors would jump at. Fortunately, Yvonne Virsik jumped. Her direction gives a satisfying completeness to the work, as she finds the changing truth in the script, lets the audience find a path though the complex plot, and guides Flanders’s performance to a level that he may not have known he could achieve.

I Love You, Bro is one of those shining examples of what can be created from passion and a desire to show a story to the world. Such romantic notions are well and good, but even artists need to pay rent and have a meal, so let’s hope that this Malthouse season opens up many more doors that help Bros’s 2009 UK tour.


This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.

Woyzeck

Woyzeck
Malthouse Theatre
15 February 2009
Merlyn Theatre, CUB Malthouse

With music by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, and Tim Rogers strutting around the stage, Malthouse’s Woyzeck was tipped to lure the cool folk back to the theatre and confirm the ultra-hipness of those who love hanging out in the dark spaces. It is rating well on the cool-o-meter, but opinions are very mixed on its value and success.

Woyzeck was penned by Georg Buchner around 1836-37. He died before he finished it, but his story of a solider who kills his lover continues to inspire. Director Michael Kantor writes of its “bedevilling moral conundrums” and “searing beauty” and hopes to connect the Cave/Ellis music with its universal emotion.

Well, that’s what I read in the program. I don’t think you should have to read the program to understand a show and I save my reading for the tram ride home. After reading Kantor’s program notes, I understood what he was trying to do and think he succeeded, but this understanding and intellectual connection didn’t bring this show back to life for me.

I found Woyzeck distracting. I didn’t dislike it, but was never engaged. The music was as terrific as it should be, the cast were great, the design was pretty neat and there were some great moments - but I didn’t care about the characters, didn’t feel the emotion and spent most of the show wondering why it wasn’t working.

The disjointed nature of the story makes character difficult, but there was enough inherent emotion in the story to sustain the most cynical. This production seemed so intent on looking great and living up to its anticipation that this emotional essence was lost. There were wonderful moments and performances, but the parts didn’t create a greater whole.

Of the wonderful, Tim Rogers is a lauded rock star for very good reason – he’s amazing on stage and you just can’t take your eyes off him. I loved watching him, but he seemed like a wild and bendy peg in a slightly square hole. Kantor is fond of putting singers and non-singers together on a stage. As with last years’ Sleeping Beauty, no matter how well an actor sings, they sound woeful when compared to a professional singer, and no matter how great a performer someone like Rogers is, his acting feels forced compared to the likes of Bojana Novakovic. So, instead of enjoying what these performers do best, we end up distracted by their lesser skills.

Many people love Woyzeck, so it is finding a grateful audience, but if you’re off to the Malthouse this week, I’d recommend going to see I Love You, Bro instead.


This review originally appeared on AussieThearte.com.

Grace

Grace
Melbourne Theatre Company
7 January 2009
Fairfax Studio, the Arts Centre

MTC’s 2009 season starts with Grace, a comprehensive debate about religion, belief, faith and love. It’s another play about middle aged academics in crisis, but no one can ever say that this company don’t target their core audience.

Originally performed as On Religion, Grace was developed in the UK by Mick Gordon’s company On Theatre. Gordon calls his works ‘theatre essays’. Each is a group-devised piece exploring a specific issue through a dramatic narrative, with works including On Death, On Ego and On Emotion. He co-wrote On Religion with English Philosopher A C Grayling.

Grayling is not a believer and his views sit firmly in protagonist Grace. Gordon’s views are more encompassing with each member of Grace’s family having specific and changing perspectives about religion. Questions arise when Grace’s son plans to become an Anglican priest and everyone is forced to confront their core beliefs when tragedy strikes.

Gordon says, “The theatre demands argument and balance. It’s no good at didacticism. In my experience, an audience will just not accept it.” The script reflects this with a fascinating range of well researched, contemporary and authentic arguments. And this is where the problem sits.

It’s a very well written work, but it feels too much like a philosophy student’s honours thesis. You certainly leave the theatre discussing and questioning the arguments put forward, but not talking about the characters and the world just seen. There was chat about what Noni (Hazlehurst) did and what Brian (Lipson) said rather than what Grace and Tom went though. I spent the rest of the evening discussing whether a practicing Anglican can reject a literal belief in Jesus or the concept of Christ. It’s great coffee talk, but it was academic; it wasn’t an emotional discussion about what I would do in a similar situation or dilemma.

It felt like the story was forced upon the ideas and the characters were developed from arguments and points of view. This may well be the aim of Gordon’s work, but it left his characters lacking in complexity and making decisions that were consistent with the argument, rather than the character.

Nonetheless, director Marion Potts breaks down most of the rhetoric and tells the story with warmth and passion. The most moving moments occurred when there was no dialogue and the characters were able to show us what they were really feeling. Hazlehurst is especially stunning when she reacts to a very long monologue at a grave side.

The casting is perfect. Hazlehurst and Lipson are joined by Grant Cartwright and Leah Vandenberg and each brings a complexity and emotional life to their character that isn’t evident in the writing.

Adam Gardnir is on his way to being one of the must have designers in the country and Grace is his first main stage design for the MTC. The design initially seems quite obvious and practical, but as the story unfolds, it shows its suggestiveness, and ultimately reveals its symbolism and complexity.

Grace is well worth seeing for the calibre of the creative team. Its writing is sure to encourage many discussions, but would be so much more powerful if it could break free from its own restraints and create a world not so strictly governed by text book debate.

This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com.

Golden Valley

Golden Valley
Perilous Productions
11 January 2009
Northcote Town Hall

In 1982, Dorothy Hewett’s Golden Valley won the Australia Writers’ Guild Augie award for best children’s script. Perilous Productions bring this Australian fairy tale to the stage for its first professional Melbourne production since 1985.

Director Suzanne Chaundy says, “Let’s make theatre for the young that is every bit as complex and developed as other main stage productions.” Anyone, young or not-so-young, who has sat though a kids show bored to tears, has to agree. I’ve never understood why some companies and performers think that young audiences will accept sub-standard shows and it’s exciting to see a holiday production that respects its audience and lets them engage in a complete theatre experience without a hint of condescension.

Golden Valley is a fairy tale set in the Australian bush with authentic and recognisable Aussie characters. The good guys are good, the bad guy is bad enough to create a couple “I’m scared” whimpers, and the everychild protagonist, Marigold, has faults, faces a series of challenges, is helped by adults and some natural magic, but ultimately saves the day by herself – and grows up a little bit more in the process.

Symbolism fills the poet’s script, with various layers of significance evident beyond the immediate story. This complexity is not necessary for the basic story, but the tale wouldn’t live so vividly without it. Fairy tales that have been simplified to just the superficial story are never as enjoyable or powerful.

Detail and complexity continue onto the stage. From the gorgeous collage-style design to the offstage live music and warm performances, Golden Valley is a delight.

There are only a few performances left, so don’t let young theatre buffs miss Marigold’s adventure.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.

Melbourne 2008 - What I Liked

The 2008 AussieTheatre Melbourne Awards

There are no shiny trophies, no need to frock up and no one semi-famous to read out the nominations. In fact, there’s no prize at all, except knowing that this is the remarkable work that has inspired me over the last 12 months.

Theatre in Melbourne: even if I could go out every night, I would still miss something worth seeing.

Overall, I wish I wasn’t disappointed by so many commercial productions and wish that people who see commercial shows would also take a chance on the small, independent productions. It’s always going to be hit and miss, but this is where the best theatre continues to be created and it hurts knowing that it’s only seen by a lucky few.

That’s not to say it’s all been good, but it isn’t hard to remember the great stuff. These artists and companies challenge with their content, re-invent form, respect the intelligence of their audiences, and refuse to be bland. Some of them were visiting us from interstate and overseas, but most of this incredible theatre has been created here in Melbourne.

Before the drum roll, let me thank Jo, David, Laura, Karla, Kim and John (the wonderful team of Melbourne reviewers for Aussie Theatre) for their knowledge, their passion, their style and their from-the-heart opinions.

And thank you to everyone who lets us know that you appreciate reading what we have to say.

Outstanding Artists 2008

WRITER
Adam Cass for Oasis Oasis
and
Sarah Collins for Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens in Toowoomba. (Ever)

DIRECTOR
Benedict Andrews for Moving Target, Malthouse Theatre
and
Yvonne Virsik for Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens in Toowoomba. (Ever)

DESIGNER
Anna Tregloan for Venus and Adonis, Malthouse Theatre

SOUND DESIGNER
David Franzke for Venus and Adonis, Malthouse Theatre

LIGHTING DESIGNER
Paul Jackson for Moving Target, Malthouse Theatre

NEVER TO BE MISSED CREATOR/PERFORMER – female
Melissa Madden Grey,  Venus and Adonis, Malthouse Theatre and Vamp, Malthouse Theatre

NEVER TO BE MISSED CREATOR/PERFORMER – male
Daniel Kitson, The Ballad of Roger and Grace  and The Impotent Fury of the Privileged

FESTIVAL DIRECTOR
Kristy Edmunds for her final, unforgettable Melbourne International Arts Festivals.

Outstanding Productions 2008

CABARET
Reuben Krum's Naughty Show, Reuben Krum
and
A Suicide for Winter , The Tiger Lillies
and
Lea Delaria is Naked, Lea Delaria

MUSICAL
Spontaneous Broadway

COMMERCIAL PROGRAM
Blackbird, Melbourne Theatre Company

DANCE
Three, Batsheva Dance Company

COMEDY
Sammy J In The Forest Of Dreams
and
Cell Block Booty, Sisters Grimm

THE BEST OF THE BEST
Ollie and the Minotaur, foogle and 9minds
and
An Oak Tree, Tim Crouch/Melbourne International Arts Festival
and
Romeo and Juliet, OKT/ Melbourne International Arts Festival


The show that will stay with me from 2008 is:

The Ballad of Roger and Grace, Daniel Kitson and Gavin Osborn

(2012 update: Buy the ballad here.)


This story originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.

This is set in the future

This is set in the future
La Mama
December 2008

This is set in the future is a traditional Christmas tale of blood, cum and karma, complete with a pseudo Santa resplendent in a tight frock contemplating an even tighter noose. The publicity did say it was more festy than festive…

Glyn Roberts’s not-so-cheery tale explores the not-too-distant future where we could live forever. Will folk get up to acts of selfless good and create heartfelt joy? Not with Robert Reid directing.

As always, director Reid (theatre in decay) hides his hope behind a large wall of cynicism. He despairs in his program notes that Melbourne theatre has “gotten ever so samey”. Melbourne’s independent theatre would be a duller place without Reid and I’m not alone in my gladness that he is determined to produce original work.

With Sayraphim Lothian’s spot-on design and a cast of competitive alphas (Scott Gooding, Rachel Baring, Hayley Butcher, Joshua Cameron and writer Glyn Roberts), Reid guides the delightfully-dark script into a place where even the Christmas-cracker jokes would need a PGR rating.

There’s not much left in this future world beyond “fuck or punch”. It sets out to shock and this is where I think it just missed the mark. There were some moments where it could have gone somewhere very nasty and interesting, or somewhere even more outrageously, hilariously obscene – but I felt that the brakes were applied and what could have been jaw-dropping black was simply taken back to joke. They were good jokes, but didn’t have the expected effect.

It might have just been final night excitement, but the cast were enjoying the fun a little bit too much. The impact of having the crap beaten out of you is dulled if the actors make it clear that it’s meant to be funny. There’s no shock in “incest is the new gay” if it’s being said to create a nervous audience titter. The comic book style of performance was perfect for the script, but we needed to see more of the fascinating characters, rather than the terrific actors, because the telling of their story was lost. We were watching to see what the performers would do next, rather than what would happen next.

Reid declares that we shouldn’t “expect meaning from people paid to fake it”. It was clear that everyone involved in This is set in the future understood every nuance of meaning, but they could have shared their meaning just a little bit more with the audience.

This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Short and Sweet 08 Week 3 Wildcards

Short and Sweet 2008 Week 3 Wildcards
20 December 2008
The Arts Centre, Fairfax Theatre

The final ten Short and Sweet Wildcards concluded the annual three-week 10 minute theatre fest. As with week three’s Top 20, they were undercooked and left a slightly bitter aftertaste.

Unready scripts aside, relationship is my issue de jour. To some extent, every piece suffered from this fundamental problem. In his must-read book 'Audition' Michael Shurtleff says, “Creating relationship is the heart of acting. It is basic. It is essential.” Relationship is also the heart of great writing. If there is no emotional, meaningful relationship with the people on the stage, the scene will always feel false and fall flat. Too many times, I had no idea what the relationships were between the characters. Without a sense of relationship, there’s no reason for characters to talk to each other, let alone a reason for us to care what happens to them. It doesn’t need to be explicit on the stage, but it needs to be in the writing and in the performances.

The Bullfrog was one of the better pieces, with a terrific ending, but needed to develop the characters further and develop a relationship between them. Did she fancy him? Did he fancy her? Did they even know the others names?

Little Star, Ticking Clock, Thankyou My Pongpat, Facing Away and even To Let all suffered from the same problem. These were all plays about couples, so there was plenty of material to work with.

The Russian Bride told an exposition story well, but I think it would have been more powerful if the guard had his own journey and character arc within the piece. As it was, it may have worked better as a monologue.

Genre Bender must have started life as an impro exercise and didn’t develop much further. Funny costumes do not create purpose or character.

The Mercy Kitchen was written well, but let down with the direction. We all know that if a gun appears on a stage, it’s going to be shot. Well, this is a play about swallowing poison and there were many props and a lot of action about cups of tea... We knew what was going to happen far too early, and it was too easy to predict the cup swapping.

The Cellar Children started life at the 48 Hour Play Generator and is still delightfully creepy.

Maybe Short and Sweet needs a year off to re-invigorate. The independent companies were fabulous, but the competition didn’t do justice to the theatrical talent of this town.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.

Short and Sweet 08 Week 3 Top 20

Short and Sweet 2008 Week 3 Top 20
17 December 2008
The Arts Centre, Fairfax Theatre

The opportunity and support given to theatre makers by the Short and Sweet festival is incomparable and over the last four years, the festival has offered some of the most memorable moments on the Fairfax stage. So I’m not sure what’s going on this year.

With the exception of the independent companies last week, it’s clear that the more experienced level of local writers, actors and directors aren’t involved to the extent they have been in the past. This is opening the door for many people, but the lack of experience is really showing, and I really don’t understand how nine out of the ten short plays presented this week made it to the top 20.

Ernest Hemingway famously said, “The first draft of anything is shit.” Too many of these works felt like first drafts. The ideas were great, their synopses were tempting, and the words-in-a-good-order writing was there, but they didn’t tell engaging, authentic stories. They just weren’t ready. It felt like a painting by numbers, but half of the colours were missing in the pallet and replaced with beige.

A script (short, long, stage or screen) isn’t an opportunity for a writer to rant or detail their opinion. It’s up to a writer to demonstrate their views by showing us what complex characters do when their world changes.

A character who is just expressing the writer’s opinion sounds like a badly written pamphlet. Black Eyed Susan was an exceptionally well directed and original breast cancer brochure, but it didn’t sound or feel like a story.

Some began or ended in the wrong spot. Falling, Praying would have been fabulous if it started as they jumped; the back story wasn’t necessary. Blue was beautifully structured and had a moment where it could have ended with emotion and left us wondering, but it kept going. Audiences are clever beasts who don’t need to be led to the very end.

Birdmonster and Permanently Engaged were tight and hilarious short sketches that were stretched out to ten minutes without adding more to the joke.

Legends and the Fall needed some sense of legend/myth/hero to give it the oomph and complexity it seemed to be aiming for. As Love and Light could have followed through with its metaphysical themes and used the ideas of ‘love’ and ‘light’ as more than just a joke.

Prime Angus Buttock and Alchemy relied on funny performances, rather than funny situations. A silly walk or a kooky voice only works when you’re a master of your craft and genre.

Luckily, Religion Shop saved the night. It began as a racially offensive and disrespectful piece of crap (and was I ready to rant myself) – then it turned on itself brilliantly. (And it included a metatheatre joke that made sense.) This is the kind of theatre that we expect from Short and Sweet.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.

Shane Warne: The Musical

Shane Warne: The Musical
Token Events and TrafficLight
11 December 2008
Athenaeum Theatre

I didn’t care for or about Shane Warne before the musical, and I still don’t, but Eddie Perfect can SMS me any time.

Perfect wrote this great Aussie musical and stars as its fallen hero. Being as Aussie as beetroot on a burger, Shane Warne: The Musical might not make a Broadway away tour, and it’s no good taking it to the West End, cos the poms will just whinge about it – but every Australian state, city and medium-sized country town deserves a leg of the tour.

We all know Warnie – he’s either the greatest spin bowler Australia’s yet to produce (don’t worry if you’re cricket illiterate, there’s a scene that explains that stuff) or he’s that twat who cheated on his missus, couldn’t give up smoking and was tempted by Indian bribes. Shane eventually grasps that these two parts of himself are connected, and is forced to accept, “I’ll never be captain, so I guess that’s that then”. He helped bring back the ashes, but his personal life ruined any chance he had of being a real hero.

Warnie’s the archetypal anti-hero, with his larrikin faults and inability to say no to temptation.  If Perfect and Co had pulverised him, it wouldn’t be fair to Shane; if they’d ignored his foibles, it wouldn’t be fair to us. Shane Warne: The Musical keeps hitting sixes with a remarkable balance of satire and celebration.

And, to be fair, it also takes the piss out of musical theatre, with numbers reminiscent of stage and screen favourites from Fame to Godspell to Sweeney Todd (it was “fucking beautiful” ) – and who knew AIS was even more fan to dance-spell than YMCA.

Warnie in song works so well because ultimately the jokes on us. Perfect makes us look at ourselves and how we all supported and created the spin around the spin. As the marketing chorus sing, “Everyone’s a little bit like Shane”. We can’t blame him for being just like us.

With a such an impressive creative team around Perfect – director Neil Armfield (demi-god of Australian directing), dramaturge Casey Benneto (Keating), choreographer Gideon Obarzanek (Chunky Move) and designer Brian Thomson (shows too numerous to mention, but this the design is reminiscent of his original Rocky Horror set) –  it would have been disappointing if Shane Warne: The Musical wasn’t this good. It proves that sometimes it’s a damn good idea to let those arty-farty types loose on a commercial show.

Perfect lives up to his name as Warne and it’s going to be interesting to see what happens when he’s had enough, as the show is very dependent on his appeal. The rest of the on-stage team are bonza, with Rosemarie Harris a standout as Simone.

Shane Warne: The Musical will become as legendary as its namesake. It’s not a celebration of Warne the cricketer or a gut-punch to Shane the man. It lets you laugh at him, laugh with him and ultimately cack yourself because his ridiculous, media-controlled, fame-driven life led to a Melbourne-based cabaret performer writing a musical all about it.


A note for patrons more used to stadiums
Last night there were a number of Warnie fans in the audience who didn’t get the concept of live theatre. It’s not like the MCG. Getting up in the middle of the first half (or “act”) and coming back into the theatre with beer for your mates isn’t acceptable “theatre” behaviour – and it just encouraged other blokes to do the same. Please wait for half time (or “interval”) and don’t do it again in the second half. Or, at least, come back with enough beers for the people sitting near you!



 This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Short and Sweet 08 Week 2 Indepedendent Theatre Ensembles

Short and Sweet 2008 Week 2 Indepedendent Theatre Ensembles
10 December 2008
The Arts Centre, Fairfax Theatre

After a week of stewed tea and too much supermarket White Christmas, Short and Sweet Week Two is like a fresh espresso and a homemade chocolate ganache tart.
 
There’s a rumour floating around that the Independent Theatre section of Short and Sweet is going to be removed. NO! This week’s selection sent the program flying back up to inspiring, dizzying heights.
 
This selection of short plays was not about writers proving their vocab, but about using theatre to tell us wonderful tales. They filled the whole space with movement, dance, music, sound and design to tell their dramatic, intriguing and unique stories. Words are one of the greatest things ever invented, but theatre is not just about words.
 
After the Tower
The Town Bikes are always super-fab, and it would seem that they’ve found the ideal director in Maude Davey. From their arse-talking entry to the collapsing of the Rapunzel’s long hair, the Brothers Grimm would be thrilled to see such a delightfully-dark telling of this story.
 
Grimm
The brothers G may well be dancing an after-life jig, because Company 13 were also inspired by a fairy tale - the one about Snow White and her mum. With pig noses, an accordion and song, this was a most original telling and interpretation.
 
Bodybag
The afterlife is always a very popular Short and Sweet theme. Itch Productions explored the celebrity death, with Marilyn Monroe visiting a nearly-famous actor who is “dying to be an icon”. Does he choose a posthumous Oscar or a sad career?
 
Last Drinks
Telia Neville (interior theatre) continues her fascinating exploration of the everyday. Without words or sound, five characters repeat what looks like a meeting at a bar. As the audience find their own meaning in the repetition, words and sound are added to give us a better picture - but all we hear are their thoughts. Telling it from a different perspective makes the most mundane situation an irresistible tale.
 
Morbid Porn
Sexy and just a little bit morbid, Skite Vikingr tell a story of love, lust, desire and rejection that fluidly links performer and puppet.
 
6 Hours Later
Hilarious, engaging, beautiful - watching Born in a Taxi is as wonderful as watching a litter of excited kittens explore a new room.
 
Tinsel Town
Split Second’s murder, mystery and horror story started funny and got funnier. From the Shelley’s chatting after dinner to Dracula floating on skates - and all with live sound FX. Why use a digital file when you can have a bloke breaking plates and blowing bubbles in a glass.
 
Tea for Two
Dislocate’s story is black, funny and brilliant. From stillness to did-they-really-just-do-that acrobatics, this is the kind of theatre you can’t look away from.
 
Finding Your Place
The Hounds kept us laughing (so that’s how a dishwasher moves), but the telling wasn’t clear. Now I’ve read the program, I see that it’s about Alzheimer’s – which I didn’t get when I watching it. I thought it was about writers who love the safety of their own fiction.
 
Match
Penelope Bartlau’s Barking Spider Visual Theatre wonderfully and literally construct a malleable universe. The two characters try to sort out their own relationship, while creating a small and messy parallel world from lumps of clay. This is great stuff.

This review originally appeard on AussieTheatre.com.

Short and Sweet 08 Week 1 Wildcards

Short and Sweet 2008 Week 1 Wildcards
7  December 2008
The Arts Centre, Fairfax Theatre

The hit and miss nature of the Short and Sweet wildcards is always their appeal. This week presented a couple of beautifully written stories about dying, too many that started and ended with stereotypes and, for the first time ever, one that I found offensive.

Generally, there was a concentration on form, forsaking the joy of story. I have a sticky note on my desk that reads, “Drama is conflict and change”. It’s what I look for in a story. Too many of these plays ended exactly where they started, even if they managed some conflict.

It is petty thing to mention, but too many of these afternoon delights were directed to the centre seats. The Fairfax space lacks any proscenium pretention, so you have to direct to the whole room. I was sitting on the side and could barely see the action in half of the offerings.

Job Specs
It appears that women with great breasts will always be the secretary in office sketches. We knew the entire story from the start and the telling was an office jargon email list and a couple of good jokes – but they were good jokes. It was a tale about cock-sure gen Ys. Well I may be just a cunt-unsure not-quite-gen-X, but I wouldn’t have hired either of them.

Nightmares and Daydreams
Delightfully performed, original and well written, but why did the director have to scream the ending to us so early? If she’s in heels and a frock, and rubber gloves and a pinny, we know she’s cleaning up a big mess. The script might also benefit from developing the dream lover character more – let us know why he’s so great.

A Time For Everything
A delicately written and moving piece played with a balance of love and humour, with a story that flowed at the right pace and ended at the perfect moment. The direction and performances could have come down a level but they would have settled had there been more than one performance.

The Park
Original and fun, with a promising premise about waking up in a dream and meeting some dream critters. However, I don’t know why they were animals – were they allegorical, metaphorical, archetypal, symbolic or just there so the actors could use their “be an animal” acting class skills?

Pinot Noir Noir
There isn’t an award for best title, but there should be! Some terrific jokes and slick telling hid the lack of story well.

The Dinner
It would have been worse being stuck next to these people at a restaurant, but it would also be easier to leave. Clichés, stereotypes and only-seen-on-US-made-for-tv-movies-about-oztrailia accents. Oh, and I’d almost forgotten how offensive it is to see a women presented like that. Seriously – it might have worked if they’d brought a blow up doll onto the stage – because at least it might have resembled irony.

Quality Control
Making fun of bogans at yoga is always fun. It was a cool sketch with lots of laughs, but I’m not sure what their story was.

Love Your Poison
Another well written work that told a complete story, developed complex characters, went beyond the obvious, kept some mystery and ended at the right time.

Prisoners’ Dilemma
It ended with the same question it began with, but it did make the audience try to answer the question for themselves. The direction needed to decide if it was comedy or drama though, as some actors played for the angst and others just for the giggles. The result was murky grey, rather than black.

Trevor’s Epiphany
If Trevor had an epiphany, I missed it.

This review originally apearred on AussieTheatre.com.