Review: Group Show

Group Show
MKA
21 March 2013
Northcote Town Hall
to 30 March 2013
Facebook event 

MKA have to have a dud; it’s natural that their streak of you-remind-me-why-I-love-theatre shows ends eventually, but it isn’t with Group Show.


Now in their third year, this company – who still have no funding or formal financial support – have consistently been critically raved about and developed an audience who wouldn’t give a toss if they read a negative word about the company. There’s no one around like them and I try not to miss anything they do because I don’t want to miss the writers, directors, designers and performers who are reminding us why we get so frustrated with boring shows.

Group Show is a series of short plays by new writers. It’s six performers, five writers, two directors and a designer who I’d not heard of. Every one of them is now on my see-what-they-do-next list.

The writers were commissioned for Group Show because MKA “felt that Melbourne needed to know about these writers now, right now.” It’s a bold statement, but, yep, we need to know about them because each one wrote something unexpected and interesting. Interesting is a catch-all-and-nothing word that means so little, but think of it as the opposite of boring. Some of the writing could benefit from a polish, but none were dull and all five writers left me wanting to see a full work from them.

Nakkiah Lui is already making herself known in Sydney as associate playwright in residence at Belvoir and as an Emerging Culture Leader at Griffin. Her work is sexually and racially confronting and bloody hilarious. She’s dramaturging for the Sisters Grimm’s MTC show later this year and I can’t think of anyone better for the task.

Leila Rodgers is a graduate actor from VCA and her play marks her debut as a writer. She writes beautifully for actors and if this is her first piece, I can’t wait to see her twentieth.

Bridget Mackey is competing her Masters in Writing for Performance at VCA and has worked a lot in Adelaide. Her ghost story was genuinely creepy and reminded me so much of living in a haunted house in Adelaide that I wonder if she also lived there.

Chloe Martin studied writing in Melbourne and is currently at the Ecole Jacques Lecoq in Paris. Her writing comes from a place that’s difficult to settle into, but it’s so very funny that its oddness quickly becomes a wonderful new normal.

Maxine Mellor, from Queensland, is the most experienced of the writers with over 20 plays. She recently won a Queensland Premier’s Drama Award and a residency with Edward Albee in New York in 2012. If Albee likes her, who am I to say that anything different? Her writing draws on the absurd and is infused with the kind of heart that makes you need her characters to win.

And that’s just the writers!

Directors Prue Clark and Luke Kerridge have studied directing at VCA and I suspect that they’ve sat through a lot of very boring short-play seasons (I know I have). Their direction of Group Show is, without doubt, the best direction of a short-play season that I’ve seen. They created a world that seemed made for each of the very-different works and is so funny and fascinating that the change-over moments between each play are as good as the plays.

And the direction worked perfectly with the multi-door design by Lucy Thornett (another VCA student) whose use of colour and shape made the square Northcote Town Hall room as exciting as any of the pop-up spaces MKA have used.

Finally there are the six actors: Aaron Walton, Annabel Marshall-Roth, Amy Jones, Alex McQueen, Devon Lang Wilton and Ryan Jones. They all grasped the different tones of each work and of the night overall, and let us into the hearts of characters who could have easily been dismissed or disliked. I have no doubt that each will earn their own rave sometime in the near future.

Group Show is on at the Northcote Town Hall until 30 March. See it to get to know a bunch of creators who are going to be filling our stages in the coming years, or to be reminded that short plays can, and should, be wonderful.

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.

March review previews

My internet is still dodgy, I'm still surrounded by boxes and my goal to set up my office this afternoon wasn't achieved, but I have washed my hair, slapped on makeup and have made it back to the theatre this week.

Group Show
MKA
21 March 3013
Northcote Town Hall
to 30 March

MKA's Group Show is MKA's version of a short play season and it's the best night of short plays I've seen. Really.

Review to come, but don't wait because this is great stuff.

Here's the review.


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

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.

MORE

I'm not dead

Good grief, it has been a while. I've missed you all.

Something had to go during the semi-hell of eviction, house finding, packing, moving and cleaning – and that something was theatre.

I've missed so much, but you really wouldn't have wanted me there because I would have been wearing my moving trackie pants and t-shirt and it's best that we never discuss the state of my hair at the moment (let's just say, I now know what my natural colour is.)

Ten years of mess was something to clean, and according to to what came off the floor, my gorgeous deco flat near St Kilda was held together by 5c coins and black spiders. I knew I had lots of Daddy Long Legs (and like them), but am amazed that anyone survived a night there after discovering who was really at home in the cracks.

I still have a bit to do (and some real work) and have to deal with the unpacking, but next week I'll be back. Meanwhile the computer hasn't made it into the office (boxes) and I've yet to sleep in the bedroom (boxes and piles of clothes). If anyone is running a book on how long it takes me to unpack, I'd start at two months.

And THANK YOU x millions to my friends who helped with car loads, hugs and didn't comment on how I looked over the last couple of weeks.

PS: I'm no longer an inner-city, south-side, latte drinking wanker. I'm now an urban bayside, suburban, latte drinking wanker who lives in Zone 2; I'm beyond the tram zone and have to catch the Frankson train.

Apologies and White Night

I haven't fallen off a cliff, it just feels like it.

Grovelly apologies to the shows I've seen in the last week or so and not reviewed. They've all been wonderful and deserve oodles of praise that I haven't been able to turn into words.

There are stories of colonies of artists and friends who live in amazing old buildings around St Kilda where all the neighbours like each other and feed each other's cats. I've been lucky enough to have made my 10-year Melbourne home in one of these amazing places, but my whole block was evicted last week. Apparently long-term tenants (15, 10, 9 and 8 years) isn't as good as renovating.

The critical writing part of my brain has seeped out with the tears, but I'm hoping to find it soon, along with a two-bedroom (or one with study) flat near the beach and public transport.

In the meantime:

Constellations at the MTC is the best thing I've seen from the MTC. Can't rave enough.

4000 Miles at Red Stitch is lovely and really worth seeing.

Tubular Bells was only on at the Melbourne Recital Centre for one night and I loved it to retro pieces.

Love Me Tender at Theatre Work is beautiful. Tom Holloway's writing is like music.

And, if you haven't been into Melbourne the city yet tonight, head in now for White Night, the all night arts event that has surpassed all expectations.

I walked through at 9.30 and have never seen so many people in the city. It was amazing and if I didn't have a bloody 9 am start tomorrow, I'd be there until the 7am finish.

Mini review: Hair

MIDSUMMA 2013
Hair
StageArt
9 February 2013

It may be impossible to not get caught up in the cast's infectious enthusiasm for Hair. From the lollies and condoms that come with the program to the hippyesque love that greets everyone at the door, it's a love fest of joy.  But neither direction nor design give a contemporary view of this very political piece of theatre or place it firmly in the context of protesting the war in Vietnam in the 60s and 70s. Given it's created and performed by people the same age as those facing the draft in Hair, that it's about a war that had an incredible impact on Australian culture, and it's presented in a city that helped to stop the draft in Australia with the Monatorium protests, there's so much material that could shape a piece that speaks to and about 2013.  For all its love, Hair fails to celebrate or share an understanding of those who rejected the idea of killing for their country or tell the story from the point of view of that generation's grandchildren.

Mini review: Not a very good story

not a very good story

La Mama

10 February 2013

La Mama

to 10 February

Not a very good story IS a very good story with a very good title for an exceptionally good show. I didn't see it until the last night, but there's talk of new seasons and tours.

Written and performed by May Jasper, awkward Stephanie isn't immediately likeable, but works though her self-consciousness to tell us what happened when she was working the late shift at a call centre and what she did to try to save the people who gave her a grasp at hope and happiness.

She doesn't lay blame or completely understand why things went so wrong, but Jasper's beautiful writing lets the audience see the bigger picture and feel the extra anger and pain that we hope Stephanie can't.  The gently-paced script reveals its secrets only when it has to and its poignant ending is placed so delicately that it feels like it might shatter at the final applause.

Music review: Miles and Simone

Miles and Simone
Valentine's tour
9 Feb 2013
Spiegeltent, Arts Centre Melbourne
milesandsimone.com
facebook page

I've had a bit of a crush on Miles and Simone since they released their first CD, Home in Your Heart, last year, but on Saturday I watched a full Spiegeltent fall completely in love with this too gorgeous Melbourne duo.

Simone Page Jones wears an extra frilly dress with a floral print, red tulle and black tassels. She bought it in Barcelona in the hope that one day she'd wear it in the Spiegeltent. The only thing stopping her from floating off the stage in happiness is the the grounding influence of Miles O'Neil, who (even with fluffy ginger thighs) continues to re-define hipster op-shop style with a cream jacket that makes the 60s Vegas Rat Pack look uncool.

And they sing.

A Black Velvet cocktail has a base of rich stout that's topped with a crisp and sweet fizz and served in a curvy flute.  I have no idea how anyone thought these drinks should mix and make something quite perfect, but they do and it's like how Miles's chocolaty deep voice sounds so unexpectedly perfect with Simone's clear and sparkling sound – which isn't a like posh and over-priced Champagne, but more like a far better local wine with the kind of light sparkle that makes you smile with every sip.

Photo by Leila Koren

They talk like best friends and share stories about their songs with their besotted audience and each other, and I hope that they never lose the ability to surprise each other on stage. There's a song about a holiday in Apollo Bay, one set in a Fitzroy pub, songs about loves lost or run from, and now that I know Simone's song "Birdy" is about the galah that sits chained to a stand in a Bourke Street tobacco shop, I don't think I can listen without making sure that I go and give that bird a scratch.

With just Miles's guitar, their music is a little bit country, but with a loving and gentle sound that feels like they wrote them on an inner-city patch of grass on a perfect warm day. They remind me of the early 90s duets by the UK's The Beautiful South and their reminiscing tone is almost like The Go-Betweens "Cattle and Cane".

I took a friend who after two songs turned to me and said, "Do they have a CD? They're sublime." What more can I say. Miles and Simone are sublime.

You can buy Home in Your Heart here and they are launching the album in Sydney on Tuesday night at 8.30 at 107 Projects in Redfern (tickets at the door) and in Brisbane on Wednesday at 9.30 at the Brisbane Powerhouse (free).

More photos by Leila Koren

Review: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Tim Lawson
2 February 2012
Her Majesty's Theatre
to 17 March
chittychitty.com.au

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, the car, is terrific, and deserves her curtain call.  She's awesome and cost over a million dollars to make, but all that spit, polish and Turtle Wax can't make her script sparkle.

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, the show, is a shiny lemon that really shouldn't be compared to the other Sherman brothers musical Mary Poppins and neither should this production be compared to the recent Australian Poppins.

Most of its shine is from Antony Ward's delicious design that gloriously evokes memories of the film but is original and contemporary and filled with hidden detail and surprises.

The story is about an inventor Caractacus Potts, his two children and their potential new mum, called Truly Scrumptious, who all take a trip in their amazing flying car to a place called Vulgaria, which has a glittery Nazi-esque monarchy and a creepy dude called the Child Catcher. It's based on the 1968 film, written by Roald Dahl (!) and Ken Hughes, that's based on a children's story by Ian (007) Fleming. I haven't read the book, but watched the film as a child (and a bit now on You Tube) and I don't think it's fair to compare them either.

For all the delightfully mad characters, the clunky stage story is forced, lacks basic this-happened-because logic and structure, has an unearned and tensionless ending, and doesn't let its wonderful characters be particularly interesting or creative because the car solves their problems. It feels like scenes have been squished together in the hope that it'll create delicate layers, but it's more a trifley mess where the yummy bits get lost in too much globby custard made from powder, no-fat milk and forgettable songs (apart from the ear-worm title song) that don't move the story or reveal anything new.

If anyone dares huff and say that kids don't care about these things, I suggest that you spend more time with children, read some children's books and watch kids when they watch theatre or films, or pick the scrummy bits out of a globby trifle. Kids near me were snoozing by the end, but my favourite moment was a little boy's declaration of "that's not funny". I'm with you, kid. It wasn't funny and I think people were only laughing to be polite.

It's certainly not the performers fault that it's a dud script.

All the children are especially terrific. I used to love watching children perform when I was a child and my best recommendation to see this is to let kids you know be inspired by other kids. It's just a shame that they have to play such goody-goodies who get out of trouble because they have a magic car rather than by planning ingenious mischief.

The comic characters bring genuine comic relief and, even in scenes that slow the story (what's with the Samba?), are a hoot. George Kapiniaris and Todd Goddard as Vulgarian spies are popular with the kids, and grown ups will always groan at King Alan Brough and Queen Jennifer Vuletic's sexy royal shenanigans.

Rachel Beck is truly lovely as Truly, Peter Carroll is a delight as Grandpa Potts and David Hobson can sure sing, but lacks the love and appeal that should make every kid want Caractacus Potts as their dad, inspire all dads and uncles to be like him, and make the audience understand why Truly fancies him.

When you have a script that isn't brilliant, it's up to the director (Roger Hodgman) and the cast to bring extra to the stage so that the faults are forgivable. It feels like it was directed scene by scene rather than as a whole and most of the cast could bring a bit more heart to make their characters and the world real. I have to compare it to the recent production of Annie. Now, Annie's script is far from a gem, but every person on the stage, from stars to swings, knew their place in that world and found the love in the most cringe-worthy scenes; in Chitty the cast know their cues and the ensemble know their chorey (except a pair in the Samba who were counting, or maybe chatting).

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang's not a perfect show to begin with, but there's enough creative talent involved to overcome its problems and make it something really scrumptious. And unless they do, there's nothing wrong with buying the DVD and reading your kids some Roald Dahl stories about wonderfully wicked children.

This was on AussieTheatre.com

Review: Silent

Silent
Fishamble, Arts Projects Australia
8 February 2012
The Lawler
to 10 February
mtc.com.au
artsprojects.com.au

Silent is another very short-run show that might be gone before everyone hears that they should see it. It finishes on Sunday, along with the remarkable Rape of Lucrece in the theatre next door.

Ireland's Fishamble company are all about new plays and writers (I love them already). Silent is written and performed by Pat Kinevane. He says that it's a chance for him to be grateful for every blessing because it could be him "lying against a post restaurant door". It won awards at the Edinburgh Festival and has toured the UK, Europe and the US.

Tino was named after Rudolph Valentino and he slips into the absurdly beautiful silent film style of his namesake to tell the story we've stopped to hear on a cold Dublin street.  Perhaps we dropped a coin without looking at him, perhaps we're looking for somewhere where we won't freeze tonight. Either way, we listen.

His story of homelessness starts with a childhood that could have been better, the suicide attempts of his brother (whose smile would "trump the smile of Jesus") and a slide into addiction and mental illness that lost him all of his "splendid things".  But it's not driven by what-ifs or if-onlys, but by a desperate need to speak with other people and break the unrelenting loneliness of having so little that you know that only 1 in 600 people will even look at you as they go by.

Kinevane is a compelling performer who lets us know that Tino knows we're still made uncomfortable by the sight of him. And his script creates Tino's world with witnesses who will never know his story and plants its ending so gently that it doesn't make us ask the right question until it's too late. It's beautiful writing.

Having toured and been polished, it suffers slightly from not being in a small intimate venue because empty seats and a large stage the create the space for audience to escape into, but it takes nothing away from the work that's full of the kind of hope that hurts as much as it supports.


FREE tickets for this are still available if you join Little Birdy Tix.

Fresh Air Festival: BEST FUN EVER!

Fresh Air Festival
Pop Up Players, Federation Square
8 February 2013
The Edge, Federation Square
to 10 February
Saturday and Sunday: 1.00–4.00 and 6.00–9.00

popupplayground.com.au
Facebook page

All weekend, the totally wonderful and gorgeous Pop Up Players (who created This is a Door) invite everyone to play at the Fresh Air Festival: the International Festival of street games and constructive play.

It started tonight (Friday) and runs through to Sunday. And it's all FREE.

I played Chuck a Barbie, well that's what I called the Hummingbird Rally game.

BEST FUN EVER!

And there are lots of other games: some crafty, some physical, some about being clever, some about luck, some about being a superhero and all about having fun. They are inside Fed Square in The Edge and outside in the square. They are for every age and it's not possible to not have fun.

Twitter: the good and the trollish

I've been on Twitter for a while now and finally beginning to really understand how it works.

Facebook is my friend, but I hadn't bonded with Twitter.

Last Friday, I spent some extra time there and it made me so angry that I burst out of my nice theatre-lady guise and became a screaming femmo leftie troll.

It started with a link to a  Sydney Morning Herald  piece titled: "Female enemy number one – other women?".  I'm not linking it because the outburst it created made it the top story on all of the online Fairfax papers by Saturday.

The day ended with Bernard Gaynor telling mamamia.com.au's Mia Freedman about being a good parent. Here, but it's vile and ignorant. This discussion started with a tweet from Gaynor saying that he "wouldn't let a gay person teach my children".  He calls people evil. Evil. He uses the word "evil". He hides behind his faith and values to call people who are not like him evil. I'd like to say that it left me unable to speak. Nup, it made me tweet.

On Saturday, I decided that Twitter made me angry and wasted too much of my time*, which isn't worth the new followers.

The result was restricting my Tweeting to theatre, leaving me free to see things like this:

The reviews are tweets, some not even using the full 140 characters. (OK, so I blogged as well, but it was the tweeting and re-tweeting that got the attention.) And @katiemelb is not the only one.

My decision maker to see The Rape of Lucrece was @alisoncroggon's tweet.

There was a gorgeous glut of love and support for the show generated by these tweets and to see proof that it results in more ticket sales makes me smile.

Random "it was cool" tweets won't get bums into empty seats, but if the tweeps have earned the trust or respect of their followers – by using more than a handful of words in other mediums – Twitter's WOM (word of mouth) is fast.

Theatre companies and festivals still don't use Twitter very well, but as WOT becomes more important this will change very quickly and I'm going to stay in the twitterverse.

Whether I can keep my femmo leftie troll under control is still to be seen.

Who am I kidding? She rocks and will continue to follow, reply to and re-tweet the glorious likes of @HelenRazer and @vanbadham.

And theatre lovers, please start with @Jadedhackeroo, @MelbourneArts, @richardthewatts, @alisoncroggon and @johnbonbailey.

* Then I watched QANDA on Monday night, smart-arse phone in hand ...

Gush: The Rape of Lucrece

The Rape of Lucrece
Royal Shakespeare Company, Arts Projects Australia
6 February 2013
Sumner Theatre
to 10 February
mtc.com.au
artsprojects.com.au

I saw The Rape of Lucrece tonight. I'm still shaking.

It's harrowing and exquisite and I am completely and utterly in love with Camille O'Sullivan and Feargal Murray.

And Melbourne only has four more chances to see it.

Taking the Shakespeare poem and creating a "play with songs", it was developed by the new Royal Shakespeare Company studio in 2011 and won awards at the 2012 Edinburgh Fringe.

I haven't read the poem. But, umm, wow. A poem told from the perspective of the rapist and the woman he raped. What is says about guilt and eternity left me with a lump in my soul that might not fade.

It's performed by Camille O'Sullivan. Why has no one dragged me to see her when she's been in Melbourne? She may the most watchable creature to ever grace a stage. She had me from the moment she opened her mouth to speak; then she sang.

It felt like the whole audience breathed in together and didn't look away until the last of the extended curtain calls.

Forget what she sounds like (but it's like a hand-made chocolate filled with chilli ganache and sharp honey-nut praline crisps), her voice comes from her heart and she sings with an emotion that comes from somewhere so deep and personal that it feels like every word was written for her.

And she's accompanied by pianist and her musical partner Feargal Murray, who developed the piece with her and director Elizabeth Freestone. A brilliant accompanist almost disappears and become an extension of the singer. He is brilliant.

I wasn't on a review ticket, so that's enough and I'm free to gush.

But SHAME MELBOURNE SHAME that there were so many empty seats. A half-empty theatre! I'm embarrassed that this incredible city isn't lining up for this show. You will love it, Melbourne. I know what else is on in town; this is the choice to make.

Song from the show: reverbnation.com.


To make it easier lasttix.com.au/melbourne have half price tickets.

Here's Joanna Bowen's review on AT