Mostly Melbourne theatre reviews
27 February 2015
Email fuck up
Apologies if you've been trying to email me. The SM account was forwarded to another address and Outlook considers this as being inactive so was returning emails. Grrr. If I didn't get back to you, all is working again now.
Review: In The Heights
In The Heights
StageArt
20 February 2015
Chapel off Chapel
to 8 March 2015
stageart.com.au
In The Heights won the Best Musical Tony in 2008. Melbourne independent company StageArt presents the Australian premiere and it's an absolute winner. It nails the tone of a show that's rooted in New York, shows how to cast place-specific pieces, and explodes with amazing talent.
With music and lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda (who also starred in the Broadway production), its first professional production was in 2005, it was on off-Broadway in 2007 and on Broadway from 2008 to 2011. It won more a few more Tonys, a couple of Drama Desk Awards and a Grammy, and was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama.
Set in the mostly-Latino area of Washington Heights in New York, it's the story of Usnavi (Stephen Lopez), who still runs the tiny bodega (corner store) his immigrant parents bought and dreams of returning to the Dominican Republic. What keeps him there is no money, his young cousin (Andrew Doyle), his adopted abuela (Francesca Arena) and the hope that local girl Vanessa (Bianca Baykara) might notice that she never has to pay for her coffee. Meanwhile, the Rosario family (Clarence Marshall and Bianca Bruce) are dealing with the loss of their taxi business when their daughter (Anna Francesca Armenia) drops out of Standford and falls for their non-Latino employee (James Elmer), and the local unisex salon is moving to the Bronx and taking staff (Laura Marcucci and Sarah Calsina) are going with it. Too much is changing when Usnavi finds out that someone in the neighbourhood has won $96 000 in the lottery.
The book, by Quiara AlegrÃa Hudes, works out a bit too easily, but it's overcome by the music and the undying passion for the place and people that created it.
The cast, also including Peter Sette, Gareth Jacobs and an awesome ensemble, and the off-stage band are simply sensational. There are some rough edges and over-earnest moments, but there isn't a weak link on the stage as everyone pours heart, understanding and energy into a work that they obviously love.
James Culter's direction keeps the story on track and the characters real, and Cameron Thomas's musical direction lets the music beat the emotion of every song (from Latin to Hip-Hop to Rap) and develops very good sound in the notoriously-difficult Chapel off Chapel theatre. Meanwhile, Yvette Lee's choreography creates so much energy that it's a wonder the theatre stays grounded.
In The Heights could fill a much bigger stage and venue, so take advantage of the relative intimacy of Chapel off Chapel. It's a show that is unlikely to get a commercial production in Australia, but if anyone's looking, this one is ready to go.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
StageArt
20 February 2015
Chapel off Chapel
to 8 March 2015
stageart.com.au
 |
| Stephen Lopez. In the HEights. Photo by Belinda Strodder. |
In The Heights won the Best Musical Tony in 2008. Melbourne independent company StageArt presents the Australian premiere and it's an absolute winner. It nails the tone of a show that's rooted in New York, shows how to cast place-specific pieces, and explodes with amazing talent.
With music and lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda (who also starred in the Broadway production), its first professional production was in 2005, it was on off-Broadway in 2007 and on Broadway from 2008 to 2011. It won more a few more Tonys, a couple of Drama Desk Awards and a Grammy, and was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama.
Set in the mostly-Latino area of Washington Heights in New York, it's the story of Usnavi (Stephen Lopez), who still runs the tiny bodega (corner store) his immigrant parents bought and dreams of returning to the Dominican Republic. What keeps him there is no money, his young cousin (Andrew Doyle), his adopted abuela (Francesca Arena) and the hope that local girl Vanessa (Bianca Baykara) might notice that she never has to pay for her coffee. Meanwhile, the Rosario family (Clarence Marshall and Bianca Bruce) are dealing with the loss of their taxi business when their daughter (Anna Francesca Armenia) drops out of Standford and falls for their non-Latino employee (James Elmer), and the local unisex salon is moving to the Bronx and taking staff (Laura Marcucci and Sarah Calsina) are going with it. Too much is changing when Usnavi finds out that someone in the neighbourhood has won $96 000 in the lottery.
The book, by Quiara AlegrÃa Hudes, works out a bit too easily, but it's overcome by the music and the undying passion for the place and people that created it.
The cast, also including Peter Sette, Gareth Jacobs and an awesome ensemble, and the off-stage band are simply sensational. There are some rough edges and over-earnest moments, but there isn't a weak link on the stage as everyone pours heart, understanding and energy into a work that they obviously love.
James Culter's direction keeps the story on track and the characters real, and Cameron Thomas's musical direction lets the music beat the emotion of every song (from Latin to Hip-Hop to Rap) and develops very good sound in the notoriously-difficult Chapel off Chapel theatre. Meanwhile, Yvette Lee's choreography creates so much energy that it's a wonder the theatre stays grounded.
In The Heights could fill a much bigger stage and venue, so take advantage of the relative intimacy of Chapel off Chapel. It's a show that is unlikely to get a commercial production in Australia, but if anyone's looking, this one is ready to go.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
23 February 2015
Review: Psychopomp & Seething
Psychopomp & Seething
Barking Spider Visual Theatre, MUST
18 February 2015
La Mama Courthouse
to 1 March 2015
lamama.com.au
Psychopomp & Seething begins by taking the audience on a ride in the La Mama Courthouse. It's not a hold on and scream ride, but you do move and it ends in pure darkness.
And it gets darker.
Seething, the first piece, opens with an older woman (Vanessa O'Neil) with long blond-grey hair in a sound booth with a red-velvet curtained wall. She's reading a poem that's easy to listen to as music rather than words. When a younger dancer (Kate Brennan), with a recently shaven head, comes into the empty space between the booth and audience, her presence feels slightly intrusive until it's clear that she's dancing to the words being spoken.
These are words about bodies and love and how we blame our bodies for being imperfect and not deserving of love. It's somehow comforting and confronting as the two woman are compared to but rely on each other.
The words are by Penelope Bartlau. Using the musical nature of words and poetry, it's writing that's meant to be heard rather than read, and the kind that you to listen to with far more than your ears. She says that the works come from a mix of dreams, her own experiences and the experiences of her friends. This blend of dream and reality makes for a familiar unease because even when we wake up, we hold the too-real emotional experience of our dreams, and that emotion is never too far from a wide-awake truth.
This becomes more evident in Psychopomp.
This piece was developed by Barking Spider at Monash University Student Theatre (MUST) last year. Directed and designed by Jason Lehane, who is also the MUST Technical Manager, the cast and crew are/were MUST members.
Recently, The Age published an opinion piece that associated student theatre with "young things running around with their underpants on their heads". I doubt that writer sees student theatre made in Melbourne. This is the second work in this year's La Mama program that was developed through MUST. Although often raw, the new theatre by students in this city (Deakin and Melbourne as much as Monash) is exciting and dangerous and is created with an understanding that theatre and storytelling are so much more than well-written words on a stage.
The stage in Psychopomp is a two by two square box. The first signs of life from the four boxes are noises that become the voices of four people, or animals.
Designer, and director, Jason Lehane has created a world that's distant but impossible not to be drawn into. While Seething uses the emptiness of the space, Psychopomp is confined and impossible to escape from. By boxing in the boxes and the audience, there's no where else to look and it's easy to imagine that this four are a few among endless unseen boxes.
Each box contains a teller who's compelled to tell their story. Captured in their own worlds, the intricate design (costume and set) and exquisite lighting hint at the contained secrets. There's a warm nest, a lush garden and two darker more-empty spaces that become vivid as imaginations fill in the un-lit horror.
Actors James Cerche, Nicola Grear, Aislinn Murray and Lindsay Templeton are the four storytellers. Each bring a remarkable emotional understanding to their stories. With writing that isn't a simple narrative and direction that ensure the wholeness of the picture, they bring all of themselves to their story while working together like a musical quartet to let their stories overlap with sound and meaning.
Psychopomp & Seething is a work that stays with you long after you've left. Being unsure where you are in a well-known space can be unnerving, and, as it's devised to be listened to as sound as much as words, it's easy to simply experience being there. But the truth of what was told will catch up with you because it's made to be seen and felt as much as heard.
There are limited seats for each performance and no room to expand, so book for this one. And, when the timing is right, also book for The Unspoken Word is Joe around the corner at the La Mama theatre.
This was on Aussietheatre.com.au.
Barking Spider Visual Theatre, MUST
18 February 2015
La Mama Courthouse
to 1 March 2015
lamama.com.au
 |
| Kate Brennan. Seething. Photo by Sarah Walker |
Psychopomp & Seething begins by taking the audience on a ride in the La Mama Courthouse. It's not a hold on and scream ride, but you do move and it ends in pure darkness.
And it gets darker.
Seething, the first piece, opens with an older woman (Vanessa O'Neil) with long blond-grey hair in a sound booth with a red-velvet curtained wall. She's reading a poem that's easy to listen to as music rather than words. When a younger dancer (Kate Brennan), with a recently shaven head, comes into the empty space between the booth and audience, her presence feels slightly intrusive until it's clear that she's dancing to the words being spoken.
These are words about bodies and love and how we blame our bodies for being imperfect and not deserving of love. It's somehow comforting and confronting as the two woman are compared to but rely on each other.
The words are by Penelope Bartlau. Using the musical nature of words and poetry, it's writing that's meant to be heard rather than read, and the kind that you to listen to with far more than your ears. She says that the works come from a mix of dreams, her own experiences and the experiences of her friends. This blend of dream and reality makes for a familiar unease because even when we wake up, we hold the too-real emotional experience of our dreams, and that emotion is never too far from a wide-awake truth.
This becomes more evident in Psychopomp.
 |
| Aislinn Murray. Psychopomp. Photo by Sarah Walker |
This piece was developed by Barking Spider at Monash University Student Theatre (MUST) last year. Directed and designed by Jason Lehane, who is also the MUST Technical Manager, the cast and crew are/were MUST members.
Recently, The Age published an opinion piece that associated student theatre with "young things running around with their underpants on their heads". I doubt that writer sees student theatre made in Melbourne. This is the second work in this year's La Mama program that was developed through MUST. Although often raw, the new theatre by students in this city (Deakin and Melbourne as much as Monash) is exciting and dangerous and is created with an understanding that theatre and storytelling are so much more than well-written words on a stage.
The stage in Psychopomp is a two by two square box. The first signs of life from the four boxes are noises that become the voices of four people, or animals.
Designer, and director, Jason Lehane has created a world that's distant but impossible not to be drawn into. While Seething uses the emptiness of the space, Psychopomp is confined and impossible to escape from. By boxing in the boxes and the audience, there's no where else to look and it's easy to imagine that this four are a few among endless unseen boxes.
Each box contains a teller who's compelled to tell their story. Captured in their own worlds, the intricate design (costume and set) and exquisite lighting hint at the contained secrets. There's a warm nest, a lush garden and two darker more-empty spaces that become vivid as imaginations fill in the un-lit horror.
Unaware of each other or the watching eyes, each tell a story about a death. And while they are beautiful to hear, they are mildly traumatic to feel.
Actors James Cerche, Nicola Grear, Aislinn Murray and Lindsay Templeton are the four storytellers. Each bring a remarkable emotional understanding to their stories. With writing that isn't a simple narrative and direction that ensure the wholeness of the picture, they bring all of themselves to their story while working together like a musical quartet to let their stories overlap with sound and meaning.
Psychopomp & Seething is a work that stays with you long after you've left. Being unsure where you are in a well-known space can be unnerving, and, as it's devised to be listened to as sound as much as words, it's easy to simply experience being there. But the truth of what was told will catch up with you because it's made to be seen and felt as much as heard.
There are limited seats for each performance and no room to expand, so book for this one. And, when the timing is right, also book for The Unspoken Word is Joe around the corner at the La Mama theatre.
This was on Aussietheatre.com.au.
20 February 2015
Review: The Flying Dutchman
The Flying Dutchman
Victorian Opera
14 February 2015
Palais Theatre
to 19 February
victorianopera.com.au
Opera at the magnificent sea-side Palais Theatre with the audience wearing 3D glasses! Victorian Opera are sure giving us a new look at Wagner's The Flying Dutchman.
Close to his home in Norway, captain Daland (Warick Fyfe) takes shelter in a fjord where a huge and red ship pulls alongside. With the promise of riches, he doesn't notice its ghosty appearance and offers his daughter (Senta, Lori Phillips) to the Dutchman Captain (Oskar Hillebrandt, who has sung the role over 400 times in 45 productions around the world). This actually turns out better than expected because on shore Senta dreams of the legend of The Flying Dutchman ghost ship and its dreamy captain, but she already has a suitor, Eric (Bradley Daley).
Dutchman is one of Wagner's early works and is difficult to stage because the first act is set on a moving ship mid-ocean and the final act brings ghosts. The problems have been conquered with a team of animators and designers from 3D Image Design & Creation Deakin Motion. With three screens on the stage, we're brought onto and into the ships and it feels almost like being in a live computer game.
This is combined with a simple and somewhat traditional design of heavy wood (Matt Scott and Christina Smith) that makes it feel like we're at the Palais not long after it opened in 1927. The combination of the two styles works wonderfully to create a solid and unmovable world that's lost to a world of dreams. Unfortunately the costumes feel out of place. Unnecessarily attached to the late nineteenth century, the women look especially frumpy and not part of the stage world that feels so at home in the huge and crumbling Art Deco theatre.
Although the design is what's bringing attention to this show, there's no holding back from Victorian Opera in the creation of Wagner's opera.
The absolute highlight of the work is the Australian Youth Orchestra, who almost overfill the pit that's not much lower than the stage. Conductor Richard Mills leads them in creating a sound that fills the huge space. The sounds's not as rich as a professional orchestra who know Wagner inside out, but they bring a freshness to the music that's rarely heard. (I should also say that I was close enough to hear Mills singing along, so I don't know if the sound travelled to the back of the C Reserve balcony.)
On stage, Fyfe (who was a favourite in Wagner's Das Rheingold in 2013) continues to master Wagner as a singer and an actor, and Phillips holds onto Senta's indecision and dilemma until the last scene. Director Roger Hodgman lets the story come first on the stage by ensuring that the projections only take over when they need to and by letting everyone in the chorus be as important in the telling as those up front.
Wagner's music is demanding to listen to and his stories about how humans and the supernatural/divine interact are equally as demanding. This combination of traditional opera story-telling, young orchestra and whizz-band new technology grasps it all. This is the kind of production that makes old-school opera exciting and fresh.
There are only three performances and the only one left is this Thursday, 19 February.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
Victorian Opera
14 February 2015
Palais Theatre
to 19 February
victorianopera.com.au
 |
| Victorian Opera. The Flying Dutchman. Photo by Jeff Busby |
Opera at the magnificent sea-side Palais Theatre with the audience wearing 3D glasses! Victorian Opera are sure giving us a new look at Wagner's The Flying Dutchman.
Close to his home in Norway, captain Daland (Warick Fyfe) takes shelter in a fjord where a huge and red ship pulls alongside. With the promise of riches, he doesn't notice its ghosty appearance and offers his daughter (Senta, Lori Phillips) to the Dutchman Captain (Oskar Hillebrandt, who has sung the role over 400 times in 45 productions around the world). This actually turns out better than expected because on shore Senta dreams of the legend of The Flying Dutchman ghost ship and its dreamy captain, but she already has a suitor, Eric (Bradley Daley).
Dutchman is one of Wagner's early works and is difficult to stage because the first act is set on a moving ship mid-ocean and the final act brings ghosts. The problems have been conquered with a team of animators and designers from 3D Image Design & Creation Deakin Motion. With three screens on the stage, we're brought onto and into the ships and it feels almost like being in a live computer game.
This is combined with a simple and somewhat traditional design of heavy wood (Matt Scott and Christina Smith) that makes it feel like we're at the Palais not long after it opened in 1927. The combination of the two styles works wonderfully to create a solid and unmovable world that's lost to a world of dreams. Unfortunately the costumes feel out of place. Unnecessarily attached to the late nineteenth century, the women look especially frumpy and not part of the stage world that feels so at home in the huge and crumbling Art Deco theatre.
Although the design is what's bringing attention to this show, there's no holding back from Victorian Opera in the creation of Wagner's opera.
The absolute highlight of the work is the Australian Youth Orchestra, who almost overfill the pit that's not much lower than the stage. Conductor Richard Mills leads them in creating a sound that fills the huge space. The sounds's not as rich as a professional orchestra who know Wagner inside out, but they bring a freshness to the music that's rarely heard. (I should also say that I was close enough to hear Mills singing along, so I don't know if the sound travelled to the back of the C Reserve balcony.)
On stage, Fyfe (who was a favourite in Wagner's Das Rheingold in 2013) continues to master Wagner as a singer and an actor, and Phillips holds onto Senta's indecision and dilemma until the last scene. Director Roger Hodgman lets the story come first on the stage by ensuring that the projections only take over when they need to and by letting everyone in the chorus be as important in the telling as those up front.
Wagner's music is demanding to listen to and his stories about how humans and the supernatural/divine interact are equally as demanding. This combination of traditional opera story-telling, young orchestra and whizz-band new technology grasps it all. This is the kind of production that makes old-school opera exciting and fresh.
There are only three performances and the only one left is this Thursday, 19 February.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
19 February 2015
Review: Blak Cabaret
Blak Cabaret
Malthouse Theatre & Summersalt Festival
11 February 2015
Malthouse forecourt
to 22 February
malthousetheatre.com.au
It's worth seeing Blak Cabaret to hang outside in the Malthouse forecourt, and it's impossible not to love Kahmahi Djordon King in a frock.
Conceived by Jason Yamiru, Blak Cabaret is part loud, brash and sequins, and part heart, land and song. The combination of songs that hurt to hear and satire (written by Nikkiah Lui) that can hurt to watch is what makes cabaret a form than can change views of the world.
Black queen, Queen Constantina Bush (frocked up magnificently by Chloe Greaves) arrives in white Australia and declares it terra nullius. With assistant Nikki Ashby, making hip hop hipper, and keeping her out of line, Queen Constantina dismisses disgusting white culture, fake apologises and insists that the audience prove that they are white. We're drinking fizz at the opening night of an Indigenous cabaret in Melbourne's inner city: oh yeah, we're white.
It's funny and lots of fun, but it's satire that grabs the obvious and doesn't have that biting reflection of something like the "take a selfie with a black kid" in 2015's Hipbone Sticking Out. It's satirising those silly white people who don't get it, rather than us who drink at Indigenous cabaret shows and claim to understand.
The heart comes in with Deline Briscoe, Emma Donavan, Kutcha Edwards and Bart Willoughby playing and singing. Willoughby formed No Fixed Address (Australia's first Indigenous rock band) in 1978 and has been playing and performing all over the world, and teaching and mentoring, ever since. He's one of those performers who you've probably seen (he been in things like Wim Wender's film Until the End of the World) but don't know his name. I've been looking at his website; I had no idea he'd done so much. Look him up. He's pretty amazing.
Luckily the stormed out night has passed and the weather is looking good for the rest of week. Blak Cabaret is a lovely start to the Malthouse's year and let's hope for a tear of more experiments, diverse voices and risks.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
Malthouse Theatre & Summersalt Festival
11 February 2015
Malthouse forecourt
to 22 February
malthousetheatre.com.au
It's worth seeing Blak Cabaret to hang outside in the Malthouse forecourt, and it's impossible not to love Kahmahi Djordon King in a frock.
Conceived by Jason Yamiru, Blak Cabaret is part loud, brash and sequins, and part heart, land and song. The combination of songs that hurt to hear and satire (written by Nikkiah Lui) that can hurt to watch is what makes cabaret a form than can change views of the world.
Black queen, Queen Constantina Bush (frocked up magnificently by Chloe Greaves) arrives in white Australia and declares it terra nullius. With assistant Nikki Ashby, making hip hop hipper, and keeping her out of line, Queen Constantina dismisses disgusting white culture, fake apologises and insists that the audience prove that they are white. We're drinking fizz at the opening night of an Indigenous cabaret in Melbourne's inner city: oh yeah, we're white.
It's funny and lots of fun, but it's satire that grabs the obvious and doesn't have that biting reflection of something like the "take a selfie with a black kid" in 2015's Hipbone Sticking Out. It's satirising those silly white people who don't get it, rather than us who drink at Indigenous cabaret shows and claim to understand.
The heart comes in with Deline Briscoe, Emma Donavan, Kutcha Edwards and Bart Willoughby playing and singing. Willoughby formed No Fixed Address (Australia's first Indigenous rock band) in 1978 and has been playing and performing all over the world, and teaching and mentoring, ever since. He's one of those performers who you've probably seen (he been in things like Wim Wender's film Until the End of the World) but don't know his name. I've been looking at his website; I had no idea he'd done so much. Look him up. He's pretty amazing.
Luckily the stormed out night has passed and the weather is looking good for the rest of week. Blak Cabaret is a lovely start to the Malthouse's year and let's hope for a tear of more experiments, diverse voices and risks.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
17 February 2015
Review: The Orchid & the Crow
The Orchid & the Crow
Button Eye Productions
13 February 2015
Tower Theatre, Malthouse Theatre
to 22 February
malthousetheatre.com.au
Daniel Tobias is almost unrecognisable as Otto Rot of the endlessly wonderful comedy duo band Die Roten Punkte. There's no keytar and makeup in The Orchid & the Crow but there is rock, and rocks, in Dan's story of getting testicular cancer.
When I watched a too-young friend die from cancer, I couldn't watch or hear cancer stories for some time, but I think I would have loved this one. I certainly loved it last night. Loved it to bits.
Ten years ago Dan was 29 and feeling crook. He was asked the same questions by different doctors and was finally diagnosed with stage three testicular cancer, which had spread up to his neck. Yep, stage three (there's no stage five) and it and had spread through the lymph (that's not good). He doesn't have it anymore.
This isn't an earnest story about how to whip the big C. Mixing rock, cabaret and confessional, it's about faith and family, circumcision and being a yes-and-no Jew, and understanding what girls think about balls.
Dan's team – who are far more amazing and less injecty than Armstrong's – include Christian Leavesly (director); Casey Bennetto (dramaturg); David Quick (script consultant); and Clare (Astrid Rot) Barthlolomew, John Thorn and Jhereck Bischoff (music).
With such support, Dan's very personal story's been shaped to balance the personal with the distant, and the poignant with the piss-yourself funny, to tell a truth that reaches everyone who's sharing it.
It's gutsy, hilarious and honest. Or go for the song about God telling Abraham about the covenant about chopping bits of penis off.
It's a guaranteed ball.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
Button Eye Productions
13 February 2015
Tower Theatre, Malthouse Theatre
to 22 February
malthousetheatre.com.au
 |
| Daniel Tobias. Photo byAndrew Wuttke |
When I watched a too-young friend die from cancer, I couldn't watch or hear cancer stories for some time, but I think I would have loved this one. I certainly loved it last night. Loved it to bits.
Ten years ago Dan was 29 and feeling crook. He was asked the same questions by different doctors and was finally diagnosed with stage three testicular cancer, which had spread up to his neck. Yep, stage three (there's no stage five) and it and had spread through the lymph (that's not good). He doesn't have it anymore.
This isn't an earnest story about how to whip the big C. Mixing rock, cabaret and confessional, it's about faith and family, circumcision and being a yes-and-no Jew, and understanding what girls think about balls.
There's no preaching but he does reach out to a god. A god whom Dan found when a nurse handed him a book. A god who overcame the impossible and achieved the more impossible. A god who gave hope to the young man who was facing his very possible death. And if gods aren't for offering hope, what's the point of them?
Lance Armstrong was this god.
Athlete, cancer-beater, charity founder and winner of so many Tour de Frances that some people joked that the only way to do that was to artificially enhance oneself.
Dan's team – who are far more amazing and less injecty than Armstrong's – include Christian Leavesly (director); Casey Bennetto (dramaturg); David Quick (script consultant); and Clare (Astrid Rot) Barthlolomew, John Thorn and Jhereck Bischoff (music).
With such support, Dan's very personal story's been shaped to balance the personal with the distant, and the poignant with the piss-yourself funny, to tell a truth that reaches everyone who's sharing it.
It's gutsy, hilarious and honest. Or go for the song about God telling Abraham about the covenant about chopping bits of penis off.
It's a guaranteed ball.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
13 February 2015
Review: Jumpy
Jumpy
Melbourne Theatre Company
5 February 2015
The Sumner
to 14 March
mtc.com.au
At least Jumpy is a play about 50-something women who have sex. There's not that much written about the middle-aged years when women discover a new type of social invisibility, and a time when female actors can disappear until they can play crones and clowns.
Written by UK writer April De Angelis, the MTC season opener is as Aussie as Prince Phillip's knighthood. It begins with Hilary (Jane Turner) despairing as her 15-year-old daughter, Tilly (Brenna Harding), stomps up the stairs of their very lovely house. Hilary knows she's still a feminist but is frustrated because 50 seems to offer more loss than gain. She drinks wine and discusses it all with bff Frances (Marina Prior) – who's still husband looking, still wearing bikinis and now heading to burlesque classes – but there's not so much discussion with husband, Mark (David Tredinnick), as her bedtime offering reading Great Expectations to him. Meanwhile Tilly and her friends are doing it like teenagers, with the expected consequence.
With behaviour and observations as complex and photo-shopped as a Women's Weekly (without the bonus of a recipe to try), I waited for the moment when the veneer of expected was torn away to show the real people and the reality of feeling 30 while seeing an old stranger in the mirror.
I don't like seeing dull middle aged woman on a stage because it scares me that THAT's what I look like to the world. I known people who slip easily into the expected, but I don't know anyone who isn't self aware enough to know if they are living a beige-nude-coloured one-piece bathing costume cliche.
There's plenty of jumping about in the plot but most is so obvious that it may as well not happen. Daughter didn't use birth control; daughter shags older boy, mum feeling unsexy; separated couples go away together. The spoilers are built in.
None of which is made any more compelling on the stage. The early awkward accents – why? – and conscious blocking relaxed, but the relationships – the frustration, passion and despair – in the subtext of the script were lost in the empty space of the stage. Director Pamela Rabe is an actor who makes empty space and subtext scream louder than the words spoken; as a director, she gets the script on the stage and seems to miss the exploration of what those words are really trying to say.
Which leaves us theatre that's as feisty as an old cat asleep in the sun. But regardless of what grumpy critics say, it will also sell well because of it's well-known cast, Marina's burlesque dance and the easy jokes about teenagers and their parents. And it's the box office from these shows that helps the MTC commission new works. Perhaps the price of every MTC independent NEON show is a Jumpy?
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
Melbourne Theatre Company
5 February 2015
The Sumner
to 14 March
mtc.com.au
 |
| Jane Turner and Dylan Watson. Photo by Jeff Busby |
Written by UK writer April De Angelis, the MTC season opener is as Aussie as Prince Phillip's knighthood. It begins with Hilary (Jane Turner) despairing as her 15-year-old daughter, Tilly (Brenna Harding), stomps up the stairs of their very lovely house. Hilary knows she's still a feminist but is frustrated because 50 seems to offer more loss than gain. She drinks wine and discusses it all with bff Frances (Marina Prior) – who's still husband looking, still wearing bikinis and now heading to burlesque classes – but there's not so much discussion with husband, Mark (David Tredinnick), as her bedtime offering reading Great Expectations to him. Meanwhile Tilly and her friends are doing it like teenagers, with the expected consequence.
With behaviour and observations as complex and photo-shopped as a Women's Weekly (without the bonus of a recipe to try), I waited for the moment when the veneer of expected was torn away to show the real people and the reality of feeling 30 while seeing an old stranger in the mirror.
I don't like seeing dull middle aged woman on a stage because it scares me that THAT's what I look like to the world. I known people who slip easily into the expected, but I don't know anyone who isn't self aware enough to know if they are living a beige-nude-coloured one-piece bathing costume cliche.
There's plenty of jumping about in the plot but most is so obvious that it may as well not happen. Daughter didn't use birth control; daughter shags older boy, mum feeling unsexy; separated couples go away together. The spoilers are built in.
None of which is made any more compelling on the stage. The early awkward accents – why? – and conscious blocking relaxed, but the relationships – the frustration, passion and despair – in the subtext of the script were lost in the empty space of the stage. Director Pamela Rabe is an actor who makes empty space and subtext scream louder than the words spoken; as a director, she gets the script on the stage and seems to miss the exploration of what those words are really trying to say.
Which leaves us theatre that's as feisty as an old cat asleep in the sun. But regardless of what grumpy critics say, it will also sell well because of it's well-known cast, Marina's burlesque dance and the easy jokes about teenagers and their parents. And it's the box office from these shows that helps the MTC commission new works. Perhaps the price of every MTC independent NEON show is a Jumpy?
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
28 January 2015
Review: The Jacobeans
MIDSUMMA
The Jacobeans
Bagabus Inc
23 January 2015
Club Voltaire
to 7 February
midsumma.org.au
Bagabus Inc are Hannah Malarski and Jack Richardson. They brought the delightfully dark Bushpig to the Melbourne Fringe in 2013 and are back for Midsumma with The Jacobeans, an equally dark and satirical exploration of the imbalance of power between men and women.
That makes it sound like it's all "hear me roar"; it's not. It's subtle and honest with a power that gently builds and packs its punch at the end as it circles back to beginning and the whole show is seen with a clearer perspective.
With a series of vignettes, it starts in the Dark Ages with a peasant woman dreaming of a day where she doesn't peel potatoes. It stays in the later-but-just-as-dark-ages with Freud and Jung knowing all about female orgasms; Saint Joan talking to God, who really doesn't care; a suffragette trying to explain her hunger strike to her husband who wants her out of gaol; and Julie Andrews dealing with Mickey Mouse and a three-toed sloth called Jeremy.
It can be frustrating to find the link in these mis-matched stories, especially as each is more short play than sketch, with its own tone, reflection and complete story, but there is clarity.
On a knife edge between satire and despair, or maybe anger, each looks at the love between women and men (platonic, comfortable, sexual, fearful and everything else along the scale) and how this love could be what keeps the power out of balance. But with or without love or not, the power isn't equal and even the strongest women are left knowing that they're not going to win – yet.
A dining chair and fake grass design lets each piece begin with a blank slate while the exceptional lighting, by Zoe Atterbury, declares the mood, creates vivid worlds, and makes the small and awkward space seem so much bigger than it is.
Which leaves Malarski and Richardson, who developed, wrote and perform the piece. They work beautifully together, bringing a complex understanding and empathy to all of their characters and ensuring that every character tells their own unique story. Both also know that the best clowning comes from an uncomfortable truth and that the best way to face and such truths is through laughter and story.
The more I think about this show, the more I like it. It's easy to enjoy the surreal stories and the terrific performances, but there's a deeper understanding that comes when it's seen as a whole, and I look forward to seeing this duo continue to develop new work.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
The Jacobeans
Bagabus Inc
23 January 2015
Club Voltaire
to 7 February
midsumma.org.au
Bagabus Inc are Hannah Malarski and Jack Richardson. They brought the delightfully dark Bushpig to the Melbourne Fringe in 2013 and are back for Midsumma with The Jacobeans, an equally dark and satirical exploration of the imbalance of power between men and women.
That makes it sound like it's all "hear me roar"; it's not. It's subtle and honest with a power that gently builds and packs its punch at the end as it circles back to beginning and the whole show is seen with a clearer perspective.
With a series of vignettes, it starts in the Dark Ages with a peasant woman dreaming of a day where she doesn't peel potatoes. It stays in the later-but-just-as-dark-ages with Freud and Jung knowing all about female orgasms; Saint Joan talking to God, who really doesn't care; a suffragette trying to explain her hunger strike to her husband who wants her out of gaol; and Julie Andrews dealing with Mickey Mouse and a three-toed sloth called Jeremy.
It can be frustrating to find the link in these mis-matched stories, especially as each is more short play than sketch, with its own tone, reflection and complete story, but there is clarity.
On a knife edge between satire and despair, or maybe anger, each looks at the love between women and men (platonic, comfortable, sexual, fearful and everything else along the scale) and how this love could be what keeps the power out of balance. But with or without love or not, the power isn't equal and even the strongest women are left knowing that they're not going to win – yet.
A dining chair and fake grass design lets each piece begin with a blank slate while the exceptional lighting, by Zoe Atterbury, declares the mood, creates vivid worlds, and makes the small and awkward space seem so much bigger than it is.
Which leaves Malarski and Richardson, who developed, wrote and perform the piece. They work beautifully together, bringing a complex understanding and empathy to all of their characters and ensuring that every character tells their own unique story. Both also know that the best clowning comes from an uncomfortable truth and that the best way to face and such truths is through laughter and story.
The more I think about this show, the more I like it. It's easy to enjoy the surreal stories and the terrific performances, but there's a deeper understanding that comes when it's seen as a whole, and I look forward to seeing this duo continue to develop new work.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
Review: Changeling
Changeling
Camille O'Sullivan
Arts Centre Melbourne
22 January 2015
Fairfax Studio
to 24 January
artscentremelbourne.com.au
Camille O'Sullivan knows that if she wants to move to Melbourne, she'll have adoring fans and endless friends eager to see her do anything, meow on the streets with her and invite her to dinner. She's something else. And then some. And there are only two more chances to see her Changeling at Arts Centre Melbourne.
O'Sullivan was last in Melbourne in 2013 in her solo performance of the Royal Shakespeare Society's remarkable The Rape of Lucrece. It left me shaking. I wrote: "... 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."
What she said.
Changeling is an album and a stage show of songs O'Sullivan didn't write. They're songs from the likes of Tom Waits, Nick Cave, Jacques Brel, David Bowie, Leonard Cohen and Radiohead; she sings them like they were written for her. With a voice as lush and smooth as rolling naked in velvet that surprises with sharp and shining sequins, she takes male point-of view songs, finds the emotion at the heart of the song and turns it into something that celebrates everything about the original song while being almost unrecognisable.
And she shares the absolute joy of singing these songs. Emotion is laid bare and there are no barriers between her and her audience. A lot of work has gone into making the music and words hers, but she is her authentic self on the stage. At times she's turned up to 11, but there's no doubt that every emotion on show comes from something very real.
And that's how you reach the heart of everyone in your audience (even before we sang "Ship Song" together).
She's supported by three Australian musicians and a light show made from frocks, mirror balls, candles, fairy lights and a rabbit lamp. It's simple and so beautiful, and makes the formal Fairfax studio feel as welcoming and decadent as the Spiegeltent, where O'Sullivan first performed.
Arts Centre Melbourne is programming some terrific stuff in the Fairfax this summer. Tom Crouch's wonderful I, Malvolio has finished, Changeling is this week and Paul Capsis in Little Bird opens next week.
And if you missed Changeling, it's off to Brisbane and the Adelaide Fringe.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
Camille O'Sullivan
Arts Centre Melbourne
22 January 2015
Fairfax Studio
to 24 January
artscentremelbourne.com.au
Camille O'Sullivan knows that if she wants to move to Melbourne, she'll have adoring fans and endless friends eager to see her do anything, meow on the streets with her and invite her to dinner. She's something else. And then some. And there are only two more chances to see her Changeling at Arts Centre Melbourne.
O'Sullivan was last in Melbourne in 2013 in her solo performance of the Royal Shakespeare Society's remarkable The Rape of Lucrece. It left me shaking. I wrote: "... 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."
What she said.
Changeling is an album and a stage show of songs O'Sullivan didn't write. They're songs from the likes of Tom Waits, Nick Cave, Jacques Brel, David Bowie, Leonard Cohen and Radiohead; she sings them like they were written for her. With a voice as lush and smooth as rolling naked in velvet that surprises with sharp and shining sequins, she takes male point-of view songs, finds the emotion at the heart of the song and turns it into something that celebrates everything about the original song while being almost unrecognisable.
And she shares the absolute joy of singing these songs. Emotion is laid bare and there are no barriers between her and her audience. A lot of work has gone into making the music and words hers, but she is her authentic self on the stage. At times she's turned up to 11, but there's no doubt that every emotion on show comes from something very real.
And that's how you reach the heart of everyone in your audience (even before we sang "Ship Song" together).
She's supported by three Australian musicians and a light show made from frocks, mirror balls, candles, fairy lights and a rabbit lamp. It's simple and so beautiful, and makes the formal Fairfax studio feel as welcoming and decadent as the Spiegeltent, where O'Sullivan first performed.
Arts Centre Melbourne is programming some terrific stuff in the Fairfax this summer. Tom Crouch's wonderful I, Malvolio has finished, Changeling is this week and Paul Capsis in Little Bird opens next week.
And if you missed Changeling, it's off to Brisbane and the Adelaide Fringe.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
25 January 2015
Review: Strictly Ballroom
Strictly Ballroom
Global Creatures et al
17 January 2014
Her Majesty's Theatre
strictlyballroomthemusical.com
Strictly Ballroom began when NIDA student Baz Luhrmann led a student-devised piece in 1984. This production went on to play at the Czechoslovakian World Youth Drama Festival in 1986 and, with new designer Catherine Martin, was performed in Brisbane and Sydney in 1988 by the new Six Years Old company, directed by Luhrmann. This led to the film that opened in Cannes in 1992, won a pool room of prestigious film prizes and ran for over a year in Australian cinemas. The musical version opened in Sydney in 2014 and this time the critical acclaim was silent. So it was tightened up before it opened in Melbourne.
I saw the 1988 version in Sydney. I loved this small show and the story of Scott and Fran going against the rules of ballroom dancing to be their true selves. Made with heart and guts, it celebrated an authentic Australian suburban voice and told a story that, despite its inevitable ending, twisted and turned like the dancing it celebrated. It was also made with a budget that wouldn't buy the new seat covers of the musical.
The film took the heart and guts of the play, but let it be bigger and placed it firmly in Sydney so that the famous Coke billboard in Kings Cross is mostly known for being in Strictly Ballroom, and placed it so deeply in the hearts of Australians that it remains one of our most-loved films.
And it let Lurhmann and Martin go on to make more films that are very loved, and equally not loved.
The nostalgic passion for this little-film-that-did will sell tickets to the new stage version, which is, as much as it can be, the film on stage.
From the Coke sign to the dialogue and from the colour of the gowns to Scott's famous knee slide across the floor, this time carried on the shoulders of dancers, everything on the stage is recognisable and referential. Except there's more of it.
There's no new story or extended characters, but there's more music, incuding "Time After Time", from the film; "Perhaps, perhaps", made famous by Doris Day; and the Melbourne addition of a couple songs by satirical wonder Eddie Perfect. Unlike the cultural mish-mash of music that works in Lurhmann's films, on a musical stage, the lack of musical consistency distracts from the story. As characters stop to sing, the story stops and re-starts, losing tension and bringing it into the world of the original music. And that's before the new Baz lyrics; a rhyme is not a lyric. (If only Eddie had been brought in on day one.)
The apparent fear of not being the film also leaves little room for the performers (who are some of our best) to bring themselves to the characters and make them their own. A couple overcome this, but most have the consistent control that ensures that no one will notice when an understudy slips in, and most are copies of performances created over 20 years ago.
Being like the film, it's still set in the 1980s of wacky printed lycra and frizzy hair but it doesn't comment on the 80s or look at that time from today. The film story is known, so why not add something, twist it or tell a new story circa 2014? Scott and Fran running a dance studio that's stuck in the 80s and their own kids rebelling?
At its best, this lavish show celebrates the time and ballroom dancing. It's also at its best when it's satirising the time and the dance. But the tone jumps around so much that it's hard to know what we're meant to be feeling; laughing at them or laughing with them?
Where it can't help but shine is Catherine Martin's design. Glorious gaudy and made from enough sequins to cover Mount Kosciuszko, it celebrates the outrageousness of ballroom and turns the sparkle up so high that that any imperfections are lost in the glare.
But sparklier doesn't mean better. We don't have to look far – cough, Lion King re-opens in Melbourne very soon – to be reminded that a successful musical based on a film doesn't have to look anything like the film.
Strictly Ballroom has the kind of pedigree and talent and support that should let it be astonishing. It should be the sort of show that re-defines Australian music theatre and runs for years. And there are moments, like the Spanish dance scene that closes Act 1 (after the Carmen re-write), where the show comes together and brings the audience into its world, but these moments of magic and heart also highlight how dull the rest of it is.
Sadly no amount of sparkle can cover dull. Let's hope that it keeps changing and is allowed to become the show it should be.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
Global Creatures et al
17 January 2014
Her Majesty's Theatre
strictlyballroomthemusical.com
Strictly Ballroom began when NIDA student Baz Luhrmann led a student-devised piece in 1984. This production went on to play at the Czechoslovakian World Youth Drama Festival in 1986 and, with new designer Catherine Martin, was performed in Brisbane and Sydney in 1988 by the new Six Years Old company, directed by Luhrmann. This led to the film that opened in Cannes in 1992, won a pool room of prestigious film prizes and ran for over a year in Australian cinemas. The musical version opened in Sydney in 2014 and this time the critical acclaim was silent. So it was tightened up before it opened in Melbourne.
I saw the 1988 version in Sydney. I loved this small show and the story of Scott and Fran going against the rules of ballroom dancing to be their true selves. Made with heart and guts, it celebrated an authentic Australian suburban voice and told a story that, despite its inevitable ending, twisted and turned like the dancing it celebrated. It was also made with a budget that wouldn't buy the new seat covers of the musical.
The film took the heart and guts of the play, but let it be bigger and placed it firmly in Sydney so that the famous Coke billboard in Kings Cross is mostly known for being in Strictly Ballroom, and placed it so deeply in the hearts of Australians that it remains one of our most-loved films.
And it let Lurhmann and Martin go on to make more films that are very loved, and equally not loved.
The nostalgic passion for this little-film-that-did will sell tickets to the new stage version, which is, as much as it can be, the film on stage.
From the Coke sign to the dialogue and from the colour of the gowns to Scott's famous knee slide across the floor, this time carried on the shoulders of dancers, everything on the stage is recognisable and referential. Except there's more of it.
There's no new story or extended characters, but there's more music, incuding "Time After Time", from the film; "Perhaps, perhaps", made famous by Doris Day; and the Melbourne addition of a couple songs by satirical wonder Eddie Perfect. Unlike the cultural mish-mash of music that works in Lurhmann's films, on a musical stage, the lack of musical consistency distracts from the story. As characters stop to sing, the story stops and re-starts, losing tension and bringing it into the world of the original music. And that's before the new Baz lyrics; a rhyme is not a lyric. (If only Eddie had been brought in on day one.)
The apparent fear of not being the film also leaves little room for the performers (who are some of our best) to bring themselves to the characters and make them their own. A couple overcome this, but most have the consistent control that ensures that no one will notice when an understudy slips in, and most are copies of performances created over 20 years ago.
Being like the film, it's still set in the 1980s of wacky printed lycra and frizzy hair but it doesn't comment on the 80s or look at that time from today. The film story is known, so why not add something, twist it or tell a new story circa 2014? Scott and Fran running a dance studio that's stuck in the 80s and their own kids rebelling?
At its best, this lavish show celebrates the time and ballroom dancing. It's also at its best when it's satirising the time and the dance. But the tone jumps around so much that it's hard to know what we're meant to be feeling; laughing at them or laughing with them?
Where it can't help but shine is Catherine Martin's design. Glorious gaudy and made from enough sequins to cover Mount Kosciuszko, it celebrates the outrageousness of ballroom and turns the sparkle up so high that that any imperfections are lost in the glare.
But sparklier doesn't mean better. We don't have to look far – cough, Lion King re-opens in Melbourne very soon – to be reminded that a successful musical based on a film doesn't have to look anything like the film.
Strictly Ballroom has the kind of pedigree and talent and support that should let it be astonishing. It should be the sort of show that re-defines Australian music theatre and runs for years. And there are moments, like the Spanish dance scene that closes Act 1 (after the Carmen re-write), where the show comes together and brings the audience into its world, but these moments of magic and heart also highlight how dull the rest of it is.
Sadly no amount of sparkle can cover dull. Let's hope that it keeps changing and is allowed to become the show it should be.
This was on AussieTheatre.com.
22 January 2015
Mini review: Anton and Olaf, a fruity fairytale
MIDSUMMA
Anton and Olaf: a fruity fairytale
La Mama
21 January 2015
La Mama courtyard
to 1 February
midsumma.org.au
Chris Molyneux and Zenta Schuber tell the story about two kings and an empress (Jack Beeby, Russ Pirie and Annabel Warmington) who need to decide who's going to rule the kingdom. The cardboard sets and puppets are gorgeous, and the messages that women are powerful and that being nice is better than being mean are always winners. The performers are terrific, but the story needs to tighten up (including less impro for the adults) and have some real stakes.
The ridiculously wonderful children's writer Mem Fox says this about trouble (stakes) in children's books: "The trouble must be trouble on a grand scale. It must be the kind of trouble that works its way into the depths of children’s souls and makes their hearts sink into bleakness and despair. Momentary despair, of course!" The book she is talking about is Where is the Green Sheep, a picture book of 190 words.
Never compromise on story when writing for children; they'll love you all the more for it.
None of which makes thus fruity show any the less fun. Make your grown-ups take you.
Photos by Dorine Blaise
Anton and Olaf: a fruity fairytale
La Mama
21 January 2015
La Mama courtyard
to 1 February
midsumma.org.au
La Mama's Midsumma show for kids is Anton and Olaf: a fruity fairytale.
There's no squeezing into the dark theatre, as this puppet adventure made from cardboard and fruit uses the outside courtyard – all the way down to the street. There are trees, big umbrellas and lots of coloured parasols for shade; cushions, rugs and chairs to sit on; water spray bottles; and frozen treats at the end.
Chris Molyneux and Zenta Schuber tell the story about two kings and an empress (Jack Beeby, Russ Pirie and Annabel Warmington) who need to decide who's going to rule the kingdom. The cardboard sets and puppets are gorgeous, and the messages that women are powerful and that being nice is better than being mean are always winners. The performers are terrific, but the story needs to tighten up (including less impro for the adults) and have some real stakes.
The ridiculously wonderful children's writer Mem Fox says this about trouble (stakes) in children's books: "The trouble must be trouble on a grand scale. It must be the kind of trouble that works its way into the depths of children’s souls and makes their hearts sink into bleakness and despair. Momentary despair, of course!" The book she is talking about is Where is the Green Sheep, a picture book of 190 words.
Never compromise on story when writing for children; they'll love you all the more for it.
None of which makes thus fruity show any the less fun. Make your grown-ups take you.
Photos by Dorine Blaise
20 January 2015
Review: Softly Pouting ...
MIDSUMMA
Softly pouting while walking into breezes
MUST, La Mama
14 January 2015
La Mama
to 1 February
midsumma.org.au
Softly pouting while walking into breezes started as a MUST (Monash Uni Student Theatre) show that was so popular that it needed to be seen by more people and found its way to La Mama for Midsumma.
With vignettes of memories, it's story of first-love-gone-bad-before-it-ever-had-the-chance-to-be-good. Ben, who is played by all eight male and female cast members, is lonely and embarrassed and afraid that he blew his one chance (in the bad way).
Playwright Jake Stewart is off to VCA this year and is a writer to keep an eye on. With a conscious wit, he captures the intense over-sharing and over-analysing passion of young adulthood. It reminded me of the endless times I fell in love at uni; every one was real, those who still make me smile and those whose names are lost. He's still to discover the real joy of cutting his darling words, but the over-writing and over-referencing feels right with the over-thinking of the Bens about the boy he loves.
He also has another show on at Midumma: Sexy Dead Schoolboys.
The cast grab the script with all their hearts, which have each known the tingly exhilaration and sweaty humiliation of love. They all bring themselves to their Ben, which makes it feel like there is a part of everyone's story on the stage. Awkward love is for all, after all.
Director Jessica McLaughlin Cafferty ensures that all the Bens have their moment and never lets any Ben overshadow the rest. She and the design team take advantage of the intimacy of the tiny La Mama space, while never letting the it be too small for a song and dance or too big to lose a moment of closeness.
As the best selfies come from softly pouting while walking into breezes, this is a love story from the generation who grew up with smart phones, social media and over sharing – and they show that it feels no different from us who wrote notes in class and left messages on answering machines.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
Softly pouting while walking into breezes
MUST, La Mama
14 January 2015
La Mama
to 1 February
midsumma.org.au
 |
| Photo by Sarah Walker |
Softly pouting while walking into breezes started as a MUST (Monash Uni Student Theatre) show that was so popular that it needed to be seen by more people and found its way to La Mama for Midsumma.
With vignettes of memories, it's story of first-love-gone-bad-before-it-ever-had-the-chance-to-be-good. Ben, who is played by all eight male and female cast members, is lonely and embarrassed and afraid that he blew his one chance (in the bad way).
Playwright Jake Stewart is off to VCA this year and is a writer to keep an eye on. With a conscious wit, he captures the intense over-sharing and over-analysing passion of young adulthood. It reminded me of the endless times I fell in love at uni; every one was real, those who still make me smile and those whose names are lost. He's still to discover the real joy of cutting his darling words, but the over-writing and over-referencing feels right with the over-thinking of the Bens about the boy he loves.
He also has another show on at Midumma: Sexy Dead Schoolboys.
The cast grab the script with all their hearts, which have each known the tingly exhilaration and sweaty humiliation of love. They all bring themselves to their Ben, which makes it feel like there is a part of everyone's story on the stage. Awkward love is for all, after all.
Director Jessica McLaughlin Cafferty ensures that all the Bens have their moment and never lets any Ben overshadow the rest. She and the design team take advantage of the intimacy of the tiny La Mama space, while never letting the it be too small for a song and dance or too big to lose a moment of closeness.
As the best selfies come from softly pouting while walking into breezes, this is a love story from the generation who grew up with smart phones, social media and over sharing – and they show that it feels no different from us who wrote notes in class and left messages on answering machines.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
16 January 2015
Review: I, Malvolio
I, Malvolio
Tim Crouch, presented by Arts Centre Melbourne
7 January 2015
Fairfax Studio
to 11 January
artscentremelbourne.com.au
I saw Tim Crouch's An Oak Tree at the 2008 Melbourne Festival. It assured me that I'd see anything he created and I Malvolio has confirmed my commitment.
Crouch is from Brighton in the UK and he makes theatre that embraces and confronts the assumptions that audiences and performers take into a theatre.
This is the fourth work he's created in which he re-tells a Shakespeare story from the perspective of one character. I, Peaseblossom, I, Caliban and I, Banquo were part of a project for children and young people to discover Shakespeare in different and accessible ways. Although certainly welcoming for young audiences, I, Malvolio was devised for everyone and its 2014 Sydney and Brisbane seasons sold out.
Malvolio is the duped pompous servant in Twelfth Night who's easy to laugh at, in his yellow cross-gartered stockings, and easy to forget, when everyone else dances off to a happy-ever-after.
By unpacking the story as Malvolio sees it, Crouch invites us to see the clown as a man who glimpsed the one hope of love in his sad life and had it viciously ripped away. This re-telling alone is fascinating – almost like looking at the backstory preparation of an obsessive method actor – but it's not the brilliance of the work.
This Malvolio, who begins the show in fly-ridden underwear after the humiliating jest has been discovered, drops the convention that a performer is a character. As the friendly performer who loves his audience and the contemptuous character who wishes ill to all who watch him, he talks with the audience and makes even the reluctant a willing part of the story. He encourages humiliating laughter, dares anyone to trick him and, literally, invites a kick in the arse, but turns it all back on those by asking why we did it.
Why do we laugh at the duped, the ugly and the stupid? While Crouch is far from any of these, as the house lights never dim to the safely of darkness, each show becomes a one-off conversation about the strange cruelty of theatre audiences who are willing and eager to watch people suffer.
The good-looking and wealthy people in Twelfth Night are horrible to Malvolio, but they are the ones cheered for. Shakespeare knew why. So does Crouch. And we know we'll keep on cheering and laughing.
I, Malvolio is on at Arts Centre Melbourne until Sunday. Be warned that you might want to see it again.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
Tim Crouch, presented by Arts Centre Melbourne
7 January 2015
Fairfax Studio
to 11 January
artscentremelbourne.com.au
I saw Tim Crouch's An Oak Tree at the 2008 Melbourne Festival. It assured me that I'd see anything he created and I Malvolio has confirmed my commitment.
Crouch is from Brighton in the UK and he makes theatre that embraces and confronts the assumptions that audiences and performers take into a theatre.
This is the fourth work he's created in which he re-tells a Shakespeare story from the perspective of one character. I, Peaseblossom, I, Caliban and I, Banquo were part of a project for children and young people to discover Shakespeare in different and accessible ways. Although certainly welcoming for young audiences, I, Malvolio was devised for everyone and its 2014 Sydney and Brisbane seasons sold out.
Malvolio is the duped pompous servant in Twelfth Night who's easy to laugh at, in his yellow cross-gartered stockings, and easy to forget, when everyone else dances off to a happy-ever-after.
By unpacking the story as Malvolio sees it, Crouch invites us to see the clown as a man who glimpsed the one hope of love in his sad life and had it viciously ripped away. This re-telling alone is fascinating – almost like looking at the backstory preparation of an obsessive method actor – but it's not the brilliance of the work.
This Malvolio, who begins the show in fly-ridden underwear after the humiliating jest has been discovered, drops the convention that a performer is a character. As the friendly performer who loves his audience and the contemptuous character who wishes ill to all who watch him, he talks with the audience and makes even the reluctant a willing part of the story. He encourages humiliating laughter, dares anyone to trick him and, literally, invites a kick in the arse, but turns it all back on those by asking why we did it.
Why do we laugh at the duped, the ugly and the stupid? While Crouch is far from any of these, as the house lights never dim to the safely of darkness, each show becomes a one-off conversation about the strange cruelty of theatre audiences who are willing and eager to watch people suffer.
The good-looking and wealthy people in Twelfth Night are horrible to Malvolio, but they are the ones cheered for. Shakespeare knew why. So does Crouch. And we know we'll keep on cheering and laughing.
I, Malvolio is on at Arts Centre Melbourne until Sunday. Be warned that you might want to see it again.
This was on AussieTheatre.com
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