What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 8

Today we hear from Charlotte, Beng and Christopher.

There's still time to contribute, but not much; it's not going all the way through the month this year. The form is linked on all the early parts. Or all the info is here.

Charlotte Strantzen Bair
Actor, presenter, theatre-maker and mother to two amazing humans

Charlotte Strantzen Bair

Favourite moments in 2019.
I'm thrilled that 2019 held more highlights than lowlights for me, with some really bright spots. My musical theatre picks for the year were Muriel's Wedding and Come from Away. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about Muriel.  Would the film translate to stage? Will it have aged well? Any cynicism in me was quickly washed away by the sheer joy of the show, with Kate Miller-Heidke and Keir Nuttall's music being ably performed by a fabulous cast (including, I discovered while watching, the wonderful Caleb Vines, whom I shared a stage with many times in the early 2000s in school holiday pantomimes! It made my year to see him all grown up and working in such a successful show). Come From Away was everything it was cracked up to be and more. It felt especially personal to us as my husband was in the USAA and away from family on September 11, so the emotional reaction was strong. I'm enjoying listening to the soundtrack now!

I saw some excellent kids theatre with my children, including ROFLSHALBOWCO by The Listies (not just for children!) at the Malthouse and Mad as a Cute Snake by Amelia Evans and Dan Giovannoni at Theatre Works. It's a real treat to see companies produce work that respects their young audiences and pushes the boundaries without making a big deal of it.

In comedy, I loved Keep at MICF by Daniel Kitson – I could listen to his storytelling for hours (and have!) – and Hot Donkey by Northern Ireland's Paul Currie, which takes on particular significance this week after the death of his hero, Caroll Spinney. Months later, I still find myself randomly breaking out into "Pandas for hands, I've got pandas for hands!".

My heart was warmed to see my friend and colleague Andi Snelling back on stage with Happy-Go-Wrong, which, as  already  mentioned in this series, is a great achievement. And, whie it didn't hit all the marks for me, I really enjoyed Raw Material and Traverse Theatre Company's What Girls Are Made Of as part of the Melbourne Interntional Festival of Arts.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, at long last! My brother and I are taking Mum for her 70th birthday...totally selflessly, of course! And, in a not-strictly-theatre sense, I am hanging out for My Dad Wrote a Porno in January and Tim Minchin's encore tour of Back in March.

SM: There are people who are always working and performing but we don't see them in our reviews and on the big stages. Charlotte makes theatre in homes and at parties and events. She (and her husband and colleauges) do murder mystery parties and theme parties and children's parties. They get to know their audiences in ways that few performers do. They make events become "the best day of my life". That's pretty great.

(PS. Are we allowed to start a count down to #MelbournePornoDay?)

Beng Oh
Director and theatre maker

Beng Oh

Favourite moments in 2019.
I didn’t see as much as I would have liked to this year but having said that, stand-outs for me include:

Ars Nova’s production of Underground Railroad Game at Malthouse. A funny, subversive and disturbing look at race relations with fully committed performances. Troubling in a good way.

Samah Sabawi’s Them at La Mama was beautifully directed by Bagryana Popov with a strong cast. It’s on the Victorian Premiere’s Literary Awards 2020 drama shortlist and is coming back in 2020 at the Arts Centre.

Also at La Mama, Rory Godbold’s When The Light Leaves was a timely piece as assisted dying laws came into effect. It’s a moving production that’s coming back for Midsumma 2020.

Declan Greene’s production of Wake in Fright at  Malthouse with Zahra Newman was simply brilliant and sucked you in right from the word go.

Opera Australia’s production of Aribert Reimann’s Ghost Sonata was a knockout. The singers sang some extremely tricky music with aplomb (and excellent diction) and Greg Eldridge’s production, in surreal designs by Emma Kingsbury, brought a really difficult piece to life.

Stephanie Lake’s Colossus with nearly 50 dancers was hypnotic and entrancing and I would have been happy to immediately watch it a second time. Still on dance, Hofesh Shechter’s exhilarating Grand Finale at MIAF really felt like the culmination of their work to date.

Anthem directed by Susie Dee at MIAF skilfully wove together five writers and a large cast into a memorable piece of theatre.

Last, but not least, Laurence Strangio’s The Year of Magical Thinking had a luminous performance by Jillian Murray coupled with exquisite lighting by Andy Turner.


Looking forward to in 2020.
Lots of things, not least of which are the Mozart Requiem by Romeo Castelluci, Robert Icke’s The Doctor, and Enter Achilles by DV8 (I can’t see it but I’m still excited by it) at Adelaide Festival.

Two shows in Melbourne stand out though. I missed it first time round and am excited about seeing Joel Bray’s Daddy. It’s queer, indigenous work with the lot. And sugar, lots of sugar. Not to be missed.

Susie Dee and Patricia Cornelius teaming up once more on Do Not Go Gentle... at Malthouse. I first saw the play in Julian Meyrick’s production at fortyfivedownstairs in 2010 and can’t wait to see what this latest production is like.

SM: I really enjoyed Beng's direction of Daniel Keene's Wild Cherries at La Mama, but what I remember most is how he let us see Cock though the hearts of the characters and brought a new reading to the well-known play. It was soooo hot that night in fortyfivedownstairs and, even while we melted, the audience were totally gripped by the story.

Christopher Bryant
Playwright, academic, sometimes performer

Christopher Bryant. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2019.
I saw Barbara and the Camp Dogs and Underground Railroad Game at Malthouse in the same week and nine months later, I'm still thinking about them both. They both expertly navigated hilarity through some really dark places, and were all the more affecting for it.

The end of Working With Children by Nicola Gunn. I'd watch her eat cereal (but like, not in a creepy way), so, of course, I loved her performance. But the way it ended – kind of, leaving the audience in all these questions she'd raised, watching all these machine-based optical illusions work in silence – was oddly touching and a little bit magical. I didn't feel like the veil of "theatre" lifted until hours later.

House Sisters by Michelle Lee and the Monash Centre of Theatre and Performance: hilarious and kind of sickening in parts and genuinely kept me unsure where it was going to end up. Just really well made and written, directed and performed by some wonderful young actors.

Daddy by Joel Bray. Beautiful, beautifully made, and again, sat on the knife's edge between camp ridiculousness, intelligence and a deep well of hurt. He also navigated audience involvement/interaction incredibly well.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Loaded by Dan Giovannoni and Christos Tsiolkas (directed by Stephen Nicolazzo) and Prima Facie by Suzie Miller (directed by Lee Lewis) at Malthouse.

The Feather in the Web by Nick Coyle (directed by Declan Greene) and Orlando by Sarah Ruhl (directed by Stephen Nicolazzo) at Red Stitch.

The Great Australian Play by Kim Ho and Wellbless by Debra Thomas and Ella Roth Barton at Theatre Works.

SM: I got to see two new productions of Christopher's plays in the same week: The Other Place at Theatre Works and Disinibition at MUST. Both approached and directed in such different ways; both sharing his writing and themes and emotions in such different ways. What an amazing way to get to know a writer and their work. What an amazing experience for a writer!

What Melbourne Loved in 2019, part 7

Today we have amazing directors who have been SM supporters since the beginning: Declan, Daniel and Penelope. All still work as indie freelancers and also have had some pretty damn cool positions in some pretty damn cool places. Each make theatre that collaborates and shares and has created three of the most astonishing and original aesthetics around.

Declan Greene
Theatre-maker, half of Sisters Grimm, and, as of verrrry recently, AD of Griffin Theatre

Declan Greene, who knows that there's enough of his headshot in today's arts media

Favourite moments in 2019.
Adena Jacobs's Titus Andronicus. I'm cheating a bit cuz this was in Sydney, but Adena is as definitively "Melbourne" as it gets. Adena and Eugyeene Teh's procession of images was a spectacular, ever-deepening nightmare, and I'll never forget it.

The Rabble's Unwoman. Enough will be said about the exquisite design and imagery, but can we please talk about how its second act is The Rabble making a piece of straight-up *playwriting!!!* – and some the best on any stage in Melbourne this year, at that (Dana Miltins and Mary Helen Sassman). This just a few months after director, co-creator Emma Valente decided to casually dash off an opera to end My Dearworthy Darling. At this point I'm pretty sure there is nothingThe Rabble can't do.

Little Ones's Happy Prince. Another slight cheat as I finally got to see it at Griffin in Sydney, but it was as exquisite as I'd been told countless times. Such a masterful study in theatrical minimalism; only 60 minutes long and every second, every breath mattered.

Stone Motherless Cold and Miss Jane Doe at Cocoa Butter Club. Cocoa Butter Club is always a great time, but these two performances at the closing night of Iridescent festival were the definition of a Fire Act. On the tiny Hares and Hyenas stage, Stone delivered a jaw-dropping masterclass in high-femme eroticism, and then Miss Jane Doe pounded a watermelon to pieces by jumping into the splits. No moment in any traditional theatre this year could ever top it.

Cloudstreet at Malthouse. What an event. That ending with Benjamin Oakes's final words as Fish, and that cascade of water held in a final suspended second before a snap to blackout... Beyond.

Krishna Istha's The Beast. I could watch Krishna read the phone book, but very happily I didn't have to, because their first foray into stand up was blessed with some amazingly good jokes and some very silly stagecraft (co-created by Zoe Coombs Marr). So stupid, so smart, so prodigiously funny. It's back in Melbourne next year, don't miss it.

Looking forward to in 2020.
As of next year I'm living in Sydney, so seeing all the stuff people are looking forward to is giving me big pangs in the chest. There's so much stuff I wanna see. At Asia TOPA: Adena Jacobs and Ida Ayu Wayan Satyani's The Seen and the Unseen and Sipat Lawin's Are You Ready To Take The Law Into Your Own Hands?". A production at Theatre Works of Kim Ho's incredible The Great Australian Play. Ra Chapman's K-BOX and John Harvey's The Return at Malthouse. Ben Law's Torch the Place at MTC. A new Ash Flanders solo show (!!!). Argh. I will miss this city so much.

SM: I had my paragraph ready to go about Dec's extraordinary direction and writing of Wake in Fright (with Zarah Newman, of course), but he told me that his moments had to wait until today – and the WIF rave can also wait. My favourite moment was late last night when I heard that he'd been appointed Artistic Director of Griffin Theatre. Sure, we lose him to Sydney, but this is going to be so fucking amazing. I first saw his work in 2008, which was maybe four years ago, certainly not over 11 years ago because neither of us have aged a bit. I still remember Cell Block Booty in vivid detail. This was the kind of theatre I knew had to exist somewhere, even if I'd never been able to articulate what I wanted to see. Queerer than fuck and pearl-clutchingly offensive, its forensic autopsy of camp was doused in vodka and fueled by poppers, while being so brain-draining smart and having a stage that showed what we mean when we scream "representation". And that's before I start listing the amazing people who I first saw on a Sister's show. This re-set my aesthetic and every time I sat in a room surrounded by people who accepted that theatre is inherently dull, I want those theatre makers to go back in time, put on a warm jacket and see that show in the carpark theatre of the Collingwood flats.

Now, as I earn no money as an arts writer, how can I get to Sydney to see every Griffin show...

Daniel Lammin
Director, writer; Producer and programmer Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance

Daniel Lammin didn't let me go and choose my fave pic from FB this year.

Favourite moments in 2019.
I really adored the Grand Gesture, the gorgeous work that Katrina Cornwall and Morgan Rose created with the third year VCA students; a dissection of romance in cinema that was both a through interrogation and an open love letter.

I was also really blown apart by Barbara and the Camp Dogs, which I’d say is the best piece of Australian theatre I’ve seen since the Malthouse production of Picnic at Hanging Rock. It had me on the edge of my seat before emotionally pummelling me with its astonishing storm of words, music, emotion and fury. I don’t think I left the theatre the same person I was when I went in. It was something I knew from the moment I began that it was vitally important that I open my ears, open my heart and listen, really listen, to what it had to say. It demanded that, and it had every right to.

There was also UnHOWsed and The Other Place at Theatre Works, Disinhibition at MUST, Underground Railroad Game at Malthouse, and getting another chance to see and consequently finally fall in love with Dee and Cornelius’s Shit at fortyfivedownstairs.

The ultimate highlight though was Hofer Shechter’s Grand Finale at MIAF. I’d never seen the company before, and will never forget it. There’s no use even trying to describe it in words. If you were there, you know what I’m talking about. Man, I cried. I cried so, so much.

Oh, and touring Forgiveness, a Monash Centre for Theatre and Performance student work created with Penelope Bartlau and Ashlee Clapp to the Wuzhen Theatre Festival. That was pretty fucking cool.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Finally seeing Patricia Cornelius’s Do Not Go Gentle... – I mean, how awesome is that going to be!And seeing Stephen Nicolazzo take on Loaded. And new works from Chris Bryant and Chris Edwards at Theatre Works during Midsumma. And anything Morgan Rose and Kat Cornwall do, the work they make is wondrous.

And directing again. I’ve missed that.

SM: I also miss Daniel directing, but there's next year to look forward to. Daniel's someone I always try and talk to after shows because, as you can read, he feels shows. He listens to what the creators are saying rather than just looking for the connection to himself.


Penelope Bartlau
Artist and director Barking Spider Visual Theatre

Penelope Bartlau. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2019.
Hands down, my favourite moment was Do Not Collect $200 – an interactive game/performance experience produced by MUST, created by Harley Hefford and team. Its controlled chaos was delicious and its politics searing. Sublimely clever and so much fun. I had seen a number of MIAF shows during the same time frame and Harley's show caught me off-guard. Brilliant.

Grand Finale by Hofesh Shechter at MIAF was relentless and powerful. I hope never to miss one of this artist's shows when they are in town. Speaking (again) of MIAF, Stephanie Lake's Colossus remount was a gobsmacker: compelling and beautiful.

The hair forest of The Rabble's Unwoman (Kate Davis's design) was marvellous, and the second scene with Dana Miltins and Mary Helen Sassman was a rare moment where I felt like my story – our story as women – was represented in such a sharp, gut wrenching and fearless way.

Looking forward to in 2020.
Lots of very interesting work involving infrastructure, transport, regional development and communications.

SM: I haven't seen anything of Penelope's this year: that's not good at all. As she's just stepped down as Creative Director Women's Circus, perhaps there's more Barking Spider to see next year.

Reviews: The Festival of Bryant (The Other Place & Disinhibition)

The Other Place
Theatre Works and Before Shot
29 August 2019
Theatre Works
to 8 September
theatreworks.org.au

"The Other Place" by Theatre Works

Disinhibition
MUST
31 August 2019
MUST Space, Monash University Clayton campus
to 7 September
msa.monash.edu/events/disinhibition/

"Disinhibition" by MUST. Photo by Aleks Corke

Melbourne playwright Christopher Bryant had two new shows open last week: The Other Place at Theatre Works and Disinhibition at MUST.

This is a rare opportunity to not only see two new works by the same author but to see how different director, casts and creators approach his writing.

The Other Place, directed by Jessica Dick, is a meta theatrical imagining of the lives of two women who nudged the dullness in theatre in the 1970s by creating alternative venues for contemporary voices.

Buzz Goodbody was the first female director at The Royal Shakespeare in London and was the instigator and founding associate director of The Other Place, the RSC's black box studio theatre formed to present small-scale experimental works. Her direction was praised by audiences and critics, especially for King Lear and Hamlet. Betty Burstall formed La Mama here in Melbourne in 1967 and fought to keep the small experimental theatre space open in the 1970s.  La Mama remains one of the most influential theatre spaces in Australia. And still serves free tea and coffee, like Burstall introduced.

Written like it could be performed in either venue, Bryant explores the women's imagined inner thoughts by playing with the styles of theatre they worked with, ranging from Elizabethan to Post Modern. It's filled with the theatre jokes but comes back to the importance of theatre being a safe place if your community isn't welcoming. Both women faced conservative governments and attitudes; if only their stories were something from the past.

The cast of five women all play Buzz and Betty, each with more of their own personality than that of the women they didn't know. This makes it feel intimate and helps connect with the actors – who have all found their personal connection to one or the other women – but it's not as easy to really discover the characters. The women never met despite their similar goals, but one of the most emotionally engaging scenes is when they meet at a fictionalised tv interview. Letting them interact gives the work a story that's more than just a celebration of their lives.

Goodyear died by suicided in 1975; Burstall died in 2013. I learnt a lot about both of them. Sometimes we need to remember that known names were people who never believed they'd be people who playwrights would write about.

Dishinibition, directed by Yvonne Virsik, is far more about contemporary reality as it explores the unreality of social media where a puppy pic can lead to the unimaginable.

George is Boyance is on Tumbler; he really doesn't like the persona he's become. Flick is Flick.Eats on Instagram; she gets vegan takeaway and pretends she made it. Tay is an acronym for Totally About You on Twitter; she's an imagined artificial intelligence bot programmed to interact with influencers like George and Flick. Tay is the only one who believes that her net self is real; perhaps  intelligence can overcome its artifice.

I don't have as many followers as any of them.

Like The Other Place, the cast, who are all students at Monash, play multiple roles and it takes time to put the jigsaw together of how early scenes fit in. But as characters stay with the same actors in Dishinibition, it's easier to find the experiences to connect with – even if it's with the bot.

Its strength lies with a cast who can only imagine what life was like before the internet and understand the positive and negatives about communicating with people you may never really know or meet. And they instinctively understand that our social media personalities are mask and performance. Bringing this concept onto the stage feels as natural as checking Facebook (I'm showing my age).

Virsik lets them find their personal connection to the work while giving the overall structure a tighter shell that lets the ideas dance like gifs without distracting from the narrative progression.

If you have to choose which play to see during The Festival of Bryant, Dishinibition is stronger and feels so much like now that it may be written about in the future as a play that captured the period before we really understood the impact of AI. And MUST continues to be the Melbourne theatre secret that develops some of our most successful theatre makers  – Bryant was at MUST – and makes theatre with students that is nothing like student theatre.

But also see The Other Place because this is Melbourne and imagining theatre here without La Mama isn't possible.

What Melbourne Loved in 2018, part 2

As moments come in, I don't try and find themes and connections, but they usually happen anyway. Today, one favourite was programmed by another. And there's discussion about the importance of diversity on our stages, and about indie artists and shows on main stages.

Daniel Clarke
Arts Centre Melbourne
Creative Producer, Theatre and Contemporary Performance

Dan and Donnie

Favourite moments in 2018
Blackie Blackie Brown at Malthouse was one of the most exciting examples of contemporary Australian theatre that I have seen. I sat there completely gripped and amazed by what I was seeing on stage. The direction, writing, performances and stunning AV design all came together to produce an electrifying political work that I hope gets to travel around the globe. Developed over years, this work clearly demonstrates the importance of investment in visionary artists to take the time they need to develop a new work.

Bighouse Dreaming was a devastating and urgent work. It shattered me. I first saw Declan Furber-Gillick perform at Decolonising Stories, an event produced by Arts Centre Melbourne, curated by Candy Bowers. I knew in that moment that here was an extraordinary talent. I vividly remember sitting in the Fairfax foyer watching his performance soexcited that I had been introduced to an artist with such an original, powerful, political and poetic voice. When I saw his work Bighouse Dreaming, directed with exquisite restraint by Mark Wilson during Melbourne Fringe, I knew that here we had someone who would make a major contribution to our culture. Was already doing it. This work needs to be seen far and wide. In schools, in the mainstream, as a tool for urgent change in the correctional services. Much respect to all cast and creatives and Mechanics Institute and Melbourne Fringe for supporting the work.

Looking forward to in 2019
Can’t wait to see Barbara and the Camp Dogs at Malthouse, Deer Woman and Counting and Cracking at Sydney Festival, Emily Sexton’s first year at Arts House, and Bryce Ives’s first year at Theatre Works. And Kylie Minogue, of course, and Queen Kong at Arts Centre Melbourne. In Adelaide, I can’t wait to finally see Bitch Dyke Faghag Whore by Penny Arcade and explore David Sefton’s brilliant Royal Croquet Club Program as part of Adelaide Fringe. Oh and Hannah Norris’s Afteryou, with her Mum, is going to be very special.

SM: Dan has continued the  amazing programming and development work he did at Theatre Works at Arts Centre Melbourne. Not only are we seeing some of the best indie theatre from around the world  at the Arts Centre – the Big World, Up Close program was amazing – , but there are also developments, workshops, discussions and plans that are bringing some of our best independent and emerging performers and creators onto main stages. As this happens, our main-stages become far more exciting places to visit.

PS. I saw Bitch Dyke Faghag Whore in the early 90s.

Monique Grbec
Awesome
Reviewer

From Facebook

Favourite moments in 2018
Matriarch at Melbourne Fringe, a Stolen Generations story of reconnection, and Taha from Big World, Up Close at Arts Centre Melbourne

Looking forward to in 2019
More diverse stories.

SM: Monique is one of the awesome new reviewers at Witness. We met at a show set in the 1980s and bonded over knowing every song that was used.


Christopher Bryant
Playwright and academic

Christopher Bryant. Photo by Lisa Maree Williams

Favourite moments in 2018
I didn't see as much as I wanted to this year, partly for money reasons and partly because this year has just been hectic – but two moments vie for my attention.  The first is the ending of Nicola Gunn's Working With Children. I know it was considered divisive (that wonderful catch-cry of theatre that can't be summed up easily enough), but I found myself enthralled by her words and movement, her humour and her dissemination of philosophy throughout. The moment in particular was the end: she sets up a series of strange childlike contraptions that create a shadowy mosaic... and then leaves. It took the audience I was in about five minutes as they went through the process of sitting in silence, waiting for Gunn to return,  realising something was 'wrong', and finally realising they'd been duped and the show was over. It was outrageous and I loved it.

The second was the growing disquiet of Lottie in the Late Afternoon by Amelia Roper  at fortyfivedownstairs. What started as an all-too familiar narrative about old friends reconnecting on a vacation slowly filled up with dark humour and just a touch of existential dread.  I can't get the feeling of being in that audience out of my head: as audience grew more and more uncomfortable while also never quite being sure *why* they were uncomfortable.

Looking forward to in 2019
So much and, as always, my brain seems to have forgotten anything specific, but that's the great thing about Melbourne – there's always so much to see! I am keen for Golden Shield by Anchuli Felicia King at MTC (she's doing so well, and I'm so excited to finally see one of her works). and MUST's adaptation of Slaughterhouse Five at Theatre Works (I saw it at Monash but it's just so great to see quality student work getting a second life).

SM: I didn't see any of Christopher's work this year – to be fair, he was OS a fair but – so my favourite moment has to be his Facebook panic when he realised the international flight he was booked on left at the end of the day not the next day, as he thought. He made the flight. I felt ill when I read it.

UPDATE: I saw Sneakyville that he wrote! How could I forget that! It was about Charles Manson and explored why people love and are obsessed with the worst of people.

What Melbourne Loved in 2017, part 2

Today we have three people who have all been through MUST at Monash Uni; MUST won last year's "Everything they do rocks" award.

Mama Alto
Jazz cabaret diva

Taylor Mac and Mama Alto. Photo by Sarah Walker

Favourite moments in 2017
900 people, in tears, with smiles, hearts full to burst, singing together: “You can lie down or get up and play”.

Honourable mentions must go to Kate Mulvany’s fascinating depiction of Richard of York in Richard III, Margot Tanjutco’s magical realist 1940s Asian-American wonderland in Estrella Wing: Showgirl, and Anne-Marie Peard crocheting queer rainbow granny squares live on stage whilst Taylor Mac sang "Yankee Doodle Dandy".

Looking forward to in 2018
I was lucky to catch The Bleeding Tree, one of the most astounding Australian plays I have ever seen, in Sydney in 2017 – and I am thrilled it will be coming to Melbourne in 2018. Revelatory, damning, chilling, fascinating, introspective, and arresting performances from all three actresses, but especially Paula Arundell.

Similarly, it will be fabulous to have the Virginia Gay lead Calamity Jane come to Melbourne.

But most of all I look forward to being surprised.

SM: No YOU'RE crying! Who am I kidding. We're back at Taylor Mac and I'm crying. And one of the greatest of all the unforgettable moments of that 24 hours was Taylor giving the stage to Mama during Chapter III. The captured silence. The moment when the whole audience breathed in together before we exploded in applause – or was it screaming. It was magnificent.

Mama has been involved in the creation of so many shows this year; I miss too many of them. I'm not missing the Christmas show at the Butterfly Club this year.

www.mamaalto.com

Daniel Lammin
Director, writer

Daniel Lammin made it to Broadway!

Favourite moments in 2017
It’s a tough one this year, because my favourite theatre experience wasn’t something I saw in Melbourne. So I’m going to cheat and do two, mostly because I’m excitable and greedy.

The Melbourne-based production that had the biggest impact on me this past year was probably The Rabble’s Joan. I’ve never been a big fan of their work, but Joan really deeply moved me. It was raw and unforgiving, thrilling in its form and devastating in its content, and the sight of those four superb women baring their souls on stage was often breathtaking. There was nothing didactic or self-consciously clever about its execution, every moment seemly crafted by primal instinct and tremendous daring. I’ve always been fascinated by Jean d’Arc as a figure, but had never seen her story approached with such integrity and fury. The final monologues had me captivated and sobbing. It’s easily my favourite work from The Rabble and I walked away with the feeling that something had shifted inside me as both an audience member and a theatre maker.

This year though, I made my first overseas trip ever to the USA and spent two weeks in New York. I saw eight shows over there, many of which were superb (especially the immersive Barrow Street production of Sweeney Todd), but the highlight of the trip, and my year, and one of the best theatrical experiences I’ve ever had, was seeing Ben Platt in Dear Evan Hansen.

I unashamedly love the musical even with its many problems, and the production is excellent, but Platt’s performance was jaw-dropping. The closest I’ve seen to any performance as detailed, committed and unforgiving was seeing Robin Nevin in Kosky’s Women of Troy, and the effect was similar – uncontrollable sobbing and wide-eyed awe (thankfully, everyone else was dry-heaving sobbing as much as I was, so I didn’t ruin anyone else’s evening).

As an audience member, I was shattered by every second he appeared on stage; as a director, I marvelled at how the hell he was able to do it in the first place, especially someone so damn young. I’ve spent a lot of my theatrical practice looking at young men in emotional crisis, so both the show and Platt’s devastating performance were something I really needed to see. To be honest, it was probably the best performance by an actor I’ve ever seen on stage, and worth every cent of the $US300 I paid to see it.

Looking forward to in 2018
Well, I can’t wait to see how the fuck Matt Lutton and Declan Greene adapt Lars von Trier’s Melancholia on stage because what the hell, and am pumped to see Anne-Louise Sarks’s production of Blasted. Plus there’s A Doll’s House Part 2 and Patricia Cornelius FINALLY ON A MAIN STAGE with The House of Bernarda Alba at the MTC, and I’m sure a whole lot of other independent work that’ll pop up over the year. Really though, I just can’t wait to see Picnic at Hanging Rock again. I’m going to take my fiancé and his family along and, honestly, I hope it scares the shit out of them!

SM: My favourite Daniel moment is the same as last year's: His production of Awakening. Giving Wendela power and letting her take back her story still makes me skip a breath to take it in. Too many women's stories about, especially young women's stories, about rape and abuse still end in the convenience of death and silence. Shows like this do so much to take away shame and let women be heard.

Christopher Bryant
Writer, actor

Christopher Bryant. Photo by Lisa-Maree Williams

Favourite moments in 2017
Revolt. She said. Revolt again. at the Malthouse – the first half was some of the most joyous/intelligent/occasionally crass writing I’ve seen this year, and the second half an overwhelming gut punch. I know I’m talking in hyperbole, but I just honestly loved it. It was the first time in a few years that I sat in a theatre grinning uncontrollably as I watched something.

The other moment (“moment”) would be Julia Croft’s If there’s not dancing at the revolution, I’m not coming. I knew nothing going in and was blown away for an hour: a simultaneously hilarious and venomous deconstruction of onscreen female representation that played with form. It also had a brilliant soundtrack to boot. Both pieces felt truly unpredictable, and therefore, truly exciting.

Looking forward to in 2018
Working with Children by Nicola Gunn, Astroman by Albert Beiz (I saw the development showing at the 2015 National Play Festival, and it was really exciting), Melancholia, Blackie Blackie Brown… so many things. Also, heaps of shows that I don’t know about: I didn’t get to attend as many shows as I would’ve liked to this year, and I’m going to try and see more next year.

December PS: I'm glad and mildly regretful that I only saw Nanette after I submitted to this because I feel like it just would've turned everything into: "Nanette. The whole thing. The whole damn thing."

SM: This Fringe, I saw a lot of shows and wasn't able to write about; Christopher's Intoxication was up there with the best. He wrote and performed a very honest and personal story without being sentimental or indulgent. One of my favourite moments during the show was his story about getting advice from Kate Mulvany. I'm really looking forward to seeing the next steps of its development.

part 1
2016
2014
2013
2012

How to Fringe 2017: Christopher Bryant

Christopher Bryant
Playwright, performer

Intoxication
15–22 September
Lithuanian Club, Son of Loft

Christopher Bryant. Photo by Lisa Maree Williams

If you could invite anyone to your show (and you knew they would come), who would it be?
Jack Ferver and/or Nicola Gunn. In part because I respect the heck out of both of them, but also because both their performance styles have inspired what Intoxication is trying to do.

The Melbourne Fringe in three words?
Diverse. Surprising. Unique.

A favourite Melbourne Fringe memory.
Going out to Sisters Grimm’s Fugly after the show I’d directed, with the cast in various states of undress. The night itself was a blur, but I do remember one particular cast member dancing so much that her shoes filled up with blood.

In terms of actual shows, there’s too many to name drop, but overall just the feeling of complete support and excitement I’ve felt in every audience I’ve been a part of.

What is your experience as an independent artist being part of the Melbourne Fringe?
This is the second time I’ve been involved in a fringe festival, and the first with something so directly related to me as an artist/performing a work I’m intensely proud of. Both times – and all the times I’ve simply been a part of the Fringe community – I’ve felt nothing but supported.

What makes the Melbourne Fringe unique?
It sits in a great spot between something large and potentially overwhelming, like Edinburgh or Adelaide, and something smaller. As a festival it manages to be both intimate and sprawling. This offers more opportunities all around: more opportunities for ‘unknown’ or lesser-known artists to make their mark and more opportunities for audiences to see something unexpected. There’s also less of a focus on work from other cities, with local art being more of a selling point.

Your advice for choosing what to see in the Melbourne Fringe?
Don’t just stick to what you know! Some of the best things I’ve seen have been shows I unexpectedly ended up seeing and wouldn’t have otherwise gone to.

Do you think there’s a better system than star ratings for reviews?
Honestly, I’d rather abolish them altogether – make audiences work that little bit harder. A show can rarely be summed up by a simple star rating alone, and stars can’t take into consideration the myriad of things in and surrounding the show. I guess I’d rather people just read a review and made up their own minds. (The more practical response: it’s the Fringe and I fully accept they’re a necessary evil, and they’re better than nothing!)

Five shows/events you will not miss at the 2017 Melbourne Fringe?
How To Kill The Queen Of Pop
Lady Bunny in Trans-Jester
Let’s get Practical! Live. Presented by The Very Good Looking Initiative
It’s Not Me, It’s Lou. A silly show by musical comedian Louisa (Lou) Wall
TRAPS. A romantic comedy for the modern sociopath by Amelia Evan