Review: Endgame

Endgame
MTC
26 March 2015
The Sumner
to 25 April
mtc.com.au

Julie Forsyth & Rhys McConnochie. Photo by Jeff Busby

There's a double page in the program for the MTC's Endgame titled "explantion". It's about modernism, Absurdism and finding meaning in Samuel Beckett's writing. It's great for post-show conversations but it doesn't talk about the possibility of losing yourself in Beckett's world and not giving a toss about meaning.

For me, the joy of a Beckett stage is being lost in a WTF time and space with people for whom this is every day. There's a rhythm – a music – to his writing that moves his audiences through the text without having to stop to understand and interpret. This rhythm is easy to see in a script and it's a loss to anyone who doesn't let it beat on the stage.

The Endgame world is described as "grey light". Here Clov (Luke Mullins), who can't sit, is servant to Hamm (Colin Friels), who can't walk or see, and spends every day in a chair in the centre of the space. To his right are two large cans or bins where Nagg (Rhys McConnochie) and Nell (Julie Forsyth), Hamm's parents who have no legs, live. They talk about death and endings while knowing that the inevitable release may be too far away to offer much hope.

But it's not bleak, and being free to laugh is what makes it light and fun.

The essential grey light is created by designer Callum Mortum and lighting designer Paul Jackson (and not forgetting Eugyeene Teh's costumes). There's a literal fourth wall of grey cement slabs that disappears in the opening of perfect black out (and may those who chose that moment to deal with their phones, get parking tickets before the week is out); there's nothing like velvet of pure dark to guide us into the unknown.

The bare world is a bunker made of concrete slabs, and, even as it asks questions and offers answers from future apocalypse to last century's wars, we never know why or how or when. The passing of a day is in the lighting that's only black and white. The changes are imperceptible until the grey is darker or a shadow has moved. As the night draws in, the stage looks like it's pulling away from the audience and could be turned off with the flick of a remote control.

Sam Strong directs a cast who know Beckett and, at their best, bring a complex understanding to their characters that lets the audience find that rhythm. Mullins and Forsyth especially find the humanity and loss in the subtext, while still letting Clov and Nell be clowns.

But there are moments of indulgence that makes it all about the actors. This breaks the rhythm and takes us back to looking for an explanation rather being happily lost in the pulse of grey light.

This was on AussieTheatre.com

Review: night maybe

night maybe
Stuck Pigs Squealing, Theatre Works
17 August 2013
Theatre Works
to 1 September
theatreworks.org.au

There's no maybe about it; night maybe is a must. Stuck Pig's Squealing are consistently a bit awesome and this new work by writer Kit Brookman is as beautiful as it is disturbing and leaves its audience happily lost somewhere between unknown and certain.

On a dark night, Sasha and her brother Tom are in park. She has torches and Nutella sandwiches, but he still abandons her. As she heads into the darkness where others are hiding, each new encounter brings her dangerously closer to safety.

Like in his recent work Heaven, Brookman writes about young adults without forcing the judgment, logic or fear of adults-who-know-better onto them. His night world hides the unknown, embraces the supernatural, but is never clear what, if anything, is real.

Sarah Ogden, Tom Conroy, Marcus McKenzie and Brian Lipson perform like it was written for them. They let each character keep their truths to themselves and never share what they saw in the darkness. This deepens the mystery with every moment and brings us closer to characters who we want to be safe, but still want them to stay in dark until they let us in on the truth.

And all is made more astonishing with the exquisite design by Mel Page (set and costume), Richard Vabre (lighting) and James Brown (sound). From its black and foggy opening, the sight of real grass and trees offers hope of a picnic-perfect conclusion in the sun, but it gets darker and colder as the light creeps into the menacing shadows.

Director Luke Mullins brings all together in a work that's impossible to look away from and difficult to stop thinking about.. By holding back, it never screams its meaning and whatever you walk away with believing is right for you. Just don't miss it.

Photo by Sarah Walker

This was on AussieTheatre.com

Apocalypse Bear Trilogy

MIAF 2009
Apocalypse Bear Trilogy
MTC and Melbourne International Arts Festival
Friday 9 October 2009
The MTC Theatre, Lawler Studio

If there is any reason why open access festivals, like the Fringe, and independent companies and venues need as much support as we can muster, it is the Apocalypse Bear Trilogy.

Stuck Pigs Squealing have become one of independent Melbourne’s favourite companies and have worked to be presentd by our biggest professional company and earn their much-deserved place in our International Arts Festival.

Lally Katz’s Apocalypse Bear emerged from the woods as a commission for White Whale’s 2007 Melburnalia. The short piece started as a tale about living in far Kew and the congenial and terrifying bear instantly became one of my favourite bears (alongside Pooh, Paddington, the sneezing baby panda on YouTube and friends of mine who drink at the Laird).

Katz is also on my list of bloody-amazing-writers-who-every-other-writer-needs-to-see. The trilogy (The Fag of Zagreb, Back to the Cafeteria and At Last) is about instincts and emotion and the dark, dangerous woods that are as close as one tram stop away, and is so well written that you can’t see the skill for the words. Katz knows that people never say what they mean and creates world of subtext so powerful and raw that a conversation about putting the bins out is as menacing and moving as theatre can be.

It’s not just the writing, the design team of Mel Page (set and costume), Richard Vabre (lighting) and Jethro Woodward (sound) bring this script into the theatre and with co-directors (and performers) Luke Mullins and Brian Lipson, they build tension so gently that we’re only aware of it when it’s released and we realise we’ve been holding our breath.

Mullins and Katherine Tonkin (who were astonishing in SPS’s The Eisteddfod) grasp Katz’s writing like it comes from their hearts. It would be so easy to miss the darkness or the hope that is hidden in Lally’s strange world, but they capture every nuance and never let Sonia or Jeremy act like anything isn’t exactly how it should be. And, for all the wonderful characters Lipson has brought us, he was born to be The Apocalypse Bear.

Reviewing is nothing but subjective opinion, but in mine, The Apocalypse Bear Trilogy is best piece of theatre I’ve seen this year.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.


More adventures of The Apocalypse Bear:
Episode # 1 and Episode # 2.

The Eisteddfod

The Eisteddfod
Malthouse Theatre
20 July 2007
The Tower, CUB MAlthouse

The Eisteddfod is another one of those amazing works that emerged from Melbourne’s independent theatre world and was given a new audience through the Malthouse’s Tower Theatre program. (I’m almost getting bored of saying how good The Tower Theatre program is.)

Stuck Pigs Squealing describe themselves as a collective of artists “dedicated to the creation of dynamic, imaginative and disturbing theatre events.” The Eisteddfod fits the criteria like a dominatrix’s leather glove and continues to prove what original and incredible theatre can be produced when the creative team are not tied to the researched wants of a demographically sorted audience.

Brother and sister Abalone and Gerture are introduced to us by the voice of Lally Katz. She is the traditional voice of god/narrator, the mother/protector and the playwright. It’s nice to really hear a playwright’s voice.
Abalone and Gerture have always liked to play make believe and since their parents tragic death in a pruning accident, agoraphobia has kept them living in the same room. Luckily Abalone has his acting Eisteddfod to rehearse for and Gerture can escape to her classroom, when Abalone isn’t pretending to be her totally unpleasant boyfriend Ian.

Lally Katz’s writing is astounding. She knows how this strange custom, where people go into dark rooms and watch other people pretend to be other people, works. She takes the absurd, makes it stranger, but makes it real. The Eisteddfod runs from parody (the meeting of the Macbeths improvisation) to uncomfortable reality (Ian asking Gerture “do you fuck me” after he has been sexually and physically humiliated). I had no idea where each scene was going to take us and was continually surprised and , strangely, satisfied.

Chris Kohn’s direction lets the audience grow into and with the nature of the work, without every letting us become complacent or too comfortable.

The design team of Adam Gardnir (set and costume), Jethro Woodward (sound) and Richard Vabre (lighting) were equally astounding. It is refreshing to see all the design elements work so intricatly and perfectly with the script and direction.

Gardnir’s design is designed for every odd need and practicality of the work. It’s intricate and delicate; filled with teddies and sewing boxes and secrets. The unexpected detail and whimsy are intriuiging and beautiful. I just loved the tiny giraffe, jaguar and tree on the record player.

Finally a work does rest on the shoulders of the people pretending to be other people. Luke Mullins and Katherine Tonkin never let Abolone and Gerture be as absurd or unreal as their situation. We believed, understood and cared for these characters. They never let us laugh AT them. The strength of their performances and the humanity they brought to the brother and sister is what makes The Eisteddfod resonate and connect with the audience.

This is theatre that questions the nature of theatre and forces its audience to engage their brains. Even if you don’t fully understand every moment, just go with the experience and see how you feel afterwards.

This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.