Review: The Seanace

The Seance
No Show
4 October 2012
Somewhere in North Melbourne
to 15 October
melbournefringe.com.au

I can't talk about The Seance, but I was there.

An intimate group of about 10 meet outside the North Melbourne Town Hall. Welcomed by our host, we chat and hear disturbing stories about the area's past and hope that we're not being taken to the old asylum.

We also promise to keep our location secret. The Fringe don't know where we go and those who have been there know that breaking a promise made in the dark isn't worth the risk.

I can say that it really is a candle-lit seance with a glass and Yes and No questions, that it guarantees a case of the heeby geebies,  that you have to book because the space is intimate, and that you HAVE to book because this is one of those shows that people will talk about and you'll be thrilled to say, "I was there".

New Melbourne company No Show believe in reaching to the other side of the stage and bringing their audience into the experience. By being an active part of the ritual, we share and create the nervousness, fear and joy experienced by performers. You're not asked to perform or embarrass yourself, just to take part.  And note that there's a bit of walking and sitting on the floor.

The Seance combines performance, ritual, obsession, celebrity, fear and the unknown to create art: brilliant and welcoming art that explores beyond the obvious, that laughs at itself, that rejects any idea of boring and finds strength in a plastic pony.

If you're open to exploring the unknown: go.

If you're scared: take a deep breath and go.

If you believe the dead are with us: go.

If you don't believe: go.

If you're dead: you can go for free.

Hang on, I went for free! ... fuck. I read a dead girl's letter, the medium spoke to me, I spoke to people – I can't remember if they spoke back. What's that light? Sophie ... ?

This was on AussieTheatre.com

Not Fringe review previews

Review: Eurotrashed

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2012
Eurotrashed
Daniel Kilby
4 October 2012
The Butterfly CLub
to 7 October
melbournefringe.com.au

Damn you Daniel Kilby! Maudit sois-tu! It took weeks to get Loreen's "Euphoria" out of my head and now it's back and it's hard to write when I'm doing the dance and looking for my own dancing ninja.

If you have no idea what I'm on about, then I'm reaching a much broader demographic than I thought. I'm talking about the annual event that stops my world, the event whose delayed finals broadcast made me turn Facebook off for the first time in years.

Eurovision. Gay Christmas. It's impossible not to love this annual celebration of white suits, glitter, wind machines and atrociously catchy pop music that's been running since 1954. Only countries in the European Broadcasting Union can compete (which includes non-European countries; I don't understand so please don't ask), but that doesn't make it any less popular in the rest of the world and it's watched by squillions.

Dan's a fan with whom I can never compare. I've forgotten who sang what by the time we get to voting at the Eurovision party;  Dan knows who scored what in 2003, has all the CDs and knows the lyrics.

He also knows the international rules of the Eurovision drinking game and Eurotrashed is a celebratory deconstruction of songs that define when and why we drink for Eurovision. If you're only drinking for white suits, key changes and fire, you have a lot to learn and have possibly been far too sober for Eurovisions past.

And he sings these songs. Just him. No dancers, no inexplicable creatures, no commentary from the wonderful Julia and Sam. Of course he is wearing a white suit and suitably glittered shoes, but who doesn't? The unexpected delight/horror is hearing the lyrics (does anyone really deserve to know what Jedward are singing?) and discovering that some songs are really quite good, and others worse than remembered.

As a first run show, it's under rehearsed and Dan needs to relax and trust that what he's doing is going to be loved. Eurotrashed must go to Midsumma after its Fringe tryout and  work with a writer and director will give it a deserved 12 points. What made his 2011 show, Things I learned in high school, so lovely was the personal stories and the chance to get to know Dan. This is missing in Eurotrashed – and I suspect that there are some very good stories that result from being drunk and covered in glitter. It also needs the obscure Eurovision trivia ramped up and a sense of the scope of this event for those who aren't as obsessed.

Meanwhile, there's one show left (Sunday). If your a Eurovision tragic, you'll get it. The hardest thing is not singing along. (Please make the next run a sing-a-long.) If you don't know Eurovision, shame on you, but Eurotrashed might inspire you to watch next year. And regardless,  you get to hang at the glorious Butterfly Club, where watching the cocktails being made is as fun as watching the shows.

This was on AussieTheatre.com

Multiple wordgasms TONIGHT

Reviewers use the word wordgasm amongst ourselves; we know who we've given one too and who we've left wanting.

But it's wordgasms for all tonight.

This week's most-shared (by my friends)
facey meme 

You know how people get a bit competitive writing witty tweets (except me, I know that I'm shit on the Twitter) –well imagine it live and with more words.

Tonight is the Inaugural Heavyweight Wordgasm Smackdown. 

Poet Laureate Telia Nevile has packed up her pirate radio station (hopefully coming back for Comedy Fest) and hosting tonight's fight. 

Combatants are from Melbourne's theatre, comedy, hip hop and comedy communities and include SM favourites like Ash Flanders, Ben McKenzie and Zoey Dawson.

There will be blood, even if it's just Ash getting a paper cut.

Entry is by donation and it starts at 11pm at the Tuxedo Cat.

All details here.

Review: Live On Air With Poet Laureate Telia Nevile

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2012

Live On Air With Poet Laureate Telia Nevile 

28 September 2012

Fringe Hub, Lithuanian Club

to 5 October

melbournefringe.com.au

I'm so not a poet

I can't rhyme for shit

So cheer out loud and thank the gods for Telia Nevile:

the Poet Laureate

We last met her back in high school

full of hope that love would come

and together they'd recite and write

and find words that they could pun

As she grew and travelled

love still slipped from her grasp

A poet's heart is special

it needs a love that lasts

Now she's on our airways

on the illegal pirate dial

It's like a podcast, but for rebels

and guaranteed to make you smile

and laugh, snort and guffaw 

and wipe away good tears

if you're the type who likes to read 

reviews that artists fear

Our poet still resents her normal family

And been on many dates gone wrong

But someone must be listening

to fall for her po-mo love song

Donning frightening fluffy slippers 

and pjs brown and tartin

she broadcasts each night to October 5

from her living room that's spartan

If you still watch Buffy

and fancy Toby or Josh from the telly

This gorgeous show is just for you

and it's directed by Matt Kelly

Come linguists all, you'll love this show

if you're witty, smart or cunning

There's naughtiness and lonely pain

and jokes far better than my punning

It's for everyone who cares for words

who reads, writes or creates

It affirms that grammar always rules

and that we should correct illiterate mates

Don't miss our adored poet

if you scrawl, word process or typewrite

You can buy tickets at the door

or book on the Melbourne Fringe website

And for more wordy love don't miss Wordgasm Smackdown on 6 October, where SM favourites like Ash Flanders, Ben McKenzie and Zoey Dawson will join Telia in a Fight Club with words.

PS: Telia, we need to talk about your use of en dashes.

This appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Review: Choir Girl

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2012
Choir Girl
28 September 2012
Fringe Hub, Lithuanian Club
to 13 October
melbournefringe.com.au

In recent Fringes and festivals, Sarah Collins has brought us gorgeous tales about adorable misfits who never lose hope. Choir Girl is as achingly funny and beautifully written as Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens in Toowoomba (Ever) and Donna and Damo, but it's a much darker story about a woman lost in loneliness.

Choir Girl Susan is alone in a house that's too big for her because her safely-gay housemate is on a Disney cruise, but promised to bring her back mouse ears, so that's ok. Luckily she's found a choir in Sandringham that wants new members and, despite the very long bus trip, she's an alto who understands the importance of blending and her 1992 local Eisteddfod–winning song shows off her voice.

For anyone who hasn't sung in a community choir, Susan's world is so accurate that I could name similar people from choirs I'd been in. There are always the "kissy kissies" who suck up to the conductor, the ones who can't sing, the ones who think they should be soloists, the men who bring cheap supermarket supper, the nightmare discussions about how much to spend on Kris Kringle and sopranos who make fun of altos. Ok, I added that last one because I know that sopranos ALWAYS make fun of altos, even those with lovely alto voices like Susan's.

Choir Girl has a smaller cast of characters than Collins's previous works, which brings us much closer to Susan than we were to Toowoomba's Kevin John and Wren or even Donna or Damo, and where as her past characters always acted from love and hope, Susan's shyness/illness leaves her acting from selfishness and hope. This makes her harder to adore, but irresistible to watch.

Her loneliness makes you so want to love her, but her cringe-worthy behaviour leaves you grateful that she's not your friend. Being torn by a character makes watching her obsession with the choir accompanist hurt – there's a $2-shop doll that nearly made me cry – as you want her to stop embarrassing herself, but want to see what she's going to do even more.

Susan's world is gloomy and what better way to light up her darkness than with a Greek-like chorus; actually, a choir – a female choir in burgundy uniforms, white tights and black patent shoes. Choir Girl was originally written without a choir, until director Celeste Cody (Attic Erratic) came on board. It's now impossible to imagine this story told in any other way.

Without breaking into Susan's isolation, the choir are both society's eyes and Susan's inner world. They sing schmaltzy love songs with her when Susan needs them, but they whisper and watch and re-inforce how much Susan isn't in harmony. By giving her company and real music (arranged by Tom Pitts) that isn't on her discman, Cody's strong direction ensures that a world that sings Britney Spears love songs is always out of Susan's reach and creates an onstage voice that isn't Susan's.

Choir Girl is different from Collins's earlier writing. It's still driven by hope, but I was surprised by its darkness – and equally as thrilled.  Susan's story is a bit sad, but its telling is so funny and full of heart that she'll stay with you long after the final applause – and you'll be singing Britney songs for days.

Open Fringe programs help wonderful theatre like this to find an audience. I may never have discovered her writing without a Fringe, and that's a terrible thought.


This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com

FRINGE review previews

And go to AussieTheatre for read other reviews.

And there are sites like Buzzcuts, SameSame, TimeOut, Australian Stage, ArtsHub

Best is to google Melbourne Fringe reviews and see what pops up.

Pozible Psycho Beach Party

Stephen Nicolazzo's Little Ones Theatre is a SM favourite and even though Psycho Beach Party is on in Sydney (I'll try for a cheap flight), it's a bloody (literally) great project to support.

We all complain about there not being enough funding for art, so let's take change this and help to fund it ourselves.

Some of us have less money than others, but support isn't just about cash.

Review: The Well

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2012
The Well
La Mama
23 September 2012
season finished
melbournefringe.com.au

The Well was sold out, which is awesome for everyone involved, but a shame for those who missed out.

Playwright and director Robert Reid (The Joy of Text, On the production of monsters) has been working with Monash university performing arts students for three years. Being in a uni, and having the support of MUST (Monash Uni Student Theatre), gave him and his performers an opportunity that most professional companies can't offer:  significant time to workshop, explore, rehearse and work together to create something that truly reflects who they are and how they create.

The Well began as a 2006 apocalyptic story that Reid wasn't satisfied with, so he used it as the starting point to develop something new. Time with a cast has let him cut and polish to find the stories hidden in the words. The text is evocative and beautiful with a sense of humour that sneaks up until it's hard to remember when it didn't feel so funny – but it's the process and performance that makes it so intriguing.

In the black box of La Mama, there are no chairs and the audience drift. At first it's hard to differentiate audience from performers, especially as some audience members are happy to join in.  There's no intimidating audience participation, but it's a story told by a group of 17, so it's easy to join the group and feel personally involved in the story. The audience are gently moved to different watching spaces as the storytelling unfolds and by using all of the space, the La Mama box feels as vast as the tale.

At first, it's also difficult to find a narrative among the images of magnificent stars, ancient gods and confusion. But as it becomes clear that the earth has been flung off its axis, there are time travel paradoxes and government conspiracies and aliens to face, but it's the intimacy of individual stories that bring the story to life. Some stories easier to follow than others, but each is complete enough that if you only follow one, that's enough. Or there's the option to just stick with the dude in the pink panther suit.

Time, trust and the freedom to experiment and question creates art that resonates. It's not always possible, but this piece of barely-funded student theatre is intimate, fascinating and engaging and would never be created in a commercial professional setting.

This appeared on AussieThearte.com

Review: Hello my name is

MELBOURNE FRINGE 2012
Hello my name is
Theatre Works and Sans Hotel/Nicola Gunn
19 September 2012
Theatre Works
to 29 September
theatreworks.org.au

Hello, my name is Anne-Marie and Nicola Gunn made me confront one of my greatest public fears.

Like many theatre goers, I like the safe dark space that secures my anonymity from the performers in the lights.  Creator and performer Gunn likes to bring us into the same space. After all, what's the point of performing if there isn't an audience to share it with?

Audience participation! I can hear you running away. Come back. It's ok. Really. This show really is safe and easy and fun. Except what she made me do.

Hello my name is finds us in a white and welcoming community hall. The plastic chairs are in a non-contronting circle, there's free tea and coffee for a donation, and we're not sure if we're booked for a games night, scrap booking class, breath and yoga forgiveness workshop or an AA meeting.

As soon as Nicola says 'Hello, my name is Nicola' in multiple languages, there's no doubt that the night is going to be far more curious and interesting than any community learn to crochet class. Part personal confession, part astute social commentary and part absurdly gorgeous vision, she takes us beyond the passive aggressive bitterness of a community worker into the passion and frustration of an artist and exposes the beauty of conga lines, pink Care Bears, hand holding and falling glitter.

But what did I have to do in public?

There was a karaoke machine, so I sat in a mid-distance spot, hoping to project nonchalance rather than the truth that I'd rather flash than sing in public. I was safe. Then there was the dancing. I'm blessed with the inability to move with any semblance of grace or coordination, but everyone took part and even I could keep up. I hoped to be allowed to play Scrabble or to knit in public (so my theatre experience really would be like sitting on my couch), but I wasn't that lucky. 

When given paper and my choice of pens/pencils/charcoal, I was thrilled at the the thought of writing in public. But one doesn't write with charcoal. And as the realisation hit, I was ready to jitterbug to that karaoke machine and sing "Wake me up before you go go" before I was ready to DRAW in public. 

It wasn't pretty. And anyone sitting near me will confirm that it's best for everyone to keep drawing implements away from me. But I did it, and if art is about exposing and confronting fears, then Nicola Gunn re-defined cathartis for me.

Hello my name is leaves no space to hide in the dark, but don't be scared of the light because this hilarious, confronting, beautiful and weird show will leave you smiling and feeling so much better for the experience.

This appeared on AussieTheatre.com

Fringe Lite

It's Fringe time.

This is usually a time of yay, interviews, mad writing and a three-shows-a-day-isn't-enough attitude.

By the number of emails and invites I'm getting, I could too easily fill the next weeks without even trying. And I'm flattered by the invites.

But I'm still crook and have to do Fringe Lite 2012.

I'm trying to answer as many emails as I can, but please forgive me if I don't get back to you personally.

Review: Happy Ending

Happy Ending
Melbourne Theatre Company
7 September 2012
Southbank Theatre, The Lawler
to 22 September
mtc.com.au

Even if she hasn't had much of late, 40-something Louise hasn't forgotten the thrill of wild and illicit sex, and the possibly-too-young Chinese masseur at the local mall is unintentionally finding her more-please spots and she's hoping for 'that' kind of happy ending.

In her new play Happy Ending, Melissa Reeves takes us away from hipster lanes and into a shopping mall where she understands and revels in the satisfaction of a bad latte and an instant McMassage. It's no barrista-made, freshly-roasted single-origin espresso with too-beautiful-to-stir foam art and time with an experienced therapist who wants to help you heal, but it's cheap and easy – and close enough can be damn good.

Nell Feeny (Louise) captures the frustration of a woman who's happy, but not satisfied. She has a good friend to talk to (Roz Hammond), a toddler who never cries and daily massages, but, of course, the musak and IKEA-screen facade of intimacy and exotic healing aren't enough.

Louise buys herself a new second-hand emerald ring, but she really wants the handsome young masseur, also called Lu, who's happy to take her money but awkward about seeing her tits. So, as her daily business isn't getting his attention, she creates her own fake massage business to find out how the Chinese do business.

With gloriously awkward scenes like taking Lu (Gareth Yuen) and his boss (hilarious Fanny Hanusin) to dinner in Little Bourke Street and subtitles that let us hear what her Chinese friends really think, Louise's quest is embarrassingly familiar – who hasn't made a fool of themselves in the quest for a great shag? – but embarrassment isn't as funny or as powerful as humiliation. Louise is always OK and there's room for more cringing and for danger, especially as it's hard to know what Louise stood to lose with her Lu obsession, which made it difficult to support or want to stop her quest for a happy.

With its comically blessed cast and director Susie Dee finding extra dark humour,  Happy Ending is as satisfying as a McMassage. It's enjoyable and it really hurts when it hits the personal spots, but it feels like it should be more intimate and personal.

Photo by Melissa Cowan

FYI

I haven't fallen off the edge of the earth or found my TARDIS key, but the curse of unwell is keeping me on the couch instead of being where I'd much prefer to be. Yes, I mean theatres.