Perhaps it’s the awe of huddling together en masse under a big top that feels like a giant’s cubbyhouse, waiting to enter another world that creates the expectant hush. We’ve been promised a David Attenborough-esque peek into the life of insects and the excitement in the air is as palpable as the heavy tang of popcorn.

With countless impressive productions that have toured the world in the 30-odd years since Cirque du Soleil was founded, this Montreal-based troupe of acrobats, contortionists, clowns, jugglers and gymnasts have an extraordinary amount of hype to live up to, so it’s probably not surprising that Ovo begins more with a scuttle than a bang.  

A collective of crickets picks its way past the crowd with admirable adroitness, considering the large pair of hind hoppers they are sporting. They are joined by a host of colourful creepy crawlies, one of which, a mozzie-like Foreigner (Barthelemy Glumineau), is lugging a large egg (or “ovo” in Portuguese) on his back towards the stage. There is a brief altercation and the egg is snatched, before the insects are compelled by a psychedelic-looking beetle called Flipo (Simon Bradbury) to begin what looks a bit like an ’80s Jazzercise session. At first we are more perplexed than amazed by this panto-style acid flashback of jiggling, gyrating forms in technicoloured lycra – what’s with all this… dancing?   

But thankfully after awkward beginnings a small army of red ants arrive to get the oohing and ahhing underway. Together these six flame-coloured Chinese jugglers display superhuman dexterity as they lie on their backs flipping giant slices of kiwifruit in a fantastic display of fancy footwork.  

Next we are treated to an avant-garde interlude as an aerial artist wiggles up and down a rope inside a silk cocoon. It’s arty but not exactly awe-inspiring. But this is the way the show is set to play out. There are moments of stunning spectacle followed by pretty bits of padding. Perhaps it’s expecting too much for the ants to keep at it for the entire duration?  

That said, there are still plenty of show-stopping peaks in this production that’s assembled 54 brilliantly talented performers from 16 countries. A Ukrainian butterfly duo (Svitlana Kashevarova and Dmytro Orel) performs a breathtaking aerial ballet suspended from a swinging rope; a squadron of scarabs fly through the air with the greatest of ease on a trapeze; contortionist spiders twist into impossible shapes; a family of iridescent orange fleas support each other’s weight to reach impossible heights; the chorus of crickets returns to get the place pumping with a trampoline-enhanced series of somersaults that are outstanding in their athleticism; a firefly (Tony Frebourg) who’s a dynamo with a set of diabolos creates a juggling display that inspires rapturous applause; and a slackwire spiderman (Julaiti Ailati) proves that arachnids can indeed unicycle, all without leaving the comfort of their web.   

In between, there is whimsical clowning from the three main characters as ringmaster Flipo distracts the hapless Foreigner from retrieving his egg by helping him woo the cute and curvaceous Ladybug (Michelle Matlock). There are breathtakingly beautiful flowers that open and astound with their size and lifelike fragility. And there are undeniably imaginative costumes (Liz Vandal) and makeup (Julie Begin) that propel the feats of physical prowess into an otherworldly realm. So it’s not too hard to forgive the underwhelming dance routines that fill the gaps between the moments of magic.

Ovo, while not perhaps as perfect as it could hope to be, is still a tantalising trip for young and old alike, offering a serving of rarefied circus snippets that linger long after the insects have flown from the stage.

Cirque du Soleil presents
Ovo

Dates: Sydney, Setpember 13 to November 25, 2012
Venue:  Under the Big Top on The Showring at the Entertainment Quarter, 122 Lang Road, Moore Park
Bookings: www.cirquedusoleil.com

This review first appeared on Australian Stage

Together with his merry band of consummate musicians, Bobby rocks the Norths Showroom with the kind of panache it hasn’t seen in probably a good couple of decades as he whips through a smorgasbord of Neil Diamond’s greatest. Notable highlights include Cherry Cherry, Song Sung Blue – where a couple of star-struck audience members get a chance to croon along with him – I’m a Believer, that became a smash hit for The Monkees, and a funky new arrangement of Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon.

His female backup singer steals the limelight for a fraction of a second with her Barbra Streisand-esque rendition of the duet You Don’t Bring Me Flowers, but then Bobby takes it back just in time for a big finale of I Am…I Said and another encore of Sweet Caroline – of course.

After the show Bobby and wife/manager Leanne are sitting at a table and he’s signing his own CDs. I nearly buy one, but then I don’t, because I don’t want to risk spoiling the memories I’ll have looking back on this night. And it’s that sense of nostalgia, that once in a lifetime flashback to another place and another time that gives a great live tribute act like Nearly Neil its power. Bring on the Oscars for impersonators I say, and give one to Neil, I mean Bobby, because he deserves one.

Nearly Neil is currently touring Australia. Visit www.nearlyneil.com for details.

Nearly Neil and his Aussie Band

Venue: North Sydney Leagues Club | Sydney, NSW
Date: Friday, June 29, 2012
Tour Dates: visit www.nearlyneil.com

This review first appeared on Australian Stage July 2012

Whittet’s examination eschews the A Current Affair-style horror stats to take a more intimate and tender approach, peaking into the home life of one average thirty-something man grappling with the consequences of his own abandonment at the age of three. Daniel (Leon Ford) awakes one morning to find his wife Sam (Alison Bell) and their two children have mysteriously disappeared. There’s no note, no explanation, they just aren’t there anymore. Confused and bereft, he contacts his mother Carol (Gillian Jones) to help make sense of it all. But instead of gaining answers their talk simply raises more questions; and doubts. Has he been a good husband and father? And how could he really expect to be one when he never had a father of his own?

Old Man is a play of two styles. “Part One”, as director Anthea Williams refers to it, is a kind of rambling first-person narrative where the characters speak directly to the audience. Their emotions pour out unfiltered as genuine reactions rather than considered responses. The effect is that the action flows over us and through us, we become a part of it. We are inside the characters heads thinking their thoughts and feeling them. This could be ponderous stuff, but Williams has a lightness of touch; when pressure is applied it’s meaningful because she hasn’t been beating us about the head with it relentlessly.

Of course plaudits must go to the cast. Leon Ford, like Whittet, a father himself, has put that emotional homework to good use here crafting a performance that is sensitive, astute and restrained – when it needs to be. Most men don’t let it all hang out, even when no one’s watching, and there’s an acknowledgement of that in the pitch of Ford’sperformance. Even in the height of despair he holds it together. Because that’s what a man has to do, right? It’s this question of how to “be”, how to behave and react, that lies at the heart of this work and is its most fascinating aspect, from a performance point of view.

When we flip over to “Part Two” sans interval via blackout, we are given a diametrically opposed style of emotional walls, as the fourth wall abruptly arrives to push the characters back inside themselves. What is said and left unsaid now becomes the riveting focus of a plot that turns everything we took for granted on its head.

While Ford carries the bulk of Old Man on his shoulders – in this, his impressive Belvoir debut – barely leaving the stage for the tightly wound 75 minutes duration, Alison Bell’s subtle influence as Sam resonates throughout and is profoundly felt. Madeleine Benson sparkles as headstrong teen Charlotte, a young actor with a bright future indeed; and Peter Carroll lends weight as absent father Albert by hiding all the answers Daniel seeks behind a gentle, cheery countenance.

Whittet won the 2010 Philip Parsons Young Playwrights Award with his proposal for this play. It’s a work well suited to the close embrace of the Downstairs space, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it were to creep Upstairs at Belvoir sooner rather than later.

Belvoir presents
Old Man
by Matthew Whittet

Director Anthea Williams

Venue: Downstairs Theatre | Belvoir St Theatre, 25 Belvoir St Surry Hills
Dates: 7 June – 15 July, 2012
Bookings: www.belvoir.com.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage June 2012

Hard work seems to be the short answer. An off-Broadway play he wrote back in the early ’90s, Five Women Wearing The Same Dress became his entrée into TV writing for Grace Under Fire. Next came three years of what Ball describes as a living hell writing “moments of shit” for actress Cybill Sepherd’s eponymous sitcom. What could have easily become a plodding career as a hack (including a stint on a show writing dialogue for a talking dog) was miraculously turned around when Ball stayed up late at night after coming home from frustrating days on Cybill and hammered out a very angry draft of the script that would change everything, American Beauty. Flash forward to Ball at the Oscars for said script plying himself with a hipflask of scotch just to keep it together. Thankfully he did, and went on to create the moving, funny and disfunctionally charming Six Feet Under, and now the raunchy, darkly witty and riveting vamp-fest True Blood.

The key to his works’ appeal, he says, is his ability to combine death and humour. It’s a coping mechanism he learnt when he came face to face with the grim reaper, when his sister died, as he puts it, “literally all over me” in a car accident. The experience changed everything, setting him on the path to taking from life and working “organically”, letting his characters guide the way.

While the night is mostly a series of questions from Anderson and film clips bringing everyone up to speed on Ball’s career, the best bits (like Ball’s work itself) are in the details. We discover how he gets his dialogue to work so well: he writes it aloud, while listening to music that gets him in the zone. He reveals the joy of writing characters that explore murky emotional territory – they are neither victims nor villains, but instead an imperfect mingling of both. He shares his innovative approach to structuring satisfying TV: the more characters and the more diverse they are the merrier. That way everyone can find someone to relate to.

Ultimately though, what’s really satisfying about being here for Vampires, Death & The Mundane is hearing Ball so enthused about TV as a medium. For unlike a two-hour film that by necessity must stick to a finite amount of character developments and a limited number of plot points, TV offers a “broad canvas” on which to play. The result is characters that can, and often do, believably pull off 180-degree turns over the course of a season, surprising us with the unthinkable. And Ball is positive about the future of TV, pointing to the kind of challenging stuff being produced now. He mentions Breaking Bad and Dexter and even South Park as proof that we are in a “Golden Age”. It’s stimulating stuff, and with any luck his message will inspire the next generation of TV writers to think well beyond the confines that were once prescribed to the box.

ALAN BALL: VAMPIRES, DEATH & THE MUNDANE

Venue: Concert Hall, Sydney Opera House
Date/Time: 7pm, Thursday 8 September, 2011
Bookings: 02 9250 7777

This review first appeared on Australian Stage September 2011

The strengths of this production lie in its well-drawn and developed characters: Piper (Kathryn Schuback), the writer whose quest for the truth has a deeper personal dimension; Kitty (Aileen Huynh) a local girl who is keen to help but has complicated loyalties; Mickey (John Buencamio) a novice monk who wrestles with the demands of staying true to his religious path while attempting to settle an old score; The Major (Felino Dolloso) the military man who must convince himself that the ends justifies the bloody means; and Pluto (Barton Williams) a wounded student who has suffered unspeakable atrocities at the hands of soldiers like The Major.

Each of these characters has a rock-solid inner truth and an interesting internal conflict to deal with (compulsory components for good drama) and is brought to the stage by actors who have carefully done their homework and weighed up the nuances required. Felino Dolloso’s Major, in particular, is a finely tuned and powerful performance that has the ability to move us and draw us into the emotional complexities of being trapped on the darker side of the struggle for freedom. Indeed as the oppressor it becomes pointedly clear that he too is equally oppressed.Dolloso’s monologues are the high point in this production and indicate an actor of great depth who’s full of exciting promise.

Where A Quiet Night In Rangoon falters and ultimately fails, however, is in the theatrical device it employs to lighten the mood. This comes in the guise of a character that plays The Internet (Sonya Kerr). So jarring is the comedic approach taken here that we are jolted back out of any meaningful point of connection (that had been gaining momentum) into a place that’s facile and trivial. Laughter in a play of this sort just seems grossly misplaced and inappropriate to the extreme, at least that was my response to it. It made it difficult to move through and then reconnect with the more weightier and meatier elements that I was keen to be absorbed by, which was a real shame.

While I’m always keen to encourage audiences to get out and see new Australian work, particularly with such a rich and interesting multicultural cast as this one, with the case of A Quiet Night In Rangoon I’m left slightly reluctant to do so. I do believe, however, that there is a good play in here trying to get out, and with some sensitive structural adjustments it just could be a great one, but it’s not there yet.

subtlenuance in association with The Spare Room presents
A Quiet Night in Rangoon
by Katie Pollock

Venue: New Theatre, 542 King Street, Newtown
Dates: 18 August – 10 September 2011
Times: Tuesday – Saturday @ 8pm, Sunday @ 5pm
Tickets: Full $30 | Concessions $25 | Preview Wednesday 17 August $20 | Cheap Tuesdays $10 (min)
Bookings: 1300 306 776 | www.mca-tix.com.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage August 2011

There’s something more meaningful here too, in between the jokes about Americans and how to get the most out of long-haul flights. Wil wants us to GROW. You can feel it. It’s in the way that he pushes this mostly mainstream audience into uncomfortable territory and pleads with them to dip their toe into the in-between places, the murky shades of grey.

When it’s curtain time, I find I’m left with a warm and fuzzy projection. It’s Wil, and he’s home alone in his little flat snuggled up with his three purring moggies, reading the Kinsey Report to them; and possibly musing on the peculiarities of gender constructs in the Western world. Now there’s nothing possibly smug or wankerish about that.

Token Events presents
MAN VS. WIL
Wil Anderson

Venue: The Comedy Store
Dates: August 4 – 28, 2011
Time: 7pm
Tickets: $30 Thurs & Sun; $35 Fri & Sat
Bookings: 02 9357 1419 | www.comedystore.com.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage August 2011

Piranha Heights is full of revelations, surprises and, when Medic and Garth crash in, the kind of frenetic, crazy adrenaline-charged energy that makes for dynamite theatre. What starts as an emotional family drama: two brothers arguing over the title deed to their dead mum’s apartment quickly careens into something akin to a Tarantino movie on acid as Medic and Garth start to bond over a shared penchant for a bit of the ultra violence. It’s an incisive exploration of what happens when two unstable personalities, each just holding it together on their own combine; what happens when Nitro meets Glycerine or when one piranha meets his flesh-eating soulmate.

Matthew Hyde is mesmerising as Medic, a dangerous, pumped up speed-fuelled dreamer who longs for his and Lily’s baby son Bubba (a plastic doll) to build a time machine so they can go back and find out what really happened to Elvis. Brynn Loosemore is equally engaging and more than just a little bit twisted as the tormented teen Garth. He’s the kind of kid who makes Damien from The Omen look really well adjusted.

Jason Langley is sympathetic and assured as the do-gooder brother who unwittingly brings Medic and Garthtogether, while Heath Wilder lends strong, solid support as Alan, helping to firmly balance the juxtaposition of the real and surreal in this exciting and energetic production from talented director Fiona Hallenan-Barker.

In a local theatre scene that’s been a bit hit and miss of late, this darkly funny, outrageously perverse and yet strangely endearing comedy is a definite must-see on the independent hit list for those who like to take their theatre laced with a dash of “KA BOOM”.

Shedding Skin and The Spare Room presents
PIRANHA HEIGHTS
by Philip Ridley

Director Fiona Hallenan-Barker

Venue: New Theatre | 542 King St, Newtown
Dates: 16 June – 2 July 2011
Times: Tues – Sat @ 8pm, Sunday @ 5pm
Tickets: Full $30, Concession $25
Bookings: 1300 306 776 | www.mca-tix.com.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage June 2011

The man responsible for creating the Method, Stanislavsky, once said that when encountering Chekhov’s plays for the first time you might think, “This is good, but… it’s nothing special, nothing to stun you with admiration”. He was of course talking about the surface of them. Because on the surface they are very ordinary; not much plot, nothing really “happens”, just a lot of people killing time and gasbagging away. But beneath this flimsy façade there’s subtext bubbling away – buckets of it. Or as Stanislavsky puts it, it’s in the recalling that the full impact hits you. “You recollect some phrases and scenes, you feel you want to think about them more, think about them longer… then you realise the depths hidden under the surface.”
In essence, director Benedict Andrews’ new Belvoir production of The Seagull is a case in point. RippingChekhov’s 19th century play out of Russia and transplanting it into contemporary Australia, to a fibro shack ‘somewhere on the coast’, draws attention to how little it actually is about time and place, and how much it is about basic humanity and “real life” (whatever that is) and the way we live it. We humans, it seems, have changed very little. We bicker, we fight, we love, we betray one another, and the world just keeps on turning.

And yet there’s more to it than that – of course. The Seagull is also a play about plays and it’s this self-reflexive nature that has Andrews enthralled. He couldn’t have made a better choice than to put Judy Davis smack bang in the middle of it as the fading actress Irena Nikolayevna, whose ego is hungry to hold on to the glory days, that is if he wanted to stir up questions about the “old guard” and when they are going to get off the stage and give the kids the floor. With so much of the theatre in this country still being made for Boomer audiences and by people well past their prime, it’s easy to see his frustration. Of course at Belvoir the guard is changing, too, and The Seagullembodies that in the form of Konstantin (Dylan Young), Irena’s passionate young aspiring playwright son who is bursting at the seams to get out there and try to produce something much better, more challenging and interesting than anything she’s ever done (new artistic director Ralph Myers, anyone?).

All Belvoir parallels aside, The Seagull is a much broader meditation on art and life. It’s all there in the big bold neon stage lights “Real Life” (designed by Ralph Myers). It seeks to ask, can we represent life truthfully in art, and indeed, what is truth anyway, when what is real for one is a lie to another?

At the heart of The Seagull is also this understanding that we are all constantly moving into our new forms – like it or not! The only other alternative is to be trapped in the birthing process and the result of that can mean only one thing, death.

Of course it’s a great cast: Judy Davis, David Wenham, Bille Brown, John Gaden, Anita Hegh, Emily Barclay, but as it’s such a big ensemble play they don’t get to flex their individual muscle as much as the audience may like. They get moments.

When Barclay mooches onto the stage draped in chiffon as Masha and squats to pull a bucket bong, you just know that this is not going to be your usual Upstairs fare. She’s the depressive of the play and yet her performance is a firecracker. Anyone who saw her in the film Suburban Mayhem will remember she does bogan to a tee, but here she’s that and oh so much more as she slurps cornflakes out of a bowl drowned in vodka heartbroken overKonstantin, who ignores her. When she’s on stage she’s riveting.

More disappointing are the roles for Wenham (whose Trigorin is so self-obsessed that there’s very little to observe on the surface of things) and for Davis, in particular, with this clever casting ploy somewhat back-firing. Largely it’s because Davis is so perfect for the role of Irena that she has the appearance of simply drifting through the action. She just “is” the version of herself that we all want her to be: predictably spoilt, self indulgent, trying to fan the flames of a youth that’s gone out with a hiss. Although, there is a moment that’s a revelation, dragging us back into “the real”. When Davis pulls the skin back on her face to indicate the price of fame and the role we, the audience, have played in it – the ridicule, the insecurity and the surgery that results from being held too long under the microscope – we are in awe!

Billie Brown is warm and captivating as the lothario doctor Dorn; John Gaden is witty and wry as Irena’s brotherSorin; Maeve Dermody is fragile and doomed as the aspiring young actress who sucks up men’s hearts like a vacuum cleaner; and Dylan Young is all intense angst and impotent rage as the neglected Konstantin, whose mother is so consumed with loving herself that she just has time to barely notice him.

With the pared back set, all the bells and whistles are in the casting – and in those moments. Andrews’ “montage” moment as the ash falls from the sky and the actors stay stuck as time passes is one that works brilliantly. It’s in times like these that we recognise that there’s something of each one of these characters in all of us. They become vessels for our own memories of life’s mistakes, heartbreaks and betrayals. We are each and every one of them. We are The Seagull…

Belvoir presents
The Seagull
by Anton Chekhov
in a version by Benedict Andrews

Directed by Benedict Andrews

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre, 25 Belvoir St, Surry Hills
Dates: 4 June – 17 July, 2011
Times: Tuesday 6.30pm, Wednesday to Friday 8pm, Saturday 2pm & 8pm, Sunday 5pm
Tickets: Full $59. Seniors (excluding Fri/Sat evenings) and Groups 10+ $49. Concession $39
Bookings: 02 9699 3444 | www.belvoir.com.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage June 2011

But more than the extraordinary life of one man, Namatjira is a story about friendship, as it chronicles his connection with mentor Rex Battarbee (the whitefella who taught him how to wield a brush); and it’s a tale of love: both between Albert and his soul mate Rubina and between Albert and his extended community that, for better or for worse, he finds he must financially support.

While it’s a great yarn in and of itself, it’s how it plays out that leaves me dizzy, grasping for words. Scott Rankinand Wayne Blair unite to co-direct a piece that pays tribute to a diverse array of musical genres. From moving missionary songs sung in snippets of the Western Arrente language to a full-blown camp cabaret version of Barry White’s “Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe” the terrain is expansive, entertaining and highly original.

Jamieson frequently juggles multiple characters in conversation with each other, the result being something that feels akin to a channelled performance. One minute he’s Albert, the next he’s Battarbee and yet the back-and-forth illusion is jaw dropping. And the way he moves is something else entirely – his agility in conveying a sense of place with his body is simply unparalled. His cohort, Derek Lynch, is a firm crowd favourite too. A talented young performer, Lynch frequently generates rapturous rounds of applause thanks to his many hilarious costume changes which serve to lighten the mood at appropriate junctures.

The innovative stage design (Genevieve Dugard) which features a carved movable platform resembling a rocky outcrop, much like the ones Albert painted, is inspired; however it’s the actual descendants of Namatjira, who surround the stage working on a marvellous chalk mural of ghost gums and rolling hills together, that’s the ultimate touch of magic. Oh, and did I mention that the acclaimed portraiture artist Evert Ploeg (who’s won the People’s Choice Award at two Archibalds) paints Jamieson as Albert throughout the show?

This super smart, highly evolved and ambitious piece of theatre is a real testament to the production company that made it, Big hART. A not-for-profit organisation that works intensively with disadvantaged communities creating social and political change through art and performance, Big hART were behind the award-winning Ngapartji Ngapartji (which was co-created and performed by Jamieson). With this production they’ve built on the connections they made in Alice Springs, spending two years developing this piece directly with Albert Namatjira’s family and community. The actors even travelled to Hermannsburg where the family taught them how to paint.

The meticulous care and love that’s been put into this production is written all over it, and the result is a triumph of art-meets-storytelling-meets-song-meets-music that’s a one of a kind.

Belvoir & Big hART present
Namatjira 
by Scott Rankin

Directed by Scott Rankin & Wayne Blair

Venue: Upstairs Theatre | 25 Belvoir St Surry Hills
Dates: 25 September – 7 November, 2010
Times: Tuesday 6.30pm, Wednesday – Friday 8pm, Saturday 2pm & 8pm, Sunday 5pm
Tickets: Full Price $57, Concession $35
Bookings: www.belvoir.com.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage October 2010

Next, he put lesbians through the wringer for the usual clichéd character flaws you’ve heard time and time again. According to Jefferies gay men are much more fun; although you’d wonder how he’d know as he doesn’t strike you as the type to be lending support at a gay pride rally. There was safer territory when he mixed toilet humour with blind guide dogs. True, it was tasteless, but still chuckle worthy stuff. But the centrepiece of the night was a true story, about helping a mate with muscular dystrophy get his rocks off with a hooker. For the first time there were genuine laughs to be had. Largely that was because the disabled man’s brother was actually in the audience and Jefferies kept checking in with him to make sure that the story was above board. Because of this it was actually touching in parts and very funny, although like a horny schoolboy Jefferies couldn’t resist a good gross out moment, which was a pity.

But as the hour wore on it seemed like the Jack and Coke started to do more of the talking as he stumbled around the stage and turned nasty on an Irish heckler down the front. The poor bloke got more than he’d bargained for when Jefferies started insulting his dead mother in ways much too foul to mention. Then, quite abruptly, the night was over, as Jefferies slurred, “My bladder’s full. I need to take a piss”, and we all gratefully ran for the door a bit shaken more than stirred. As we walked down the stairs and out onto the street I overheard a girl ahead of us say, “I feel like I need to be disinfected”, and I knew exactly what she meant; because trying to laugh at the jokes of Jim Jefferies is a bit like being handed a colourful cocktail of super-strength rocket fuel. At first you think “woo hoo, I’ll give this a burl”, but as soon as it’s down the hatch you quickly discover it’s actually a glass full of battery acid and razorblades.

Jim Jefferies
No Angel

Venue: Comedy Store Sydney | The Entertainment Quarter, Moore Park (Formerly Fox Studios)
Dates: Wed 30 June – Sat 3 July & Tue 6 July – Sat 10 July, 2010
Times: 8:30pm (Bar opens 7pm); two hours featuring supports
Tickets: Tues $10.00, Wed $15.00, Thurs $20.00, Fri $25.00, Saturday $30.00
Bookings: Comedy Store Sydney Box Office 02 9357 1419 | www.comedystore.com.au

Persons under 18 years must be accompanied by a parent or guardian.

This review first appeared on Australian Stage July 2010

Featuring a flawless cast including Rhys Muldoon, Marshall Napier, Christopher Stollery, Graham Rouse andLuke Mullins among others, who all talk the talk and walk the walk like bona fide bankers across a stage that’s strewn with multi-coloured balloons that have all been burst like the proverbial bubble, this is an exceptional production that’s also a hoot. The groovy jazz soundtrack (Steve Francis) and inspired stage design (Dale Ferguson) which includes a stage within a stage that’s viewed through a window which also acts as a whiteboard, combine to give this production a slick and polished feel that keep the audience’s imagination constantly engaged for the duration of this one-act marvel. The use too of inflated balloons in the play as props provides an inspired and playful way to illustrate the buoyant and upbeat attitudes of the times that led to the reckless actions of so many of the players involved in the markets’ undoing.

Forget all the dry, dull and confusing ideas you may have about finance, catch The Power Of Yes and you are guaranteed to come away buzzing with a new understanding that in the very least is sure to provide fertile fodder for your next meeting with your local bank manager.

Company B Belvoir presents
The Power of Yes
by David Hare

Directed by Sam Strong

Venue: Belvoir St Theatre, Upstairs Theatre | 25 Belvoir St, Surry Hills
Dates: 17 Apr – 30 May, 2010
Times: Tue 6.30pm; Wed-Fri 8pm; Sat 2pm & 8pm; Sun 5pm.
Tickets: $35.00 – $57.00
Bookings: 02 9699 3444 | www.belvoir.com.au 

This review first appeared on Australian Stage April 2010

The American filmmaker Woody Allen once lamented: “Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering – and it’s all over much too soon.” He wasn’t having a beer with Samuel Beckett at the time, but if he had been the Irish playwright would have no doubt grinned and agreed with him. Because that’s the absurdity of the human condition that Beckett so brilliantly illuminates. We are born, we live, we breathe, we bitch and moan about it, and then we die.

In The End – Beckett’s 22-page novella that is here adapted in its entirety for the stage – his lone male narrator is as downtrodden as they come. We may not know much about him, but we can be sure of one thing, and that is that life has already given up on him. The local charity organization certainly has, they won’t even let him shelter in the cloister for much longer than the rain lasts. And then he’s forced to rent the only lodgings he can find, a squalid basement devoid of natural light, where his only pleasure is looking up the skirts of the women passing by. Later, he finds momentary salvation with a Hermit in a cave by the coast where fish and shelter are plentiful. However, this fleeting promise of paradise is not to be – he can’t stand the sea! Of course, things get worse, as you’d know doubt expect, after all it is Beckett. The narrative follows the sad, and often perversely funny ramblings of this poor soul as he marches ever onward from the embrace of despair into the arms of death.

The extraordinary Robert Menzies, an actor of the highest calibre, brings this incredibly challenging material to the stage in a 65-minute monologue that’s as intense and tightly wound as a mousetrap. Without the usual distractions provided by an elaborate set and high-tech sound wizardry the opening-night audience were captivated, unable to look away as they sat rigid in their seats, hanging on his every breath and anxious twitch. The only respite was the brief breaks between paragraphs, when Menzies paused momentarily and stepped away from his mark on the floor. Kudos should go to Teegan Lee for her delicate and subtle lighting changes that help to refocus the action during these crucial shifts.

Director Eamon Flack has ably coaxed an immensely vulnerable performance from Menzies. However, with the despair so absolute from the get-go there were times when it seemed, to this reviewer at least, that there was nowhere further down to go. Perhaps too this minimalist production missed out on the opportunity to visually show the degradation of this character through breaking down the costuming. For at the close of the play Menzies’ neat white shirt and trousers have barely a crinkle. Of course the purists out there would surely say that’s piffle – it’s an inward journey we are watching and anything that obvious may have come across as distracting window dressing. And who knows? Maybe they are right, but still, it would have been fun to see excrement and muck flying into the front rows.

Fellow writer Harold Pinter once said of Samuel Beckett “the more he grinds my nose in the shit the more I am grateful to him”, and that, pretty much, sums up what an audience should ultimately expect to gain from seeing this production of The End.

Company B Belvoir presents
The End
by Samuel Beckett

Directed by Eamon Flack

Venue: Belvoir St Downstairs Theatre | 25 Belvoir St, Surry Hills
Dates: 15 April – 9 May, 2010
Times: Tues @ 7.00pm, Wed – Sat @ 8.15pm, Sun @ 5.15pm.
Tickets: Full $42. Seniors (Excluding Fri/Sat Evenings), Concession $32
Bookings: 9699 3444 | www.belvoir.com.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage April 2010

The masterpiece of the night is Vanessa Bates’ Confetti#1 which weaves together elements of observation and nostalgia into a potent mix that truly transports us. Featuring the fine acting talents of Anna Lise Phillips and comedy stylings of Robert Jago, this gem of a play is worth the price of admission alone.

While some of the other pieces on the night have small failings, all in all it’s an intriguing collection of work that should be welcomed and applauded for its originality and scope. So climb aboard the 428 if you’re after a riveting ride with plenty of interesting pit stops along the way!

Stories from the 428
4 Directors, 2 Weeks, 8 Writers

Venue: Sidetrack Theatre | 142 Addison Road, Marrickville, NSW
Dates: Week One: 8pm Wednesday – Saturday, 24, 25, 26, 27 March & 5pm Sunday 28 March
Week Two: 8pm Wednesday – Saturday, 31 March, 1, 2, 3 April & 5pm Sunday 4 April
Tickets: $25 full, $20 concession
Bookings: www.sidetracktheatre.com.au
Information: www.storiesfromthe428.com

This review first appeared on Australian Stage March 2010

Right from the opening tableau, which features the entire cast onstage preoccupied in a rhythmic reading and scrunching of paper to the dreamy yet playful score of composer Catherine Robinson, we know that this a theatre experience that is bigger than the sum of its parts. There’s a unity to it that’s reinforced byPaul Matthews inspired set design, a compartmentalised structure of fantasy-like filing cabinets stuffed with reams of paper, which brings to mind both the intangible and unconscious landscape of thoughts and ideas as well as the very concrete nature of the writing process itself.

Through the course of the evening we get to embrace the myriad of guises a small play can take. There’s the monologues, Self Service and White Wedding which engage us directly with their passionate protagonists, the three-handers The Bermuda Love Triangle and Lone Bird, which demand we take sides; and of course the tense intimacy of the two-handers, if i could be anything i would be something different, Polly Pocket is Not a Princess andKing of the Mountain. Rather than being a limitation we discover that the short play can be quite a liberating fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of thing where anything and everything can plausibly happen. Of course, that’s an illusion though really, because it takes a great degree of skill to make this kind of elasticity seem effortless, and the majority of the playwrights here have it in spades.

Notable mentions for the night must go to Mary Rachel Brown for her beautifully observed understanding of the entrenched racism in the Australian psyche in Self Service, delivered with charming wit and brave realism byChristine Greenough; to Maxine Mellor for her naughty, inventive and playfully fun Polly Pocket is Not a Princessin which Mairead Berne shines as a evil bitch Barbie who deserves a good roasting. And, to the absolute showstopper of the night, Lone Bird by Verity Laughton, who is clearly quite the master of the craft, blowing us away with her deft and fluid ability to create a psychologically thrilling encounter all with the minimal number of brushstrokes. It’s greatly enhanced too by wonderful performances from Tim Allen as the sinister ferryman Stan andFiona Press as Susan, one of his hapless passengers.

All in all, Brand Spanking New week two is a resounding success both for the industry and audiences alike, and judging by its sell-out opening night you really should be getting on the phone to the New Theatre right now if you want to catch it before the week is out!

New Theatre presents
Brand Spanking New

Week One 30 September – 3 October 2009
Week Two 7 – 10 October 2009

Venue: New Theatre | 542 King Street Newtown NSW
Times: Wednesday – Saturday @ 8pm
Tickets: $22
Bookings: 1300 306 776 | www.mca-tix.com.au
Visit: newtheatre.org.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage October 2009

Next there’s Matt Lauer a super-sharp rip-snorter by Rick Viedewhich focuses on a teenage boy’s obsession with the real-life host of NBC America’s Today Show. It’s a deviously dark piece of cultural comedy that takes aim at society’s sycophantic relationship with celebrity. Actor Julian Lovick is intense, strong and utterly hilarious as the boy, who lives his life according to the values he’s gleaned from his TV idol.

Fit For A King is a kind of oddball comedy from Scottish playwrightPhil Spencer, about three wacky inmates who pass the time by playing a gastronomic game of food guessing. It’s punchy in a Tarantino meets Peter Greenaway in a street fight kind of a way – i.e. the thugs are very clever and chatty, but you’re not sure whether you’re dreaming or awake.

Tamara Asmar’s Queen of The Night is a brilliantly written two-hander about an encounter between an aging prostitute and a stitched-up female ‘John’. What starts out as a ballsy sex comedy with Queenie (Abi Rayment) detailing her “bedroom degustation” menu soon moves into an exploration of relationships which is deep and undeniably real. Rayment is wickedly funny as Queenie, a character who is crying out for a longer format to roam around in.

Last Ride by Ross Mueller is the story of two old codgers who find their night veering wildly off the rails when the try to score drugs for a bird they’ve met in a bar. It’s an interesting premise which seems ripe for some laughs, but when the girl they’ve met seems completely unfazed by the violence that threatens we’re questioning where we are and how the hell we got here.

The most thought-provoking play for the night is Jonathan Ari Lander’s Measure which takes on the story of a suspected Cambodian Khmer Rouge soldier who is forced to face his past. It’s brimming with depth and realism, thanks to an emotionally charged and vulnerable performance by Felino Dolloso as the accused murderer Lohr.

Jonathan Gavin’s The Return rounds out the evening with a rollicking romance which takes it’s inspiration from the journals of Matthew Flinders, who, the play suggests may have been a much better navigator than he was a husband. This laugh-out-loud jaunt sees Flinders (Matt Charleston) returning home to face the music after leaving wife Ann (Natalie Saleeba) home in England for almost ten years while he’s been off gallivanting across the oceans with his cat Trim. Saleeba and Charleston have a ball with this very funny material and bounce off each other with superb comic timing. It’s a wonderful ending to the night that leaves the audience spilling over into the foyer grinning from ear to ear.

Brand Spanking New is simply a great, fun night of theatre that is sure to leave you feeling optimistic and pleasantly surprised about the range of talented playwrights that are out there right now. And on that note, after all the fuss in the press this week that’s seen Neil Armfield dodging bullets over Belvoir’s 2010 “boys club” line-up, it seems worth pointing out that perhaps the answer to the question: Where are all the talented female writers and directors in the Sydney scene, has already been answered – a fair few of them are hiding out at the New!

New Theatre presents
Brand Spanking New

Week One 30 September – 3 October 2009
Week Two 7 – 10 October 2009

Venue: New Theatre | 542 King Street Newtown NSW
Times: Wednesday – Saturday @ 8pm
Tickets: $22
Bookings: 1300 306 776 | www.mca-tix.com.au
Visit: newtheatre.org.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage October 2009

For those unfamiliar with Tennessee Williams play or Elia Kazan’s iconic 1951 film featuring Marlon Brando, the action centres on a troubled thirty-something Mississippi schoolteacher, Blanche DuBois, who comes to New Orleans to visit her younger sister Stella and meet her new husband Stanley. To Blanche’s horror she finds Stellaliving in a dilapidated tenement building with a man she perceives as a rough, brutish “polak” (of Polish descent) well beneath Stella’s station in both manners and prospects. What ensues is a battle of wills between Blanche andStanley as each attempts to stubbornly assert their authority over the other, while Blanche spectacularly unravels in the process. It’s a play that’s brimming with both insightful wit and desperate sadness as Williams expertly straddles the polarities of human experience with the kind of emotional intelligence that’s timeless.

Cate Blanchett glides and flutters as Blanche, Tennessee Williams’ “moth”, and we are drawn to her as if to a flame. When she first appears on stage dressed in the divine white floaty two piece by designer Tess Scofield we instantly perceive both her power and her vulnerability. It’s this paradox of lightness and strength that Blanchettwields so well, and it’s what allows her to make Blanche’s neurotic and gut-wrenching emotional transition as smooth as silk. But she’s also incredibly funny, executing Williams’ clever lines with the skill of a comedian. As far as parts go, this is one of the great roles of the twentieth century, and Blanchett turns in nothing less than a five-star performance, the intensity and focus of which is flawless.

Of course there is another commanding role on offer here in the guise of Stanley, and with Brando’s breakout role seemingly unsurpassable it was with much expectation that I waited to see Joel Edgerton’s take on it. In between rehearsals Edgerton has clearly put in some serious gym time to bulk up for the part, and embodies the requisite beefy and “ape-like” physicality, but the real craft is in the way he moves as Stanley. He’s much more than a clumsy primate, instead he’s a muscular panther who’s ready to pounce. He also seems, dare I say it, more psychologically engaged than Brando, and imbues Stanley with the shrewd skills of a cunning manipulator who knows exactly how and when to apply the pressure.

Together, Edgerton and Blanchett are enthralling. And while Stella (Robin McLeavy) often seems to blend into the background, in a sense that’s her role. She’s not there to steal the spotlight, she’s merely a tool for both of them to bat back and forth in a relentless game of cat and mouse.

The supporting cast are equally skilled. Most notably Tim Richards as the lonesome bachelor Mitch, who finds himself irresistibly falling for the calculated charms of Blanche; and Mandy McElhinney is charming too as the loud-mouthed upstairs neighbour Eunice.

Director Ullmann has channelled the spirit of Williams’ vision with a remarkable sensitivity to the huge range of emotions at play. There are moments of sublime humour, but she also understands the very real and heart-wrenching pain too. And there’s a mix of styles brewed into a delicious concoction of theatricality and refreshing naturalism that gets the balance just right.

Ralph Myers pink, mould-stained set is nicely complimented by Nick Schlieper’s beautifully nuanced lighting, while Alan John’s piano playing give the proceedings the required rag-tag New Orleans feel.

I must say I really did try not to gush, but with a production this good that’s almost impossible as A Streetcar Named Desire is without a doubt the best production that I’ve seen all year, and theatregoers should beg borrow or steal their way into it. Just see it, any way you can!

Sydney Theatre Company presents
A Streetcar Named Desire
by Tennessee Williams

Director Liv Ullmann

Venue: Sydney Theatre
Previews: 1-4 September 8pm
Season: 5 September – 17 October
Duration: 3 hours 15 mins including interval
Bookings: STC Box Office 02 9250 1777 | www.sydneytheatre.com.au

This review first appeared on Australian Stage September 2009

Brent is both fragile and charming as Clair, the agent whose ambition is a by product of her circumstances. She is not, so it would seem, greedy by nature. The same cannot be said for Liz and Mike, who, when they are not conspiring together about how best to extract even more cash from the buyer, keep their baby’s nanny, a young Italian girl named Anna (Kelly Paterniti), a virtual hostage in their fourth windowless bedroom. Becker is suitably austere as the calculating ice queen wife Liz, while Wightman embodies the pathos of the emasculated husbandMike perfectly. There are laughs to be had here, but for some audiences members these characters may be a little too close to the bone! The real cracking guffaws come courtesy of Paterniti, the saucy barely clad nanny whose scenes with Josh McConville (who plays both a tradesman and her part-time Italian lover) are among the most hilarious. Meanwhile Boris Brkic manages to be both warm and sinister as James the mysterious moneyed buyer.

Director Cristabel Sved has orchestrated a tight and polished production technically, where set, sound design and lighting all come together in the service of the actors to heighten their performances. The roped-off stage by William Bobbie Stewart is particularly affecting when combined with Verity Hampson’s lighting which at times makes the action seem reminiscent of a great black-and-white noir flick.

In lieu of saying too much and giving away the ending – I promised no spoilers – let’s just say that Dealing With Clair will leave audiences either marvelling at Crimp’s audacity to deliver a conclusion which is both bold and simplistic or perhaps fuming that they’ve been had by an elaborate parlour trick.

Griffin Theatre presents
Dealing With Clair
by Martin Crimp

Director Cristabel Sved

Venue: SBW Stables Theatre | 10 Nimrod Street, Kings Cross
Previews: 22 & 23 July
Dates: 24 July – 15 August
Times: Mon 7pm, Tues – Sat 7pm, Sat Mat 2pm (last Saturday only).
Tickets: Full: $30.00 Senior: $26.00 Concession, Preview, Matinee: $23.00 Group (8+): $26.00 Under 30: $26.00 (Mon – Thurs only) (Booking fees may apply)
Bookings: 02 8002 4772

This review first appeared on Australian Stage

Also truly sublime is the choice of Sarah Blasko as composer. Her musical accompaniments add a layer of melancholy rapture to the performance which goes to the heart of Hamlet’s grief, anger and loss. Ingeniously,Blasko is incorporated into the production itself as one of the players, which creates a seamless quality to her musical interludes.

Meanwhile, Colin Moody’s Claudius is a revelation. His soliloquies go a long way towards creating an empathetic window into the soul of a character that has so often come across as one dimensional in previous productions.

Barry Otto is simply scrumptious as Polonius, whose playful verbosity succeeds in boring the characters on stage, while he charms the audience off it, which is precisely the way that Shakespeare intended it.

Gertrude (Heather Mitchell) plays a trophy-wife style of queen who seems to be making the most of a bad situation. While Rosencrantz (Tim Richards) and Guildenstern (Matthew Whittet) provide beautifully timed comic relief that really does make the audience laugh out loud at their antics.

If I had to pick the weakest link, I’d say that it’s Ophelia (Laura Brent). Unfortunately, her interactions with and aboutHamlet don’t really make us believe that she is in love with him, which leaves a rather gaping hole in the love-story side of things. And while her mad turn in act IV is suitably kooky it’s too late for us to make the leap.

The set design (Fiona Crombie) is highly functional, yet stirring and poetic. And Nick Schlieper’s lighting design – particularly when Russell Kiefel’s spooky, night-of-the-living-dead ghost glides onto the stage – is highly effective.

If we could give stars for theatre (and this is such a star-studded production that I don’t see why we can’t) I’d be giving it four and a half – and Brendan Cowell really does deserve every single one of them.

Bell Shakespeare presents
Hamlet
By William Shakespeare

Venue: Drama Theatre | Sydney Opera House
Dates: 6 June – 12 July 2008
Bookings: Sydney Opera House Box Office 02 9250 7777

This review first appeared on Australian Stage

Fans of the original flick’s memorable score by Danny Elfman will be enchanted by Terry Davies new arrangements on the familiar themes. And Paul Groothuis’ sound design – when coupled with the poetic flourishes of Edward’s scissor-like hands – create surprising moments of emotional connection for an audience who seemed to hang on the edge of their seats like kids entranced at a school holiday pantomime.

This is a slick, well-executed production, but the first act is by far the strongest. This is largely because the story elements are well thought through here. As we enter the second act it seems that large dancing set pieces take predominance over the narrative, and the romance between Edward (Dominic North) and Kim (Noi Tolmer) seems to come more as an after thought, rather than the unifying principle around which the action takes place. But still, there is plenty for Tim Burton diehards to enjoy, and lovers of contemporary dance will delight in the scope of genres that are incorporated into this fun flight of fancy.

This article first appeared in Australian Stage