Kate Herbert is theatre reviewer, Herald Sun, Melbourne & formerly for Melbourne Times. Kate is a director; produced playwright (21 plays). Scripts pub. Currency Press. She worked as actor, comedian, improviser & teacher of Acting, Improvisation & Playwriting. Kate was Head of Drama/Teacher, NMIT; Coordinator of Prof. Writing/ Editing, Swinburne Uni. Read her reviews here or: www.heraldsun.com.au/entertainment/arts. NB Explorer Browser doesn't always work on blog.
Monday, 5 April 1999
Barry Humphries Remember You're Out, April 5 1999
At The Princess Theatre April 5 1999 for a
Barry Humphries has
been away for a long time but he has certainly done his homework. Remember
You're Out is topical, accurate and as acerbic as one would expect from the
lips of the acid-tongued Melbourne boy who made good in the Queen's own land.
It is an extraordinary feat to be on stage for almost three
hours, alone apart from his accompanist, Andrew Ross, and the odd audience
member who is dragged up to be dressed up and ridiculed.
You know Les Patterson, Sandy Stone and Edna Everage from
the screen but it is mind-boggling to experience Humphries' alteregos live.
Before our little respite (interval) we hear snatches of
Humphries history: a childhood song in a sailor suit and the very first Edna
sketch performed in 1955 with Noel Ferrier as the straight man. Edna was just
as self-centred in this truly suburban incarnation as she offers her sleep-out
to the 1956 Olympic athletes. She harps on about axminster, laminex, Blue Hills
and her son, Kenny.
Gallipoli veteran, Sandy Stone, RIP, appearing these days as
a ghost, provides a prolonged poignant interlude in the hilarity. The monologue
incorporates astute social commentary with Sandy's naive old world
observations. His reminiscences about his Glen Iris home, now the site of a
supermarket, 'neo-Georgian Tuscan townhouses", the local cinema now a
Blockbuster video store and his wife Beryl's capacity to survive bereavement
unscarred, are sublimely tragi-comic.
The first half closes with a surprise appearance of Les
Patterson, determined to clear his name of Sydney Olympic graft. He is
grotesque, obscene, lecherous, offensive, sexist and an embarrassment to the
Australian image - but we laugh till it hurts. Don't ask me to explain why.
The second half is a phenomenal 80 minutes of mostly
ad-libbing by Edna who is no longer a Dame. She wants to be one of the ordinary
people. " I'm no different from you. Except I'm rich and famous and you're
Edna is rude and patronising to everybody 'in the nicest
possible way." She taunts the front rows, lowering their already buried
self-esteem. While phone-ordering take away meals for a couple even Edna was
disarmed by the phone waitress's response to "This is Edna Everage."
"Who?", the waitress squeaked.
There are gladdies, silly songs with witty rhymes, frocks, wigs,
grimaces and sneers. Edna is a perfect blend of glee and malice. The show's a