Wednesday, 14 May 1997

The Last Gasp, 'Dance Noir', May 14, 1997

The Last Gasp
At  Napier Street Theatre until May 17, 1997
Reviewed by Kate Herbert around 13 May, 1997

The beams of light stream through holes in a galvo roof or dirty windowpanes. The warehouse is piled with packing palettes. The atmosphere is thick with fog and umpteen cigarettes. Ironically, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes filters downstairs from Leon's club, The Magnolia Room.

This is not San Francisco but 1930's Port Melbourne docklands, not Sam Spade but slightly scruffy nice-guy P.I., Eddie Cleary (Darryl Pellizer).  Neville Bryan (Joseph Spano) has "something dodgy going on" in the property development line on the docklands. The Premier (Andrew Gray) is in on it too. Sound familiar?

The Last Gasp is billed as "Dance Noir" and draws heavily on film noir, Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett detective novels. The design, created by the production team and Ben Cobham's seamy evocative lighting, set the scene for the genre. Nancy Black's text is appropriately witty and laconic, utilises the genre extremely well and shifts location to Melbourne without too many hiccups.

Director Anne Thompson has used movement and choreography to abstract moments and to heighten tension, both sexual and dramatic. Couples linger, tilt, loll and seduce with lyrical shifts of weight. The piece really takes off at the first real sniff of sex between the vamp, Lily (Rinske Ginsberg) and Neville, the dodgy bastard.

It paces up considerably in the second half-hour after recovering from some shaky opening night technical hitches with voice-overs and musical cues.

There are a couple of very funny moments and characters. Joe Spano's club manager Leo the "dago shark" is a pure comic combo of Peter Lorre and Manuel from Fawlty Towers and he plays with relish cowardly business-bastard, Neville who is bored with his dowdy wife (Shona Innes).

 Darryl Pellizzer is lovable and true to the genre as the rough Aussie bloke detective who has a heart of gold and a mean two-step.

Unfortunately, despite its entertainment and nostalgic value, the piece lacks a coherent vision, never quite declaring its style. The balance between drama, melodrama and dance is unclear. There are flat spots during scene links, chunks which might benefit from more choreography and some overwhelming audibility and acting problems from a couple of actors. 

The Last Gasp may not quite do justice to the genre but the audience certainly adored its references and hooted for the whole hour.

KATE HERBERT  

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