Scarlett O’Hara At The Crimson Parrot, June 11, 2008 ***

Scarlett O’Hara At The Crimson Parrot 

By David Williamson, MTC

Playhouse, June 11 to July 12, 2008

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on June 11, 2008

Stars: 3

Caroline O’Connor is a funny, impish poppet, with the perfect clown face. 

In David Williamson’s new play, Scarlett O’Hara At The Crimson Parrot, directed by Simon Phillips, she delivers a verbal gag or a prat fall with as much skill as she sings and dances her socks off in her usual milieu, the stage musical.

Williamson wrote this play for O’Connor and her obvious enjoyment is infectious. She plays the scatty, accident-prone waitress, Scarlett, who has the dubious privilege of bearing the surname O’Hara.

Scarlett is sweet-natured daydreamer, a hopeless romantic. At 36 she is single, in a dead end job, infatuated with her boss (Andrew McFarlane) and bullied by her mother (Monica Maughan). She avoids her dull life by escaping into old movies and imagining herself as Vivien Leigh but is blind to the potential, albeit weird, leading man right under her nose (Matt Day).

Light humour is popular – and this script is lighter than flummery (Anyone remember flummery?). It combines physical comedy with an armoury of puns and gags and adds uncannily accurate recreations of famous romantic movie scenes featuring O’Connor as Vivien Leigh, Doris Day or Ingrid Bergman. There are plenty of laughs and dozens of movie references for the aficionado.

 Most of the characters, however, are cardboard cutouts. There is no depth to them or the story – although girl does get boy in the end, in the “totally predictable second act”. It is difficult to have any sympathy for anyone but Scarlett.

O’Connor plays Scarlett as a slightly demented but lovable ninny. She is initially so restrained she is unrecognisable but her energy is released when she falls on her face, trips over her couch drunkenly, passionately embraces a table cloth or carefully pours a glass of wine to the brim.

Maughan has impeccable comic delivery as Scarlett’s self-centred, critical mum. Bob Hornery fires some comic gems as Gordon, the ageing queen and Simon Wood has a field day as rude and randy sous-chef, Gary.

Matt Day is more comfortable as the socially inept Alan when he finally bursts his boundaries to pursue Scarlett. His 1940s movie proposal is a study in movie star glamour. McFarlane is in the unenviable position of having to cook real food in an on stage commercial kitchen and he makes a very credible screen idol – or idols. Marney McQueen captures everything we loath in a smug waitress.

This Williamson is a laugh – but will you remember it in the morning?

By Kate Herbert