The Three Lives of Lucy Cabrol, 25 October 1995 *****

By Theatre de Complicite

At The Playhouse, Melbourne Arts Centre until Nov 4, 1995

Melbourne Arts Festival

Reviewer: Kate Herbert 25 October 1995 for The Melbourne Times

Stars: *****

Lilo Baur as Lucy

By the final spectacular image of The Three Lives of Lucy Cabrol, I was spellbound. The sheer beauty and magnitude of both the visuals and the message left me gasping, open-mouthed.

 

The delicacy and finesse of this production, developed by the multi-lingual Theatre de Complicite, is counterpoised against its rough-as-gutsiness. It is gloriously wild, seamlessly weaving together the twin comic and tragic.

 

The ensemble pulsates with energy, skill and vision. Its delicacy and finesse is counterpoised against a contrary rough-as-gutsiness. It is gloriously wild, seamlessly weaving together those tetchy twins, the comic and the tragic.

 

These actors are clowns and tragedians, employing elaborate and exciting physicality with some profoundly moving self-narrated text.

 

It is a poignant and epic love story. It is Mother Courage or Bertollucci's 1900. It is a fable of the life-death-life cycle. It follows the life, other life and after-life of Lucy Cabrol, a tiny bird-like peasant child-adult. She is cruelly dubbed "The Cocadrille" (witch) and abused by her brothers until they hound her off their family land.

 Lucy is played by Lilo Baur who is ,herself, a miniature human dynamo, an unstoppable spinning top on stage. Even in the darkest moments the whole company sparkles with energy and playfulness, driven by muscle, adrenalin and their arresting vision.

 

The style has the lyrical, mythic quality of a tale told around the village fire by an elder. It reeks of history, passion, commitment and metaphorical imagery. The actors create with only their bodies and odd bits of wood and furniture, every part of the village, the forest, chooks, pigs, cows and even both world wars.

 

The design is deceptively simple and the lighting is dramatic and at times we peer into the light, the half-life to catch a glimpse of the lives of Lucy, the Cocadrille.

 

KATE HERBERT

280wd

Tiger Country by Sarah Cathcart, 21 October, 1995

 At Fairfax Studio, Melbourne Arts Centre, until October 28, 1995

Reviewer: Kate Herbert around 21 Oct, for The Melbourne Times

 

It is magical to watch an actor transform before your eyes and Sarah Cathcart, in her new work Tiger Country, is a veritable chameleon.

 

On stage, Cathcart is mesmerising as she embodies four women from different eras but the same landscape, moving effortlessly between the roles by a shift in her frame, attitude and accent, without a costume. With Andrea Lemon's seamless direction, she has filled the space with an abstract physicality combined with a continual self-narration.

 

Trina Parker's stage design has a glorious cream and dusty azure floor pattern of a sundial backed by a geometric hill. Slides of the landscape are projected on a skewed backdrop totally transforming the space with every step in each character's journey.

 

The design captures the misty heat of the Marilinga, Woomera, Coober Pedy region which is the base of the research for the play. It is matched perfectly by a soundscape which shifts from Doris Day in the 60's to an eerie clicking evoking alien landscapes and capturing the weird isolation of the desert hinterland.

 

Cathcart portrays with wry humour, the rustic, laconic wit of Iris the roadhouse keeper who confides in a Japanese tourist (she dubs him "Martin") that she was taken by aliens. Barb, the city bird dragged out of her urban environment, suffers the rural life. The most poignant character is Louisa, fresh off the boat from England in 1830, facing a decline into poverty in the desert.

 

It is, however, the whimsical philosophical observations of the child, Stella, upon the nature of humanity and the universe which are at the heart of the piece: our displacement and existential uncertainty. As the old aboriginal woman says, "I know why the trees are here. I know why I'm here. I just don't know why you're here."

 

We are all visitors here.

 

By Kate Herbert

280wds

In the Belly of the Whale, 18 Oct 1995

 

Devised by Luke Elliot and Damien Richardson

La Mama until Oct 29, 1995

Reviewer: Kate Herbert for The Melbourne Times around 18 Oct 1995

 

I had to block my ears and hum at any mention of baiting hooks, during In the Belly of the Whale, being childishly phobic about the innocuous earth worm. The rest of the time I was charmed by this neatly crafted, warm and funny piece about fishing, devised by Luke Elliot and Damien Richardson.

 

Fishing is perfect for Buddhists or the somnolent. To fill time while waiting - and waiting for a bite, the two spin fishing yarns garnered from anglers, fishmongers and their personal experience. They brandish fishing facts like swords and engage in home spun philosophy about father/ son relationships and contemplation while attending the rod.

 

This is very smart physical storytelling with a base in well-observed characters and research. There are tall fish tales and the painful irony of the rank amateur (who wouldn't know a trevally from his grandmother) catching every fish within coo-ee.

 

The piece is alive with inspired comic timing and sharp pacing. It is episodic, intercutting scenes with full-frontal fact lists and a final fishy version of "That's Amore" (A moray?). The format becomes a little tired towards the end, but the energy of the performers sustains interest.

 

There are scenes of the warm, the matey and the cosy as well as the unpleasantness of the rain, the cold and that old shark terror. We see the ritual of the baiting, casting, securing rods, settling into fold-up stools, opening beers, or the more cultured anglers savouring wine.

 

When one says suddenly," I love you," the ensuing silence is filled with discomfort and astonishment. Men do stuff together. If these were two women they would be swapping nightmare relationship stories before the first hook was baited.

 

But the very blokiness of this work is its charm.

 

By Kate Herbert

280wds

Ashes , La Mama 11 Oct 1995

 

Written by Ella Filar

At La Mama, Carlton until Oct 29, 1995

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on (or about) 11 Oct 1995 for The Melbourne Times

 

In Ashes, a woman starves and withers away with grief for her murdered lover. She craves comfort, warmth and sex but the angel of suffering offers her only his soul.

 

Ashes takes its form from Berlin cabaret with its dark political and poetic style. The black and blood red of the design and the live jazz ensemble reek of smoky basement clubs in the 30's. Songs by Ella Filar are very Kurt Weill and are sung by an odd non-blend of discordant voices including a soprano and Filar's own rusty Marlene Dietrich strains.

 

This production is at its best when not taking itself too seriously. The writing contains some darkly sensuous language in dialogue, lyrics and narrative although there are moments when it slips into some indulgent old hippy-speak.

 

There were some delightful elements. The song, Angel Love (...How will you find me?) was one. Scenes between the woman-child and her fascist father were well-written realistic dialogue with stylised staging.

 

The performances were patchy, but this very roughness was half the charm of "Ashes". I loved Iris Walshe-Howling's powerful eye contact and Mick Trembeth's representation of father and other characters.

 

This piece seemed to tire and lose its way about twenty minutes from the end.  It would benefit from some ruthless editing and possibly an outside eye to clarify its through-line.

 

Filar writes some memorable lines. "If believers can slaughter, Unbelievers can pray." And, speaking for all women who feel insubstantial in this violent world, Lisa says as she breaks her fast, "I need a big body to get a handle on this hate".

 

KATE HERBERT

280 wds

 

Slingshot by Nikolai Kolyada, 5 Oct 1995

 At Napier Street Theatre, South Melbourne

Wed to Sat 8pm Sun 6pm until October 22, 1995

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on (or about) 5 October 1995 for The Melboune Times

 

The message is simple in Slingshot: people are careless with each other's affections. They fly into other lives like a stone from a slingshot, shattering them like glass. We should be more careful.

 

Directed by expatriate Russian director, Leonid Verzub, Slingshot is an exciting and well-observed contemporary Russian play by Nikolai Kolyada about three crippled lives.

 

Ilya (Greg Ulfan) is a drunken, disabled beggar who is legless in both senses of the word. His new relationship with the young sedate student, Anton (Grisha Dolgopolov) reveals both men's need for love and friendship. The outcome of their confusing sexual encounter is tragic.

 

Kolyada inverts the status of the two men. Ilya discovers his humanity, love and purity, Anton his animality, fear and degradation. Their shared loneliness brings them closer but Anton's paranoia about being "normal" in the eyes of society tears them apart. Love and hate are confused. Sexuality is confusing. Ilya's tattered street wisdom is riddled with paradoxes: "The main thing is not to make them suffer," but "Cruelty must be punished."

 

Ulfan as Ilya has a strong presence and quick, witty delivery. Elly Varrenti, appearing briefly as his slatternly neighbour, provides a vital and dynamic cameo.

 

Although this is Verzub's directorial debut in Australia he has twenty years of experience in Russia. His style is based in Stanislavski's method. which provides some compelling moments and the colloquial translation gives the text a fluid, flexible feel.

 

The naturalism, however, slows the pace, particularly in the opening leaving the quality uneven. The production screams for tightening and could easily lose twenty minutes of pauses and business.

 

Linley Kensit's design effectively captures the decaying Moscow apartment. The lighting by Daniel Zika provides interesting but at times overstated effects.

 

KATE HERBERT

 

Baby, Honey- Thirteen Studies in Exile, REVIEW, 28Sept 1995

 

Baby, Honey- Thirteen Studies in Exile by Deborah Levy

At  La Mama Wed - Sun pm until Sunday October 8, 1995

Reviewer: Kate Herbert (end Sept 1995)

 

Baby, Honey is 45 minutes of quirky, poetic absurdity. Deborah Levy's script is crisp, witty and fractured and is skilfully handled by director, Suzanne Chaundy and a delightfully playful ensemble of five.

 

The piece is subtitled Thirteen Studies in Exile. These cheeky actors tease us, holding up numbers to indicate parts one to thirteen. They taunt us with direct comments, glances and their very proximity at the infamously in-your-face La Mama space.

 

The work scuttles about amongst themes of abandonment, modern romantic love, alienation in relationships and loss and yet the writing remains intense and dense without becoming heavy.

 

Yes, there are characters. The obsessive and intuitive customs officer (Ian Scott) checks passengers' emotional baggage and asks, "Are you my mummy?" The alienated housewife (Victoria Eagger) wants to be like Marilyn Monroe: "Take sleeping pills and die."  Her husband (Carlos Sanchez) is a manic Spanish-speaking monarchist.

 

An inner-urban, groovy couple (Susannah Gregan, Grant Mouldey) ask interminable, esoteric questions, call each other "Honey" and "Baby" and fantasise their partner is someone else.

 

This production is both stylish and stylised.  It is beautifully paced and it's rhythms and mood are accented by a cunning musical selection and the ideas are elaborated in accompanying footage.

 

The twin TV sets read "Arrivals" and "Departures". We may choose either, we may travel from one to the other, but nothing ever stays the same.

 

Deborah Levy is visiting from the UK. She writes fiction and writes and directs her own theatre work, often collaborating with visual artists dancers and composers. There is also a reading of a second piece of hers at La Mama.

KATE HERBERT

Hamlet, REVIEW, 20 Sept 1995 *****

Hamlet by William Shakespeare, by STC and MTC 

At Playhouse Theatre, Melbourne Arts Centre until October, 1995

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on around 20 Sep 1995

Stars: 5

NB: With hindsight from 2021, I know this was an exceptional 1995 production with an extraordinarily talented cast. Cate Blanchett, Geoffrey Rush, Richard Roxburgh, Peter Carroll, and directed by Neil Armfield. This was a treat! KH

 

Nothing shatters the spirit like grief and Shakespeare's Hamlet is saturated with souls grieving for death, abandonment or betrayal. Richard Roxborough's Hamlet is a copybook study of grief: shock, sadness, disconnection from his body and environment, fear, disbelief, self-doubt followed by unbridled rage.

 

Roxborough has earned his Sydney Critic's Award for his idiosyncratic, compelling and prismatic characterisation which glints in the light as he turns it. His prince has a subtlety and dynamic range which resonates, shifting easily from underplayed youthful carping and melancholia, through physical incapacitation to cynicism, physical comedy then full-blown anguish. 

 

How easily we forget the effect of grief on we frail humans. Hamlet loses a father, a lover then a mother. Ophelia her lover then father and Laertes father and sister. Their grief is palpable, almost unbearable to behold. The men turn their aching anguish outward to revenge a wronged loved one. Ophelia turns her pain inward.

 

There is a delicacy and reality in Neil Armfield's finely tuned, rhythmic production which plays the actors like instruments which weep and wail with torrents of emotion. He gives them their heads, never overstating either comedy or pathos. It is an ensemble piece with many of this exceptional cast playing multiple roles.

 

Peter Carroll as the donnish "prating old fool", Polonius, almost steals the first half of the play. Geoffrey Rush commendably underplays Horatio, the loyal, ever-watchful eye of objectivity.

 

 Jacek Koman has a still and regal composure which makes Claudius all the more insidious. Cate Blanchett's mad scene as Ophelia was profoundly distressing yet lyrical. Her pale muddied skin and clothing heightened the fragility of her physical and spiritual self.

 

The whole piece is served perfectly by the soundscape (Paul Charlier) and the design (Dan Potra) with distressed warehouse walls and cold tiling create a chill, grey, discomfiting palace for this greatest of all tragedies. The tiny shrine lights and flowers on the wall remind us constantly of the dead who will be remembered.

 

KATE HERBERT

1995 Reviews by or about Kate Herbert, Herald Sun

1995 Reviews, by or About Kate Herbert, Herald Sun

 SNAKE PIT NEEDS MORE BITE   Herald Sun, 29-08-1995, Ed: 2, Pg: 043, 448 words , ENTERTAINMENT
The Snake Pit Where and when: La Mama, Carlton, until September 3 DECADES before Ariel Dorfman wrote Death and the Maiden, an Australian dramatist was writing her own version of "turn the tables on the torturer" set on the Gold Coast (of all places) ...

    TRIP ON WAY TO CLIMAX   Herald Sun, 29-07-1995, Ed: 2, Pg: 034, 110 words , ENTERTAINMENT
TRIPTYCH is not just a whodunit, it is a "who-did-what?" A woman (Nikki Coghill) brings home a bookshop owner (Sarah Chadwick) to her writer husband (Joseph Spano). The two women met only that day, but the guest seems to know Mr Wrong rather too well...

    CUB SITE PLANS   Herald Sun, 17-07-1995, Ed: 2, Pg: 061, 526 words , ENTERTAINMENT
CUB site plans RMIT University has got the site, it's got the plan and all it needs now is the money. The site is the old CUB headquarters at the top of Swanston St, which it wants to develop into a media centre and student housing. Architectural fir...

Pearl Fishers, Victoria State Opera, 6 August 1995

 

By Georges Bizet

By Victoria State Opera

At State Theatre, Aug 5, 8,10, 12. 14, 17, 18, 26, 1995

Review by Kate Herbert: 6 August for The Melbourne Times

Georges Bizet was 24 when The Pearl Fishers hit the stage in Paris in 1853 and it smacks of the kind of love story a young man would write. It is a melodrama, almost a soap opera reliant on characters and emotions painted in broad strokes. Two men fall for the same goddess-like woman who sings like an angel and walks like a dream in the night. The resulting jealousy tears apart their friendship.

 

This is a co-production for Victoria State Opera with the Australian Opera and was first performed in November 1988 with Deborah Riedel in the role of Leila. Riedel has a full-bodied soprano, smoothly modulated through all registers perhaps a result of her early training as a mezzo.

 

Patrick Power as Leila's lover, Nadir, has a sweet, pastel tenor and their two voices are delightfully matched for duets. Baritone, Lucas de Jong's Zurga was creditable and bass, Gary Rowley, was appropriately wicked as the villainous High Priest, Nourabad.

 

Tony Bartuccio's choreography incorporated an interesting melange of jazz and contemporary dance with eastern images. Their physicality enhances the alluring tableaux which director, Jamie Hayes uses to such great effect to open and close each act. Some of the performance and direction is too melodramatic and "old opera" in style but it is difficult to work against the tone of both the music and libretto.

 

French conductor, Emmanuel Joel and the Victoria State Orchestra were superb. Joel will conduct this production in London later this year. The chorus strengthened after act one where it seemed a little thin. Stage design by Kenneth Rowell was imposing and effective in its grand simplicity. George Kulikovskis' lighting design added a powerful dimension to the stormy, oceanic night scenes.

 

KATE HERBERT 300 wds

Tosca , Victoria State Opera, 1 August 1995

 

 

by Giacomo Puccini

Victoria State Opera, At State Theatre, Arts Centre Melbourne,

 August 1, 4, 9, 17, 21, 26 1995

Reviewed by Kate Herbert on 1 August for The Melbourne Times.

 

Tosca was first performed in 1900 when melodrama was at its height in the theatre. In fact, he took his scenario from Sardou's original stage play with the title role performed by none other than the queen of histrionics, Sarah Bernhardt.

 

It is Puccini's extraordinary score and its combination of delicacy, vigour and tragedy which allows the tale of lovers lost to avoid the schmaltz which is so un-1990's. It reverberates with themes of judgement and danger, love and death.

 

The Victoria State Orchestra is conducted with subtlety by Roderick Brydon. The set design, the lofty grandeur which echoes the ruthlessness of Fascist architecture, serves to underscore the sense of portentousness but, during Act One, the double proscenium allows the orchestra to almost drown the powerful voices of the singers.

 

The direction was, at times, a little unimaginative and seemed to lack the obvious passion and sex intrinsic to Tosca. However, Acts Two and Three were dramatically most successful. The love story between Tosca (Joan Carden) and Caravadossi (Edmund Barham) is finally palpable.

 

Barham's final aria was inspiring. His voice is magnificent and his performance is more flexible and credible in Act Three. Carden's second Act lament as she pines for her lover then offers herself to Scarpia (John Wegner) was inspiring.

 

Which brings me to the star of the production for me. John Wegner, as the villainous, lusty and majestic tyrant, Scarpia, was sinister, sexy and dangerous. We believe him when he quips, "There are so many wines and so many women and I want to sample them all". He combines a superb, rich and vivid baritone with a riveting stage presence. How sad we have lost him to German Opera these days.

 

By KATE HERBERT

Triptych, by Kate Herbert, REview by Chris Boyd July 29, 1995

Edition 2 SAT 29 JUL 1995, Page 034
TRIP ON WAY TO CLIMAX
By BOYD C

TRIPTYCH is not just a whodunit, it is a "who-did-what?"
A woman (Nikki Coghill) brings home a bookshop owner (Sarah Chadwick) to her writer husband (Joseph Spano).
The two women met only that day, but the guest seems to know Mr Wrong rather too well.
Suspicion builds when the bookseller attributes one of the most notorious couplets in English literature to John Dryden instead of Jonathan Swift.
Kate Herbert's plot squirms to a whip-cracking climax, but it falters with brittle characterisation and haphazard dialogue.
Triptych finishes at La Mama tonight.
END OF STORY
Keywords:  REVIEW
Section:  ENTERTAINMENT

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Don Quixote, Victoria State Opera, 25 July 1995

 

 by Jules Massenet

By Victoria State Opera

At State Theatre, Arts Centre Melbourne, July 25, August 3, 7, 11, 1995

Reviewed by Kate Herbert on 3 Aug 1995 for The Melbourne Times

 

Jules Massenet's " heroic comedy" (c.1910) has not been performed here before. The Victoria State Opera production directed by Ian Judge incorporates staging as sparse as the beard of our windmill-tilting hero and a strangely spare re-telling of the Cervantes tale of this idealistic "champion of virtue" and his unrequited love.

 

 Richard Van Allen with his fine, warm baritone, is impressive as the tragic, lovelorn knight, a relic of the Age of Chivalry.  Mezzo, Suzanne Johnston, is both sexy and dulcet as Dulcinea, the seductive queen who taunts Quixote then sends him on a quest to retrieve her necklace from bandits.

Roger Howell was enchanting as Sancho Panza. It is a role which requires a voice equal to that of Quixote but demands a vivid physical and comic presence, all of which Howell manifests with verve and magnetism.

 

Richard Divall, as ever, conducts the orchestra skilfully, but the score itself seems a little thin and lacking in drama which probably explains its rare productions. Some of the libretto is pretty and poetic but overall the story hurries to its conclusion without really penetrating the drama of the knight's journey.

 

There was some good chorus work and charming pseudo-Spanish choreography (Lindsay Dolan) but the dance seemed not to be integrated into the whole piece.

 

I commend the VSO for presenting us with a totally new opera for our stages.

 

KATE HERBERT

240wd

Beauty and the Beast, Princess Theatre, Melbourne, July 2, 1995

 

 Music by Alan Menken, Lyrics by Howard Ashman and Tim Rice, Book by Linda Woolverton.

produced by Jacobsen/Edgley

At Princess Theatre, Melbourne opened July 11, 1995

Reviewed by Kate Herbert on July 2, 1995

 

Spinning plates are usually circus fare but Beauty and the Beast has a spectacular dinner scene with twirling human crockery, dancing cutlery and exploding giant champagne bottles. The scene, Be My Guest, is pure Ziegfeld Follies.

 

Now, I'm pretty attached to Jean Cocteau's 30's film version with its subtle black and white images but this Disney production, re-directed by Richard Wherrett, is a knock-out visual treat. Costumes are superbly quirky, (Ann Hould-Ward) the design (Stan Meyer) is classic fairy-tale with spooky forest and enchanted castle. The choreography (Matt West) is classy, and the lighting (Natasha Katz) is transformational. The castle seems to float on air.

 

Features are the pyrotechnics and the astonishing levitation as Beast transforms into Prince. The set has everything that opens and shuts, including actors who play a singing dressing table, (Gloden Mercer) a teapot (Robin Arthur) a walkin' talkin' clock, (Bert Newton) and a glittering performance by Grant Smith as Lumiere, a foppish candelabra.

 

Rachael Beck as Belle (the Beauty) has a fine musical voice and a warm presence. Michael Cormick as the Beast balanced perfectly the roughness with the evolving humanity and joyfulness of the Beast. Cormick is a rising star with the voice, face and presence of the Prince he plays.

 

The score is not a classic, but it has a couple of memorable songs, namely the title tune and Human Again during which all the servants, who are turning into furniture, pine for their humanity.

 

The lyrics by Tim Rice and Howard Ashman are both romantic and witty. Gaston (Hugh Jackman) the conceited village He-Man has some gems such as, "We'll make a perfect pair/ Just like my thighs", and the Beast's solo love song, If I Can't Love Her, is genuinely moving.

 

Get a look at this if you like a light musical or your kids loved the movie. It's a great family show.

 

KATE HERBERT

 

Lilies by Michel Marc Bouchard, 9 June 1995

By Hoy Polloy

At North Melbourne Town Hall, Tues - Sat until July 1995

Reviewed by Kate Herbert for The Melbourne Times on June 9, 1995

 

Lilies by Michel Marc Bouchard is an interesting play that moves between Canada of 1912 and 1952. In '52, Simon Doucet confronts Bishop Bilodeau with his dirty secrets from their youth. The 1912 narrative deals with Doucet's youthful, illicit romance with the young French Count Vallier, or "Lilywhite" as Bilodeau dubs him. The story of secret love and suppressed sexuality is tragic and romantic.

 

The text has potential, and director Wayne Pearn has found most success in the more intimate scenes between Doucet and Vallier or Vallier and his mad mother.  Larger scenes are often too static. Justin Fowler's performance as Vallier shows great potential. Much of the acting was uninspiring, unfortunately.

 

In the manner of Genet, all roles are played by male actors. This treads a thin line between avant-garde and drag.  There are moments when the campery works and others where it tends toward histrionics.  It seems to thin the emotional layering of potentially moving scenes in which the surface of passion and madness is only skimmed.

 

KATE HERBERT

 

Pericles, Bell Shakespear, 4 June 1995

by William Shakespeare

By Bell Shakespeare Company

At Athenaeum Theatre 1, Melbourne, until June 10, 1995

Reviewed by kate Herbert around 4 June, 1995, for The Melbourne Times

 

Pericles was one of the 17th centuries most popular plays, but it fell out of favour later. John Bell captures its entertainment potential and bawdiness in this rollicking production which has a coherent vision and tight physical direction.

 

The story tumbles on like waves echoing the inclement sea, and Neptune's fury which propels the series of events.  It concentrates on narrative not character. Theories that Shakespeares wrote Act One at an early age or that he didn't write it at all, could explain the flaws in the text: too-obvious dialogue and lack of subtlety in the verse in the early scenes.

 

It feels like the precursor to The Tempest with the silliness of Twelfth Night, too. It is really entertaining and quite light until the emotional reunion scene.

 

Whatever the reason, the text remains a bit flabby. It is not quite a history, nor a tragedy happy ending) nor a comedy (too much pain). It is, rather, a romantic saga, a quest, a hero's journey as Pericles escapes evil, seeks mentors, searches for spiritual fulfilment and love which is very popular in cinema these days (Star Wars, Raiders,). Tragedy is a good man facing disaster at the hands of the gods.

 

Bell takes advantage of the comic potential in the text, making it accessible and funny in the most unexpected places. The tacky, "Persian" brothel utilises very funny caricatures. There is great generosity in the ensemble work and performances are generally very strong, particularly from Vic Rooney (Narrator), Duncan Wass (Helicanos) and Lucy Bell as Pericles daughter, Marina.

 

Jeremy Sims is magnetic, passionate and unpredictable as Pericles. As the young man, he is light and joyful, but he is potent as the grieving, near-catatonic older king, bearing the weight of a life gone awry. His reunion with his lost daughter is a delicate and moving scene with great control and no melodrama.

 

The most telling moment was the satisfied audience's sigh of approval as the Narrator says, "Here our play has ending."

 

KATE HERBERT

=

Oh My God I'm Black! June 4 1995

 

by Mary-Anne Sam

By Melbourne Workers' Theatre

At Budinski's Wed-Sat 8pm until June 10, 1995

Reviewed by Kate Herbert around June 4, 1995 for The Melbourne Times

 

We eavesdrop happily on other people's lives because others' loves are interesting and we are, by nature, sticky-beaks. Oh My God I'm Black! is a biographical narration with songs performed by Mary-Anne Sam and her life has been a doozy. I mean, tough!

 

Sam is one of two children of a Torres Strait Island woman and a white Melbourne lad who nicked off early in Sam's life and was eventually discovered to have three families. Sam gives us snatches of her life from early childhood, the death of her mother, homelessness, life and death with her white Nana, school, love, the Aboriginal network. And the moment when she recognises in the mirror "Oh my God, I'm black!"

 

Her love of singing is her major link with her dead mother and songs, mostly American or Carribean-influenced, pepper her personal story. The story is interesting but the script screams for a tough dramaturgical hand. It flits from moment to moment without any focus or dramatic content.

 

Theatre needs a dramatic structure to give dynamic energy to a life. The issues of belonging, acceptance, family and colour are complex and a clearer focus on specific moments might have served this piece better.

 

A solo show is a tough call demanding of the performer a strong stage presence and theatrical range. This piece was more effective when it physicalised scenes and attempted to bring secondary characters to life.

 

 Otherwise it remained too static with Sam attached to the microphone. It swerves too close to melodrama and indulgence with too obvious songs selected for their relevance.

 

 

 

Twelfth Night, Bell Shakespeare, 4 June 1995

 

 by William Shakespeare.

By Bell Shakespeare Company

At Athenaeum Theatre until May 27, 1995

Reviewed by Kate Herbert around 4 June 1995 for The Melbourne Times

 

In addition to wanton revelries, melancholy is undoubtedly a component of Twelfth Night It dominates David Fenton's production for Bell Shakespeare. The dark brooding of the grief-stricken Olivia (Jennifer Kent) spills over in large splashes into Feste, the jester (Darren Gilshenan) whose "Hey Ho, the wind and the rain" and final song are profoundly bleak.

 

There is little of the usual revelry of Twelfth Night carnival celebrations. Even Andrew Aguecheek (Sean O'Shea) and Sir Toby Belch (Vic Rooney) are somewhat restrained in their witty repartee and Belch almost victimises his compadre in drunkenness. O'Shea plays an hilariously goofy Sir Andrew and the two gambol about playfully but there is an over-weaning sadness in them which is moving but not wholly successful.

 

Darren Gilshenan as Feste is an intense, intelligent, taunting fool who watches the whole debacle with a modern cynical eye. With his red lame' vest and languidly sexy style, he is a Johnny Lonely cabaret singer with a bitter wisdom.

 

John Bell plays the smug, dull civil-servant-ish Malvolio in an inspired piece of campery. His performance is, as ever, the most complete and satisfying. Lucy Bell is vivacious and energetic as Viola and as her twin, Jeremy Sims was a terrific cameo.

 

The backdrop of an outsize face of Botticelli's Venus is an interesting representation of love and idealism. The second darker version symbolises the degradation of romanticism but is somehow more intrusive than effective.

 

There is some problem with the coherence of the whole of the production. There being no overall vision or concept.  The modernisation is fine but it lacks clarity or overview. The characters work as individuals and particular performances work as cameos but they seem to all be in isolation.  It is valiant effort to alter the dynamic of a usually light play, but unfortunately there is little sense of ensemble work.

 

KATE HERBERT

 

305 wd

Dead White Males by David Williamson, MTC/STC, 4 June 1995

 

Dead White Males by David Williamson

By MTC / STC

At Playhouse, Melbourne Arts Centre until July 8, 1995

Reviewed by Kate Herbert round June 4, 1995 for The Melbourne Times

 

David Williamson's brand of social satire sits adjacent to Frontline and Fast Forward. Dead White Males is a marriage of literary theory and sketch comedy.

 

From the outset Williamson is determined to prove his particular premise that humans do not need ideologies to live.  This is obvious because all the visible ideologues are complete dickheads, albeit very funny dickheads.

 

The literary theory professor, played with uncannily accurate smarmery by John Howard, is a post-structuralist, feminist, multiculturalist philanderer who despises the strictures of Liberal Humanism. This smug hippie manipulates his students, demanding tacitly that they toe his particular "ism" line and seducing them if they successfully mirror him: absolute narcissism.

 

The malleable undergraduate mind of Angela (the dynamic Michelle Doake) undergoes a great transformation as she realises that people's lives are more fluid and less doctrinaire than theory.

 

Wayne Harrison's direction is crisp and intelligent. The production gallops along and is really very funny if you can tolerate your sacred cows being dashed to the ground.

 

Now everybody gets an hilarious, metaphorical bashing in this play but radical feminists fair worst. Most characters remain fairly two-dimensional with the only truly sympathetic character being Angela's warm, slightly badgered, almost "reconstructed male" dad, played by an adorable Henry Szeps.

 

The women are unremittingly oppressive, shallow harridans. Even pithy, racist Grandpa (the exceptional Simon Chilvers) gets a soft and squishy scene. And Shakespeare, the most prominent "dead white male" writer in the western world, is played as a charming fellow, well-met by Patrick Dickson.

 

There is a sort of glib arrogance about everybody. The rather didactic argument about male/female differences is divvied up between characters but there seems to be a single narrative voice. The often-academic language may alienate some people but there are enough gags and wacky characters to satisfy everybody.

 

KATE HERBERT

300wd

An Inspector Calls by J B Priestley, April-May 1995

 At The Comedy Theatre 

Tues- Sat 8pm Until May 20, 1995

Reviewer: Kate Herbert for The Melbourne Times. Reviewed late April 1995

 

The most extraordinary thing about J B Priestley's An Inspector Calls is director Stephen Daldry's inspired staging. An elevated doll's house, home of the nasty, superior Birling family, teeters on stilts above a blasted war-time London streetscape.

 

 In the first scene our view is restricted. We peer through windows just as do the working class on the street.  Even the staircase is disconnected from the outside world. The building and the family appear inaccessible, impenetrable and invincible from their privileged upper- class position.

 

Not so. An inspector arrives to bring them to task about the suicide of a working-class girl they have all known in some capacity. He blows their world and their house wide open to his piercing eye and the torrential rain which pours onto the stage.

 

The script written in 1946 and set in 1912, is a humanist / socialist commentary on the invidious class system of Edwardian Britain and it remains pertinent today. Daldry's production for the National Theatre has revamped it for the London, New York, Tokyo and Australian stage.

 

There are moments of Brechtian political diatribe such as Inspector Goole's departing speech and director Stephen Daldry has accentuated the alienation through stark lighting effects, addressing the audience directly and by adding roving, inquisitive children and a silent majority of adult observers.

 

The maid, (Georgina Beer) who is unheard and invisible for most of the script, remains on stage constantly, tipping rubbish, carrying chairs, even rolling out a red carpet for the terrifying matriarch, Mrs. Birling, (Helen Lindsay) all as a reminder of the class distinction.

 

Barry Foster as the Inspector / Confessor gives an impeccable performance, both passionate and vigorous. The other performances are all exceptional as the characters face their judgement day in a crumbling world under a drenched sky.

 

Buy Kate Herbert

Nil, Cat and Buried, Stephen Sewell, 28 April 1995

 

Nil, Cat and Buried by Stephen Sewell

At La Mama at Courthouse until May 13, 1995

Reviewed by Kate Herbert around 28 April 1995 for The Melbourne Times

 

There are two stars in Nil, Cat and Buried by Stephen Sewell: David Pledger's crisp, vigorous direction is the first and he is evidently also responsible for suggesting to Stephen Sewell that he combine three short pieces into this one script.

 

Pledger has developed a powerful kinetic style which relies heavily on the ensemble. As in his Taking of Tiger Mountain, he has created an economical and often witty physical language of repeated gesture and movement which is concentrated in the three-person chorus. (Danielle Long, Paul Bongiovanni, Greg Ulfan) who comment, quip, mimic and abuse.

 

They make broad, simple statements which translate as a chorus of breakdown underlying the fraught and often violent communication of a man and woman (Leon Teague, Tamara Saulwick) dealing with being stranded in an isolated house together as their relationship collapses.

 

Shane Feeny-Connor is the second star. His intense and strange persona as Cat is riveting. His presence draws the eye and his words shock, lull and reverberate in the unadorned Courthouse space. Sewell's words in his hands are like poison darts, his imagery of "the unnameable horror" of which we are all capable, is relentless.  His extraordinarily powerful role as Mal Hennessy in Janus was no fluke.

 

The whole piece leaves one shell-shocked. I was less concerned with the content and the actual words, which are pungent but not particularly new, than with the mode of delivery. The actors confront and challenge us directly. Feeny-Connor climbs onto the scaffold seating and gets right in your face. It is a very fine exercise in style executed with great finesse by Pledger and his cast.

 By Kate Herbert