Elizabeth: Almost by chance a woman ***

Elizabeth: Almost by chance a woman 

Adapted from Dario Fo by Luke Devenish & Louise Fox, Malthouse Theatre

Merlin Theatre, Malthouse, April 8 to 24, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

Italian satirist, Dario Fo, would be delighted with Julie Forsyth’s portrayal of Queen Elizabeth I in this adaptation of his play, Elizabeth: Almost By Chance a Woman. Forsyth’s idiosyncratic comic style, clown face and husky, childlike voice always please and surprise audiences.

Fo is an exceptional, eccentric, comic performer and playwright who skilfully blends scathing political satire, Commedia dell’Arte and literary, cultural and linguistic allusions.

Forsyth revels in the grotesqueness of Elizabeth in her final years. She is old, ugly, tattered, incontinent, foul-mouthed and confused, tottering in corsets and gaudy gowns, avoiding her ravaged image.

Fo portrays Elizabeth as an addled, vain, childish despot, ignorant of the political state of her realm, pining for her lover, the Earl of Essex, unwilling to believe that he plots against her, and obsessing that Shakespeare satirises her in his plays.

Michael Kantor’s production diverges from Fo’s script, which relies significantly on Fo’s own improvisational style, quirky gibberish (known as “gramelot”) and huge personality. Fo, in the original Italian and its better translations, is complex, intellectually challenging and farcical. He adds scatological language, cunningly wrought social commentary, convoluted lingo, current political and artistic references and Shakespeare quotes.

Kantor uses an adaptation (Luke Devenish, Louise Fox) that loses much of Fo’s magic and feels more vulgar than clever. The role played originally by Fo, Donna Grozetta, sees Bille Brown in panto dame costume as the overbearing, offensive, gibberish-speaking cosmetician employed to fix Elizabeth’s ugly visage. Some of his/her absurd babble is funny and clever, using rhymes, spoonerisms, slang, coarse language and mangled quotations. She dubs Essex the Earl of ”Yes Sex” and the audience “mockwits”.

The production lacks the physicality of European clown and the controlled, insane absurdity of a Fo production. Chris Ryan, as Elizabeth’s Fool, is most effective when singing, but his clown lacks comic physicality. Nikki Shiels misses the potential comedy of the maidservant, while David Woods plays Egerton, the palace conspirator, with comical restraint, having fun with his interminable political monologue.

The introduction of Shakespeare (Brown) is confusing and ineffective. The play might be better served leaving him as an off stage character and relying on quoting his royal characters that so enrage Elizabeth.

Mark Jones’ music is a welcome addition. Anna Cordingley’s design and costumes are inspiring and Paul Jackson’s lighting creates a magical world. However the production seems overblown and lacks cohesion despite Forsyth’s wonderfully mad performance.

By Kate Herbert

Cosi by Louis Nowra, HIT ***

Cosi 

By Louis Nowra, HIT Productions

Touring country Victoria until May 3, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

Cosi is clearly on the VCE syllabus this year because the audience was packed with groups of 17 year olds –and they enjoyed this production of Louis Nowra’s play immensely. Teachers love it too because it is riddled with themes that include Vietnam War, love and infidelity, drugs, mental illness power and difference.

The play was first staged in 1992 but is set in 1971 in Melbourne in the period of the Vietnam Moratorium. Nowra’s comedy is broad in this play and director Denis Moore take advantage of the slapstick and big, bold characterisations.

The story is based on an experience of Nowra’s own as a graduate. The lead character, Lewis (Michael Wahr), in a fit of his own madness, volunteers to direct a show with a group of mentally ill patients in an institution.

To make things madder, one particularly bolshie patient, Roy (Don Bridges), bullies the malleable Lewis into staging Cosi Fan Tutte, a Mozart opera sung in Italian. Of course his cast can’t sing, act or speak Italian,  – and not one has stable behaviour.

Of course, the comedy and the pathos arise out of the six actors various obsessions, disorders and compulsions that include nymphomania, pyromania, Compulsive-Obsessive Disorder, heroin addiction and others. 

Outside the institution, the real world carries on with protests about Vietnam, Free Love and political activism being the focus of Lewis’s girlfriend and best mate’s lives. Lewis realises that providing a positive experience for his cast is more important than global politics and war.

Jim Daly straddles that fine line of pathos and hilarity with his portrayal of Henry, the near-catatonic war obsessive. He breaks our hearts with his stammering speech about his father and the war. Wahr is suitably vulnerable and indecisive as Lewis. Bridges plays his antagonist, Roy, with manic energy and bravado. As the food-obsessed erotomaniac Cherry, Bessie Holland is hilariously domineering, loud and sassy and elicited roars of laughter from the audience.

Caroline Lee is compellingly accurate as the compulsive Ruth who counts her steps on stage and learns everybody’s role. Katie-Jean Harding captures an air of fragility in Julie the addict. Jacob Allan is bold and riotous as the rough-nut pyromaniac, Doug. Adrian Auld plays multiple roles but is best as the doped up musician, Zac.

Cosi is a funny, messy play that raises issues suitable for VCE study and makes us laugh a lot and weep a little.

By Kate Herbert

Little Mercy ***

Little Mercy 

By Ash Flanders and Declan Greene, by Sisters Grimm

Where and When: Collingwood Underground Arts Park  March 17 to 27, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

Deep in the bowels of an underground car park in Collingwood is the venue for Little Mercy, Sisters Grimm’s parody of a trashy, cult, horror movie. Think of Rosemary’s Baby, The Omen and The Exorcist; then picture Mercy, (Susie Dee), a smiling, demonic, adult-sized child in a pretty, white dress and hair ribbons. Now be afraid.

The first half of this tribute to evil children is laugh-out-loud funny. Ash Flanders, co-writer, is outstanding as Virginia Summers, the delicate, almost-recovering alcoholic, New England housewife who longs for a child of her own. Her husband, Roger (Sean James Murphy), is a musical theatre director. (Now, that could be a horror show in itself.).

The Summers live a life of quiet comfort and luxury until – surprise, surprise! – little, 8-year old Mercy arrives, unannounced, on their doorstep, saying that she is their long-awaited, adoptive daughter from a suspiciously obscure orphanage.

Of course, Mercy is the child of Satan – literally – and Virginia’s life goes to hell in a hand basket very rapidly. Her precious kitty is killed, Mercy’s teacher (Cara Mitchell) is blinded, and there are stories about a mysterious fire that killed all the teachers at Mercy’s previous school.

The script, written by Flanders with director, Declan Greene, is riddled with satirical allusions to all the visual and verbal signatures of horror flicks and 1940s movies, their characters, plots, dialogue, and even their musical scores.

Flanders plays Virginia with an absolute commitment to truthfulness, playing it straight – if that is possible when wearing a red, velvet gown. Murphy captures the smug superiority of a 40s romantic lead, with his resonant voice and relentless smirk, while Dee revels in the grinning wickedness and sly asides of Mercy.

Mitchell works hard as the stitched up school ma’am but seems miscast in the role. One can’t help imagining it played by a huge drag queen or, well, Bette Davis. Her sexy nun was very funny though.

Little Mercy is a madly entertaining ride, although it needs some editing in the second half – and perhaps some exit doors and safety features.

By Kate Herbert

Cats ***1/2

Cats

Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber, Lyrics based on T.S. Eliot, Old Possums Book of Practical Cats, produced by Lunchbox, David Atkins and Really Useful Group.

Where and When: Regent Theatre, until March 28

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars: ***1/2

While the appeal of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical, Cats, is unquestioned, we can ask how its flaws manage to outweigh its successes. 

The feline choreography is spectacular, the junkyard design, costumes and make-up are impressive, a couple of songs – especially Memory – are outstanding, the diverse characters echo the human world, and the lyrics and narrative are based around T.S. Eliot’s poems for children from Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, 1939.

On the other side of the balance sheet there are irritations: the poetic meter doesn’t scan well with the music, most of which is predictable, the narrative is flimsy, the villain, Macavity, is much anticipated but hardly seen, and Growltiger’s Last Stand is too long.

Ultimately, the flaws don’t affect its success. If you’ve been living underground for 30 years without musical theatre news, Cats opened to acclaim in 1981 in London, won endless awards and still runs worldwide. Who can argue with that?

The vivacity and relentless energy of this youthful chorus are highlights. Like their animal counterparts, these felines are alert, constantly moving. Gillian Lynne’s choreography successfully blends classical ballet with sassy jazz moves. The original direction by Trevor Nunn, creates vivid, recognisable catty characters that leap from the stage and Eliot’s page.

Eliot’s poems are strung like a washing line, one kitty character following another, linked by a fine narrative thread. We witness the Jellicle Cats in a rubbish yard celebrating their annual Jellicle Ball, a boisterous, outstanding choreographic feast after which the sage, Old Deuteronomy (John Ellis), announces which lucky cat will be awarded a tenth life. The tattered and outcast Grizabella, played with a warm voice and sensitivity by Delia Hannah, gives the production its heart. Memory remains the only song that lingers in our memories.

Memorable cats include the titillating Rum Tum Tugger, played with Frank’n’furter seductiveness by John O’Hara. Adrian Ricks’ balletic pirouetting as Mr. Mistoffelees is staggering and Laura McCulloch is charming as ginger cat, Jennyanydots. Michael-John Hurney’s big voice provides several characters.

We may not have the in-the-round staging of the original show, but these sensual kitties romp through the Regent, prowling between seats, mewing and purring and tickling audience members. We still get some of the sensurround of that original London production.

By Kate Herbert

Hazel Curtis: Fear Doctor***

Hazel Curtis: Fear Doctor

by Petra Kalive and Melissa Bubnic

Where and When: Mark St. Hall, Nth Fitzroy until March 14

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

Hazel Curtis (Petra Kalive) strikes terror into the hearts of every audience member – and that’s scary when she’s a “fear doctor”. Hazel is a super parody of one of those appallingly over-confident, 70s, self-help gurus who invite you to a seminar, behave as if they are changing your life and making it more fulfilling, when they are really only filling their own pockets.

Hazel is built like a puffy sofa and wears leopard print leggings and sparkly tops that cling a little too closely to her voluminous curves. She grins like a Cheshire cat and is relentlessly cheerful – until somebody crosses her or touches her inner, wounded self. She is outrageous and funny, but she’s scary too. Her seminar on overcoming your fears is too close to the truth about those smarmy facilitators who preach change.

No one is safe in this audience. Hazel talks directly to each and every one of us. She assails us, regales us with her stories, wheedles secrets out of us, drags reluctant participants up on stage to force them to perform her three H’s, “Hear your fear; help your fear; hiss your fear.” She is the consummate bully who ridicules people into believing they need her help and pursues them until they take out a restraining order.

We chant along with her idiotic sayings, “The rage inside you burns”, or, as she calls it, RIYB. Her sidekick and technician, Jimmy, handles the cheesy muzac and the excruciatingly simplistic PowerPoint diagrams and photos. “See a door, open it and walk through,” she urges us. “Unlock the back door to your happiness.” Do you recognise the shiny glint of a fake?

But under the surface of this narcissistic, social-working nazi, is a tragic, lonely heart who masks her own pain with superficial chanting and catchphrases. Hazel struggles with some bad news that almost derails her entire seminar. What could be just a clever and funny caricature ,straddles the boundary between humour and poignancy, truth and parody.

Hazel’s bull-headedness is counterpointed by Jimmy’s inadequacy and simple, unrequited love. She demeans him and he bounces back like a puppy. Jason Geary directs the show with a lively hand, ensuring that the jokes and the confrontations keep coming.

By Kate Herbert

Madagascar by J.T.Rogers

Madagascar by J.T.Rogers

Melbourne Theatre Company

Where and When: Fairfax Studio, Art Centre, March 18 to April 3, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:****

For the characters in J.T. Rogers’ play, Madagascar represents the exotic and unknown, a fanciful dream world, buts also the painful reality of famine and despair in Africa.

Rogers’ play is cunningly constructed by threading together the stories of three characters whose lives intersect in painfully intense ways. Time is elastic; memory bleeds into real time and characters who have been separated for years, share the same space, conjuring memories, snatches of conversation, arguments and past golden times.

Noni Hazlehurst gives an inspired and subtle performance as Lilian, a wealthy, acerbic and driven New Yorker who “stays in motion”, travelling the world to avoid her guilt and pain about her missing son, Paul.

Lilian raised her son and daughter, June (Asher Keddie) virtually alone, while her husband, Arthur, a charismatic and renowned economist, pursued his research in Madagascar.

Keddie is pale, luminous and emotionally fragile as June, who puts her life on hold to hunt for her brother.

Dancing around the edges of their lives is Nathan (Nicholas Bell), a less successful colleague of Arthur’s, who finds himself in a secret affair with Lilian. He is played with vibrating anxiety and self-doubt by Bell.

A powerful but unseen presence on stage with them is Paul, the missing son. His mother and sister adore him but we cannot help feeling that he is a narcissistic young man, obsessed with his father and determined to punish his mother, sister and Nathan for their human failings.

The play takes place in an apartment overlooking the Spanish Steps in Rome. In this flat Lilian awaits her son’s arrival years earlier. It is the same place where June, for several years, tragically lives her life as a tour guide hoping for the return of Paul, and where Nathan reminisces about his time with Lilian.

Rogers’ dialogue is intelligent, articulate, witty and caustic. His observations about our dangerous and rapidly changing contemporary world are compelling and often funny. His characters come alive for us through their inner worlds, their memories and their hidden pain. It takes most of the first half for us to comprehend his complex interweaving of their stories.

Director, Sam Strong, moves his characters like ghosts, their paths weaving through the sparse, architectural design (Jo Briscoe). Paul Jackson’s lighting highlights the isolation of the characters and creates a flickering, otherworldly light through reflections from the water lying on the stone paved ground.

Madagascar is a mesmerising and superbly acted and directed production.

By Kate Herbert

Mamma Mia ***1/2

Mamma Mia

Music by Benny Andersson & Bjorn Ulvaeus, Book by Catherine Johnson

Where and When: Her Majesty’s, from Feb 13

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars: ***1/2

Mamma Mia! is back and the stars are Benny and Bjorn’s songs from the phenomenally successful ABBA. Every song is a potential Eurovision winner. ABBA’s lyrics tell stories about love, loss and lifestyle so they lend themselves readily to musical theatre.

The narrative, by Catherine Johnson, is tissue-thin. Former wild girl, Donna (Anne Wood), runs a taverna on a Greek island. Her daughter, Sophie (Suzie Mathers) is marrying Sky (David Somerville), at the delicate age of 20; too early according to her 70s feminist mother.

High jinks begin when Sophie, unbeknown to her single mother, invites mum's three ex-lovers (Michael Cormick, Robert Grubb, Peter Hardy) to her wedding, hoping one of them is her unacknowledged dad.

The massive chorus numbers are electrifying including Voulez Vous, a sassy, sexy dance party with writhing bodies and Gimme Gimme Gimme, which features the seductive, youthful chorus. Under Attack is a quirky dream sequence with chorus wearing fluoro snorkels and flippers.

The dialogue is cheesy and awkward, lacking the necessary comic flair, making characters look two-dimensional. It works best when threaded into songs or underscored by music. The songs more successfully reveal characters’ inner lives and relationships.

Donna and her pals, Tanya (Jennifer Vuletic) and Rosie (Lara Mulcahy) are a treat reprising their past glories as Donna and the Dynamos, singing Super Trouper wearing white lycra and platform boots. And their encore of Dancing Queen is genuine ABBA.

Wood’s rendition of The Winner Takes it All is impassioned as is Mamma Mia, which accompanies her melt down when she sees her lover, Sam, after 20 years. Vuletic is an Amazonian temptress singing Does Your Mother Know surrounded by athletic boys, and Mulcahy rouses the quiet audience to clap along in her hilarious version of Take a Chance on Me.

Mathers brings a simple charm to Sophie with her warm, bright voice. Michael Cormick is absolutely delicious as Sam with his thrilling, rich and powerful voice. He even looks good in orange lycra!

The audience was strangely subdued for an opening night – no celebrities whooping and clapping. But the show escalates to a big musical finish with I Do I Do I Do and Dancing Queen. Then the crowd finally leapt to its feet in the finale, Waterloo, when Wood asked, “Do you want to dance?”

By Kate Herbert

Silvia Plath: The Girl Who Wanted to be God**

Silvia Plath: The Girl Who Wanted to be God

Gallery 314, Richmond

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on February 14, 2010

Stars:**

This week was the anniversary of American poet, Silvia Plath’s suicide in 1963. She was 30 at the time of her death but had produced a novel, The Bell Jar, and books of poetry including her early work in The Colossus and more mature work in Ariel.

The Girl Who Wanted to be God was originally developed by Gillian Hardy, Karen Corbett and Rosemary Johns with Brenda Palmer, who directs this production. The play attempts to depict, in an abstract form, Plath’s entire short, life: childhood, college years, her fraught marriage to, and separation from controversial English poet, Ted Hughes and more. Dramatising a biography is a tall order. A life rarely has a natural dramatic arc because of its ups and downs – and Plath’s life was certainly an emotional and psychological roller coaster.

The stylisation and abstraction of this production unfortunately obscure the story and character rather than illuminating them. The performance style feels laboured and script structure rather dated, like something devised in a 1970s drama workshop.

Plath is played by three women, all older than Plath, who depict Plath’s inner world by playing three alter egos: the parent (Laura Hill), the adult (Carolyn Masson), and the child (Peppa Sindar). Presumably, this is based on the old theory of Transactional Analysis that suggests that, at any one time, our thoughts and actions are governed by our inner parent, adult or child.

The trio communicate as separate voices in Plath’s head and through their stylised movements. There is insufficient detail or complexity to the movement which often feels undirected or aimless, and the actors look a little uncomfortable. Kasey Gambling’s unaccompanied snatches of song add another layer to the piece but the singing seems to be added on rather than fully incorporated.

The staging of this production needs greater complexity and resonance in order to capture the vivid, intense, layered and messy inner world of Plath and the velvety darkness of her poetry. The metaphoric form, in the end, does not quite work.

By Kate Herbert

Farragut North ****1/2

Farragut North 

By Beau Willimon, Red Stitch Actors Theatre

 Rear 2 Chapel St., St. Kilda, February 5 to March 6, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars: 4****1/2

Published in Herald Sun

The zesty dialogue crackles with wit and adrenalin in Farragut North, by Beau Willimon. The play dives headlong into the secretive, manipulative world of a political campaign for the nomination of the US Democratic presidential candidate. It is a world of spin doctors, ambitious interns, fawning campaign assistants, cut-throat journalists and competing party factions. This world makes you want to be a kindergarten teacher.

If you’re a West Wing fan, the characters, issues, whirlwind negotiations and back stabbing will be familiar. An hour is a very long time in politics. Careers and reputations are ruined in minutes with an ill-chosen word or a secret meeting. Willimon worked on political campaigns, including Sen. Hillary Clinton’s, and his inside knowledge gives authenticity and credibility to his revengers’ tragedy-style plotting. Give them swords and kings to overthrow and it could be Shakespeare.

Brett Cousins is driven and hard-headed as Stephen, 25-year old Press Secretary for Presidential candidate, Morris. He is a battery-powered machine, a calculating, media wunderkind who controls the campaign message. David Whiteley plays, with battle-wearied assurance, Stephen’s boss, Paul, the campaign warhorse who demands loyalty – although Whiteley appears a little too fit and youthful.

Stephen wrangles voracious Times journalist, Ida, who is played with steely determination by Karen Roberts. Lucy Honigman is sassy and confident as clever intern, Molly, who seduces her bosses. Tim Potter is marvellously understated and obsequious as lurking Deputy Press Secretary, Ben, who Stephen ignores to his own detriment.

Iowa seems to be in the bag and their candidate looks set to win. But Stephen’s dreams of a golden future crumble after he meets secretly with opposition Campaign Manager, Tom, portrayed with calm, ruthless confidence by Kurt Geyer.

Willimon’s script is cleverly crafted with plenty of plot twists and red herrings. Kim Durban’s production is taut and her direction of this accomplished cast is assured. Peter Mumford’s design is stark, cool and flexible in the small space and the entire production gives the impression of a rarefied, secretive world of intrigue, conspiracy and menace.

Life in this political fast lane is short, dangerous and not to be trusted. There is little to criticise in this script and Durban’s production. It is funny, challenging, superbly acted and inventively plotted. Aaron Sorkin must be jealous!

By Kate Herbert

Lloyd Beckmann, Beekeeper **1/2

 Lloyd Beckmann, Beekeeper 

By Tim Stitz and Kelly Somes

Where and When: La Mama, Feb 4 to 1, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars: **1/2

Being in the tiny La Mama space for Lloyd Beckmann, Beekeeper, makes the experience very intimate and personalised. The style is less like a play and more like a personal chat with a cheerful, old bloke called Lloyd Beckmann (Tim Stitz). 

La Mama is transformed into Lloyd’s living room, complete with comfy armchairs, pouffes, cushions, shelves crammed with family photos, books, and other memorabilia.

Lloyd Beckmann was Stitz’s paternal grandfather and the performance is really a tribute to the old man’s indefatigable character and relentless good cheer in the face of adversity. Stitz greets us in the newly renovated La Mama courtyard. He wears beekeeping regalia and conducts an informative session about beekeeping and honey beside a series of hives. Later, we even get to taste honeycomb and are treated to an aromatic sensurround (Jodie Ahrens).

Lloyd was born early last century in Queensland and tried making a living from his honey but resorted to working as a colliery manager until retirement at 64. Everything went pear-shaped with two bad business investments and he and his wife ended up living in a caravan in their latter years.

Stitz devised the play with director, Kelly Somes. The structure of the stories needs some work to make it a more theatrically compelling piece, despite its warmth and intimacy. The through line is unclear and the parallel stories of beekeeping and Lloyd’s personal life are not effectively interwoven. The play could make more of the metaphoric references about the older generation handing on to the next and the old queen bee being replaced by the new breeder.

There is a great deal of love in Stitz’s performance and we feel part of the family and its trial by the time we leave. The most emotive and riveting moment is when we hear Lloyd’s own cracked and aged voice on a cassette tape recording from 2004. Here he comes to life even more vividly than in his grandson’s depiction of him.

By Kate Herbert

Acts of Deceit (Between Strangers in a Room) ****

Acts of Deceit (Between Strangers in a Room) 

By Gary Abrahams, Dirty Theatre

La Mama Courthouse, until Feb 7, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***1/2

 Published in Herald Sun 

The title of Gary Abrahams play tells all; people wall themselves up in dingy Parisian rooms where they deceive themselves and each other. They may be lovers, but they remain strangers in crucial ways because of their dishonesty. 

The script, adapted loosely from James Baldwin’s novella, Giovanni’s Room, is a densely written and emotionally taxing, romantic tragedy, although it initially disguises itself as a coming out in Paris story set in the 1950s.

The production has complex, layered acting. David (Jay Bowen) is a decorative but confused, young American living in Paris to find himself – and waiting for his father to send the money he desperately needs. He waits for his girl, Hella (Joanne Trentini), a brisk, progressive miss and another American child of the wealthy. 

Hella travels Spain to consider David’s marriage proposal. Everything goes pear-shaped by the time she comes back to gay Paris; it is much more gay than when she left – and so is her fiance.

While visiting a bar with his jaded, older friend, Jacques (Dion Mills), David meets Ku-Jean (Terry Yeboah), a lusciously attractive, African refugee. David spends the night, and the next several months, at Ku-Jean’s cheap, grubby room.

The play raises issues including love and lust, sexual attraction, sexual preference and what is considered perversion. It spotlights the profound guilt of the deceitful and the despair of the closeted and raises oppressive roles imposed upon women in mid-20^th century marriage. There are also some ironic references to Americans being pure and happy people from a safe land with no murderers.

Bowen gives an accomplished performance as David, balancing passion with poignant despair while Yeboah is passionate and thrilling as the beautiful, exotic Ku-Jean. Abrahams directs their loves scenes tastefully and sensitively.

Trentini takes us on Hella’s roller coaster ride, beginning as a brusque, smart, independent woman but sliding into a drunken funk when she realises her life with David is collapsing and she is facing a lonely marriage. Mills captures the world-weariness of Jacques in his barely perceptible sneer and his slow, cat-like gait. Zoe Ellerton-Ashley, as the raddled, young American, Sue, has a disconsolate feel lying just below her artificial cheer.

Acts of Deceit could benefit from some editing and a less cluttered design, but it is a rich and well-acted production.

By Kate Herbert

The Drowsy Chaperone ****

The Drowsy Chaperone

Music & Lyrics by Lisa Lambert & Greg Morrison, Book by Bob Martin & Don McKellar

Produced by Melbourne Theatre Company

Where and When: Playhouse, Victorian Arts Centre, January 22 to Feb 27, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:****

 Published in Herald Sun

The Drowsy Chaperone is a pleasing, cheesy musical, catering to jaded 21^st century sensibilities by poking fun at the trite plots, stereotypes, soppy romanticism and flimsy narratives of music theatre. It is fast, hilarious and derivative but it presses the right buttons with its familiarity and cheekiness.

The show, directed snappily by Simon Phillips, is riddled with smart, modern references and tightly written, impeccably timed gags. Our petulant snipes – normally muttered in the darkness of the stalls – are voiced by our onstage, contemporary, alter ego, a disconsolate, lonely show-queen. His obsession with early 20^th century musicals establishes the framework for this play within a play.

Simply called The Man in the Chair, he is played by the inimitable Geoffrey Rush who reels us in with his playful but poignant portrayal of this misfit. In the opening blackout, he whines, “I hate theatre.” (Laugh) “Well, it’s so disappointing, isn’t it?” (Bigger laugh). We love him already. Through The Man, we participate vicariously as he perches on an old armchair, clutching a brandy, playing his Mum’s musical recordings and narrating his favourite, The Drowsy Chaperone, an obscure, forgettable 1920s musical.

This structure allows writers, Bob Martin and Don McKellar, to interrupt, edit, fast-forward and commentate upon flaws in the lyrics, racial stereotypes, idiotic slapstick routines and on the personal lives and deaths of the original cast. There is no perceptible dramatic arc except, perhaps, for The Man’s occasional revelations about his isolation and his love of the musicals that divert him from his blues.

The stage is small but The Man’s dreary, cramped apartment transforms – through the magic of Dale Ferguson’s set and costumes – into a luxurious mansion. He inserts himself into the 1920s production, singing and dancing awkwardly with his favourite stars, popping up in the middle of a chorus line.

Sultry, rich-voiced Rhonda Burchmore plays the vampish chaperone, whose ‘drowsiness’ increases with every martini. Christie Whelan is vivacious as show-off showgirl, Janet, while Alex Rathgeber is suitably conceited as her white-toothed beau whose tap routine with Rohan Browne, the zealous best man, is a highlight (choreography by Andrew Hallsworth). Adam Murphy is delicious as over-acting latin lover, Aldolpho, and Shane Jacobson booms as overblown producer, Feldzieg.

The onstage band is tight playing songs by Lambert and Morrison that parody musical and vaudeville styles with titles such as, Accident Waiting to Happen, As We Stumble Along, The Bride’s Lament and Toledo Surprise.  This show ain’t high art, but it’s fun!

By Kate Herbert

Shadow Boxing ***1/2

Shadow Boxing 

By James Gaddas, by Groundswell Division

Tower Theatre, Malthouse, Jan 20 to Feb 6, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars: ***1/2

Published in Herald Sun

Shadow Boxing, by James Gaddas, is an intensely physical one-man play that combines the gritty, street language of a professional boxer with a more poetical and tender style. Matt Rainey is compelling as Flynn, a talented, and ambitious young professional boxer who fights to win respect and to conceal his secrets.

Flynn arrives, bruised and blood-spattered, at a boxing studio. He seems haunted by his past and the memories of his childhood witnessing his father, a tenacious but hopeless boxer, lose fight after fight. Flynn confronts the audience directly as he self-narrates his story of pain, loss, ambition and sexual confusion.

He relives his schoolboy pleas to learn to read, his first and only sexual experience with a girl, his introduction to boxing, his 14 straight match wins and, finally, his title fight. He calls his right fist “the Apocalypse” and sees his hands as both creators and purveyors of violence. Fighters, he says, are animals, but he craves to move like a dancer. He is determined to earn the title, money and prestige but, even more, he yearns for respect.

Rainey brings passion, muscularity as well as poignancy to Flynn’s story. He inhabits Flynn, capturing a fine balance between his vulnerability and his violence. As he pounds the punching bag, we can feel Flynn’s desperation and fear, his childlike need for love and respect and his panic as he waits to face the consequences of his violent actions.

Gil Tucker, former television actor, directs Rainey with a deft hand, maintaining a brisk pace and escalating drama. His economical direction and Dayna Morrissey’s spare design keep the focus on Flynn’s inner turmoil. Danny Pettingill’s lighting and Liam Barton’s sound design are simple but evocative.

Flynn’s fight is with himself rather than his opponents as he struggles to overcome childhood bullying, shame about his father’s failure and uncertainty about his own identity. Shadow Boxing is a tight, well-acted and moving short play with something to say about male violence.

By Kate Herbert

A Midsummer Night’s Dream ***

By William Shakespeare, Australian Shakespeare Company

Where and When: Botanical Gardens, Observatory Gate, until March 13

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

Will Shakespeare used bawdy language and characters in A Midsummer Night’s Dream and in other plays. Glenn Elston’s production ratchets up the innuendo a notch to give this Shakespeare under the stars production an even more raunchy edge. Nothing nasty – just good fun.

This the 21^st year of Shakespeare in the Botanical Gardens and this entertaining production once more brings Shakespeare to an audience that might not ever see it in the theatre. The Dream is the perfect choice for outdoors. It is a romantic comedy – known as Rom-Coms in Hollywood. It is a delicious blend of love, slapstick and magic all embedded in toffy Shakespeare language with contemporary references tossed into the mix to make you feel at home.

There are doting and jealous lovers, macho rivalry and even a girl fight. Then come the mad, slapstick tradesmen-clowns doing hilariously bad, amateur theatre for the Duke (Hugh Sexton) and his wife (Josephine Bloom). Throw in some acrobatic fairies, a sexy Titania, Queen of the Fairies (Shireen Morris) and her bellowing, muscular hubby, Oberon (Kevin Hopkins) and you have a recipe for a slightly arty picnic on a warm night.

The highlight, as usual, is the amateur dramatics and Brendan O’Connor, as Bottom the Weaver, is a hit. O’Connor’s Bottom (no pun intended) is athletic, conceited, incompetent and deluded about his talent. His character grabs the limelight and delivers every line with pompous histrionics but the peak is O’Connor’s interminable death scene that had the crowd cheering. Have a bottle of wine first. It will be even funnier.

He is ably accompanied by the ensemble of clowns, all of them being double cast in other roles. Andrew Bongiorno plays Lysander as a showy rap artist and Anthony Rive makes Demetrius a poncy boy scout. Olivia Simone is a sassy Hermia and Terri Brabon has fun playing Helena as a plain Jane with appalling dress sense. Adam Pedicini is an acrobatic and perky Puck although he is more comfortable physically than vocally.

Pick a warm, dry evening, pack a bottle of wine and some sangers and enjoy a night with the Bard under the stars. The Gardens look spectacular under theatre lights – and so do the possums.

By Kate Herbert

2009 Theatre Wrap, Melbourne, Dec 27, 2009

2009 Theatre Wrap, Melbourne

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Published in Herald Sun, Melbourne

There were myriad shows that I missed in 2009 however, the Brits won my points for fine script writing this year and many were low-budget productions. Lobby Hero was a complex, intimate, English play about moral dilemmas while Cold Comfort grabbed me round the neck and shook me hard with its gritty portrayal of a prodigal son returning to his father’s wake in Belfast.

The Melbourne Festival provided two compelling and innovative productions: Pornography, a riveting English play produced by a German company, and Terminus, with its grim but comical, other-worldly tale about death, loss and love in an Irish urban landscape.

Independent Australian plays scored well too. Ash Flanders was gaspingly good reprising the disturbed and disturbing Manchester boy in I Love You Bro. Denis Moore and Margaret Mills shone in the distressing play, And No More Shall We Part while Finucane and Smith produced two sublimely joyful, eccentric shows: Salon de Dance and The Feast of Argentina Gina Catalina.

Big shows took my fancy too. I laughed like a drain at Pamela Rabe and Hugo Weaving in Yasmina Reza’s God Of Carnage at MTC. Neil Pigot’s opening scene in When the Rain Stops Falling was inspired although the rest of the play was less successful.

Musicals won hearts this year with Billy Elliot being the stand out followed by Jersey Boys and the acerbic, naughty Avenue Q. However, Chicago looked tired when it reached Melbourne.

At the MTC, August Osage County boasted a marvellous cast but its iconic status as the new “American family drama” was unwarranted. Poor Boy did not integrate songs and story well and Rockabye started comical but became didactic. The Malthouse had a mixed year with Lally Katz’s script for Goodbye Vaudeville Charlie Mudd being chaotic and Woyzeck favouring style over content.

Keep going to the theatre in 2010. There is always a gem to be found for a few dollars in a tiny, out-of-the-way theatre.

by Kate Herbert

Godzone by Max Gillies ***

 By Max Gillies & Guy Rundle, Melbourne Theatre Company

Where and When: Sumner Theatre, MTC, December 11, 2009 January 17, 2010

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

Max Gillies and writer, Guy Rundle, rejigged some characters in their political satire, Godzone, prior to opening. A week is a long time in politics and, recently, we saw the Federal Liberal Party eat its own liver (or leader). The changes perhaps took Gillies and Rundle by surprise but they optimised their connectivity paradigm – to coin a Ruddism – and slotted the political innovations into the show.

Godzone (sounds like “God’s Own”) resembles Kevin Rudd’s 2020 vision conference. Gillies impersonates a parade of smarty-pants, public personalities. His version of Rudd is squeaky clean, combed and pressed as he tortures the English language, combining incomprehensible management speak with Aussie clichés. Godzone is “an Australian thoughtgather dreamcatch maximising possibility and connectivity” – and it’s also “really bonza”.

Gillies, directed by Aidan Fennessy, performs solo so his characterisations rely heavily on extraordinary wigs (Jurga Celikiene OK), make-up design (Nik Dorning) and video sketches to cover costume changes. His Rudd is uncannily accurate in speech and appearance while others are more caricatures.

Gillies’ Tony Abbott, with wing-nut ears, stammers his conference address which comprises mostly Rudd bashing (“Goody-two-shoes”), lamenting the dark day in 2007 when Australians made a huge error voting for Labour, and informing us that he is God’s choice for PM. Malcolm Turnbull also makes a brief appearance looking bemused.

English-American columnist and self-styled intellectual, Christopher Hitchens, appears as a slightly sozzled, pompous ass from the “Socialist Workers’ Party, Wimbledon branch”, explaining his neo-conservative take on Iraq.

Gillies does a fair version of Gillard treating us like kids at the opening of a School of the Future although he misses her nasal twang. Several video sketches are hilarious parodies. Joe Hockey appears jolly and confused, clutching a snack and babbling distractedly. Barnaby Joyce is a riot in a shouting TV ad selling petrol-guzzling cars.

A certain conservative columnist from this paper pops up too. (Initials AB. Can you guess?)  bullishly attacking the brunch-eating, caffe-latte-sipping, inner-city mob that is so out of touch with his enormous readership.

Huge laughs accompany the bogus conference sponsors’ ads. Singh’s Tandoori Takeaway and Training Institute gets big hoots as does the obscure, corporate sponsor, Omnicorp, that produces…um…well, we have no idea.

There is plenty of new material in this tight parody of our political landscape. No one escapes the wrath of Gillies and Rundle.

By Kate Herbert

 

Life is a Dream at Storeroom ***

 Adapted from Pedro Calderon de la Barca

 Storeroom, November 19 to  29, 2009

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

Expect violence, chaos and filth in Daniel Schlusser’s version of Calderon’s 17^th century Spanish play, Life is a Dream.  In this interpretation, life is a nightmare. If you want a classical production you will not get it here. Schlusser uses some of Calderon’s language, translated by Beatrix Christian, but he deconstructs the original play until it is almost unrecognisable.

His production interweaves scenes involving the actors as themselves, with speeches from Calderon’s play that is set in the royal court of Poland. The power struggles, brutal acts of vengeance and unprovoked violence of Calderon’s characters are echoed in the actors’ unpredictable interactions, status games, imaginative play, story-telling and verbal and physical abuse.

It is a potentially compelling mix. The parallels in the relationships between the actors themselves and their characters create another theatrical layer. Of course, the intention is to deconstruct and create a new piece of theatre but this device does not always illuminate the themes and characters, and causes the narrative to lose clarity.

The stage is a dangerous place in this production. The actors’ violence is very close to the audience and feels very real. They torment each other and it is uncomfortable for us, as if we are witnessing the persecution and abuse first-hand, and are unable to take action to stop it. The actors crawl and fight in what looks like a filthy squat (design by Marg Horwell) scattered with the detritus of years of unwholesome living.

The deconstructed form almost entirely obscures the interesting complexities of the original plot and its characters. There is also a conflict between the two styles of language: the contemporary-casual versus the classical-poetic. About half way through the show, Calderon’s characters start to take over from the workshop experimentation of the actors.

The original mythical story goes: King Basilio (Andrew Dunn) imprisoned his baby son, Segismundo (Johnny Carr), because his horoscope predicted that he would bring dishonour on Poland.  Years later, Basilio releases his son and convinces him that it was all a dream. Segismundo falls in love with his cousin, Estrella (Sophie Mathisen) but his years of incarceration made him vengeful and he attacks the king.

There is certainly something gripping in this production. However, it feels busy and sometimes lacks cohesion of all its disparate elements.

By Kate Herbert

David Strassman: Teddy’s Farewell Tour ***

Atheneaum Theatre, Nov 13 to Dec 6, 2009

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

David Strassman, American comic ventriloquist, has a fiercely loyal fan base in Melbourne for his characters, Ted E. Bare and Chuck Wood. He brings his show to the Athenaeum Theatre almost annually and his followers carry teddies and wear his T-shirts with the ardent commitment of AFL fans.

The sentimental audience favourite of Strassman’s characters is the charming Ted E. Bare who is a naïve, slow-talking, goofy and over-sized teddy. Strassman manages to give the inanimate puppet soulful eyes and a cuteness factor of 100.  This show is billed as “Ted E’s Farewell Tour” and Ted milks the audience’s empathy for all he is worth.

Ted E’s primary antagonist, and the audience’s other favourite, is Chuck Wood, the puppet world’s answer to villains. He is cunning, lying, conceited, foul-mouthed, sexist and intolerant of everyone and everything. He taunts Ted E, Strassman and us – and we love him for it. Chuck is the classic ventriloquist doll with a cheeky, wooden head. (Anyone remember Gerry Gee and Ron Blaskett?)

When Ted E. announces he is leaving the show, it draws gasps and howls of “Don’t go, Ted E!” from the crowd and “Good riddance” from Chuck and the other characters. Strassman’s cast includes Sid the Beaver, a crass stand-up comedian, Grandpa Fred, a forgetful old teddy with a penchant for hookers, and Kevin, the kooky Alien.

Strassman’s technique is impeccable and, when ventriloquism errors occur, he makes them into gags. His comedy relies on classic, verbal and often vulgar stand-up routines as well as his cleverly created puppet characters.

Strassman’s newest creations are electronic puppets that he calls puppetronics. These include some marvellous inventions such as a very talented and acrobatic 20cm robot that almost steals the show and an electronic chorus of dinosaurs that sing Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody in perfect harmony. The remote electronic controls trigger a head-scratching, how-did-he-do-that reaction from the audience.

All that being said, the show feels a little tired, too long, and the style, at times, feels a bit dated. The fans, however, seemed to be delighted to witness the reprise of all their old favourite gags and characters.

By Kate Herbert

Faces in the Crowd by Leo Butler ***

 By Leo Butler, Red Stitch Actors Theatre

At Red Stitch Actors' Theatre, Oct 24 to Nov 7, 2009

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:***

With nearly half of our married population facing divorce in their lives, Leo Butler’s Faces in the Crowd may hit a nerve in many people. This two-hander depicts an intense, uncomfortable, warts-and-all insight into the weird reunion of a couple ten years after separation.

Their meeting is emotionally bloody. Dave (David Whiteley), after five years of marriage to Joanne (Sarah Sutherland), disappeared ten years ago, leaving Joanne in the north of England with huge debts, unanswered questions and a deep incomprehension of why she was left without a word. Dave was never heard of again – until now.

And the pain gets worse. Joanne, after recent contact from Dave, arrives at his fancy London studio flat. She is bitter, angry and sniping at him. He is contrite initially, conciliatory, inviting her to walk by the Thames.

Whiteley and Sutherland capture the awful discomfort and awkwardness of this couple that now have nothing in common. We wonder whether they ever did when he describes how he felt trapped, dead and needed to escape when their marriage was at an end.

We also wonder why the heck he invited her to his home and why she came. They snipe and bicker, defend themselves and attack with cruel words and even physical violence. And why is Joanne slowly and surreptitiously and with what appears to be almost shame, peeling her clothes off ? And why is Dave not commenting?

But all becomes clear when we realise that she is taking her pound of flesh or, rather his seed. Joanne is closing 40 and wants a baby – and Dave owes it to her.

The acting is skilful. Whiteley captures the slick, smug tone and demeanour of this evidently successful corporate player and middle-aged womaniser. He has an edge of violence balanced with his smooth talking and courtesy. Sutherland gives Joanne the brittle, shattered look of the abandoned wife and her petite frame makes Joanne vulnerable and childlike. Her Northern accent gives her an alien quality that she accentuates to highlight the changes that time has wrought on her estranged husband.

Sam Strong’s production is claustrophobic, containing the actors in a set (Dayna Morrissey) that gives them barely room to dodge each other’s blows and verbal attacks. Strong keeps the pair jammed up against each other which accentuates their lack of intimacy by their desperate and dangerous proximity.

This play will leave you with clenched fists and holding your breath.

By Kate Herbert

When The Rain Stops Falling, MTC ****

by Andrew Bovell, Melbourne Theatre Company with Brink Productions

 Sumner Theatre, MTC, October 13 to November 22, 2009

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars:****

Rain falls, rivers flood and lives are changed during the eight decades of When The Rain Stops Falling. This family epic tale is about the human condition. What else? It allows us to view, through the foggy glass of time, the evolution of a family over four generations as the bloodlines of two families collide.

It is a melancholy tale about fraught people who cannot express their emotions so they clam up and cut off their loved ones, leaving them alone and broken. There is a sense of hollowness and quiet despair in every person.

The play begins in 2039 in Alice Springs, returns to London in 1959 and continues in South Australia in 1988 and 2013. It covers an expansive physical, psychological and emotional landscape but also zooms in on minute character details. We witness the echoes of traits that jump generations. Everybody suffers a tragedy, is abandoned and feels the absence of a person, of love or of purpose.

Parallel to the human story is the devastation of the land and the climate. There is drought and flooding rain. What begins as a turn of phrase – “People are drowning in Bangladesh” – becomes fact.

It rains on stage. Gabriel York (Neil Pigot) stands under an umbrella. A fish falls out of the sky. It is a miracle, like manna from heaven. Fish are now a delicacy near extinction. The man, addressing us directly, explains the phone call and impending visit from the son (Yalin Ozucelik OK) he abandoned when the boy was a child. By sending the fish, the heavens provide lunch for the son.

Pigot is magnetic and poignant as both Gabriel and his own grandfather, Henry. His opening scene is compelling and the highlight of the show. There are fine performances from Ozucelik, Anna Lise Phillips, Kris McQuade, Carmel Johnson, Paul Blackwell and Michaela Cantwell. Quentin Grant provides evocative live music.

Bovell’s script was developed in collaboration with director, Chris Drummond, designer, Hossein Valamanesh, (OK) and actors. However, the spare style, complex dramatic structure, interlocking narrative threads and reincorporation of dialogue and themes are signatures of Bovell’s writing.

The audience must work to draw together the elements. Not until the final scene are we certain where this story is heading. The production is quirky and interesting but the repetitive, almost rippling rhythm slows it down, reducing a little the impact of such resonant themes.

By Kate Herbert