Mothballs, March 9, 2001

By Jack Hibberd

Chapel off Chapel, March 9 until 1 April, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Jack Hibberd's style is recognisably idiosyncratic even after thirty or so years of writing for the Australian theatre. Mothballs, his latest monologue in a series of new plays, is performed with zest by his partner, Evelyn Krape. It has his signature written all over it.

The language is complex, witty and littered with literary references and local colour. Krape is a woman in mourning after the death of her husband, Ashley Smith. She is called Jocasta which is an allusion to the ancient Greek character and her fraught marriage. Attaching the surname Smith to such an epic name as Jocasta, is a typical Hibberd tilt.

He gets laughs from purposely misusing words, misquoting proverbs or cliches, poems or philosphers or placing anachronistic ideas together. Hibberd's writing is like a quick flit around the intelligentsia while simultaneously cocking a snoot at them.

This monologue is not quite as successful as Lavendar Bags Hibberd's previous piece performed by Krape last year. It is not as cohesive and has less of the relentless fury and hilarity.

However, it is clever and delightfully wicked and irreverent, with both poignant and funny moments. HIbberd's direction of his own play is cheeky and anarchic. Krape cavorts and capers in a parody of joy and despair. She is warm and charming as she leaps from mania to weeping, ecstasy to angst in a moment.

There is the opportunity for her performance to plumb the depths of anguish further. Her two styles of deep penetration of an emotion and hilarious parody of human pain are well-suited to this production but both could be a little sharper.

Even the choice of recorded music is funny. Mozart's Requiem is counterpointed with Chubby Checker and African drum music.

The presence of the corpse in a body bag on a marriage bed in the space is grotesque and funny. This epitomises the Hibberd humour. If it's sacred or serious, let's treat it irreverently. Now, there's a sound philosophy!

By Kate Herbert

Betrayal, MTC, Feb 28, 2001

 by Harold Pinter

 MTC at Fairfax Studio, Feb 28  until 12 April, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

There is a creeping fear in us all of betrayal by a lover, a partner, a friend. In Harold Pinter's 1978 play, Betrayal, a wife's affair with her husband's best friend for seven years is not the only treachery.

Emma, played with great composure by Sigrid Thornton, sets up a little secret love nest with Jerry (Richard Piper) unknown, or so we think, to her husband, Robert (Martin Jacobs).

The beauty of Pinter's structuring of this deceptively simple play, is that we know everything from the first scene. He runs the play backwards chronologically and we see the last meeting of Emma and Jerry at the point of Emma and Robert's separation.

We all know the destructive power of deception and infidelity. We recognise, even predict, the ruin in others. We are blind to our own spiral into self-destruction through love.

This is a strong production of an exceptional play directed unobtrusively and intelligently by Kate Cherry, designed stylishly by Anna Borghesi with music by Ian McDonald.

My only quibble is that it lacks some of the necessary passion and sensuality seen in other productions or in the English film starring Jeremy Irons.

Thornton is well known and highly regarded for her screen work but this is her first stage appearance and she demonstrates that she possesses the vocal and emotional range for this part.

Piper is suitably chipper and anxious as Jerry while Jacobs gives a delightfully muscular performance as the abrasive and brusque Robert.

Pinter, by running the story in reverse, allows us to view not the breakdown of the relationships but where they have come from and how they have bren.

He explores the fickleness of not only love but of memory. Even the characters' most precious memories are questioned. This play was based on Pinter's own experience of a triangle of love with Joan Bakewell.

Betrayal was a departure from Pinter's obscure, ambiguous and oblique earlier plays such as The Birthday Party, The Homecoming and The Caretaker. However, he retains the crispness of the dialogue, and the subtle representation of misunderstandings and unspent thoughts of the early works.

By Kate Herbert

Miss Tanaka, Feb 21, 2001

Miss Tanaka by John Romeril 

Playbox Theatre

at Merlin Theatre, Feb 21 until March 10, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

John Romeril's new play, Miss Tanaka is charming, witty and pretty. It is, in myriad ways, a mixed-media production. Not only does it integrate puppetry, video, original composition and choreography, it has strong inter-cultural themes.

David Bell , Artistic Director of Handspan Theatre, worked with John Romeril on developing this script from a Xavier Herbert short story from 1997.

Mott, a young Englishman, played with style and charm by Jeremy Stanford, arrives in Broome in North West Australia in 1939 just as the war with Japan begins. He takes over his father's pearling company which, of course, employs many Japanese as pearl divers.

The story is simple. Mott is bemused by the rough and ready behaviour of the locals. He is met by a young Japanese-Torres Strait Islander, Kazuhiko (Bradley Byquar) whose father, Mr Tanaka (Tam Phan) is a swindling but lovable rogue who runs cock fights and Sumo wrestling.

Tanaka compels his son, Kazuhiko, to dress as a naive Japanese girl,  the Miss Tanaka of the title. His two betting friends, Hanif ( Tony Yap) and Sakamoto ( Yumi Umiumare) offer dowries of pearls for her hand in marriage. This beauty in drag also catches the eye and the heart of young Mr Mott.

As Mott, Stanford is a warm and magnetic presence on stage. He does a delightful crowd-pleasing Fred Astaire song and dance routine to Things are Looking Up.

The design by Greg Clarke is a broad white stage lit by David Walters. The design is projected onto the white screens with images, slides and shadow puppetry. The entire bar-room opium and card-game sequence is played in stylish video footage with a peppy 1930s atmosphere.

Yap and Umiumare create a clever comic double act and their dance skills are exploited effectively by choreographer, Andris Toppe . Live drummers, Junko and Toshi Sakamoto, provide live performance of Darrin Verhagen's percussive music.

Puppeteers, Heather Monk and Megan Cameron, manipulate Rob Matson's hilarious and provocative puppets with great skill and impact.

This is a sweet show that leaves one smiling. It does not challenge major issues but it looks beautiful, is wittily written and technically ambitious .

By Kate Herbert

My Brother the Fish, Feb 15, 2001

by Dan Scollay and John Bolton

Feb 15, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

We are still charmed, even as adults, by a simple, well-told story. My Brother the Fish is just that; a poignant, evocative and sweet Irish tale performed by Dan Scollay and directed by John Bolton.

Scollay is a magnetic performer who trained with Bolton in clown and physical theatre. Together they take Helen Luke's story, Salmon Fisher Boy, and transform it into a delightful, entertaining and skilful theatrical journey.

Rosie is an Irish peasant girl who works gutting fish. She was born with a twin brother who is less than clever in school but has a magic touch with fishing. He is raised by their granny, drawn to the water, fails at school but fills his trawler with fish.

Scollay, dressed quaintly in a pair of Bond's knickers and a jumper, perches on a tin can and guts two fish in a bucket. Yes, really! As he creates Rosie, her brother, granny and the morose old fisherman, we catch the real scent of fish in the air. It is both disturbing and atmospheric.

Her vocal and physical versatility enhance the characterisations. She does not so much transform into the characters as sketch them with her voice and body. Her depiction of Sister Finnegan, the mean religious maniacal nun, is masterly.

Her comic and dramatic timing is impeccable. Scollay is relaxed as well as poised like a cat for every movement, every subtle shift of emphasis.

Of course, much of the strength of the piece is in the direction and co-writing of John Bolton. His hand is evident in the show's eccentric twists.

An extraordinary and unrecognisable style of musical squeeze-box features in two songs. Tiny objects, representing an eye and a human finger, are pulled from a bucket. A miniature train makes an epic journey and a giant salmon is filled with the moon and memorabilia.

A sensitive and subtle lighting and set design by Phil Burns completes the picture.

Scollay grabs us in the first moment and holds our attention for fifty minutes. She has a sweet singing voice and manages to people the stage with characters in this engaging and joyful tale.

By Kate Herbert

The Singing Forest, Feb 11, 2001

 by Julia Britton

at Theatreworks from February 10 (no closing date), 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Auschwitz is not unknown to us. We see documentary footage of the bodies, furnaces, gas chambers, graves and sheds in which Jews, Gypsies, Poles and other enemies of the Third Reich were incarcerated and murdered.

The real footage is horrific. To attempt to replay that horror on stage in the theatre is courageous and nigh impossible.

What makes The Singing Forest fail in this attempt is the expository writing of Julia Britton and the graphic violence shown in scenes by director Robert Chuter. We become desensitised to the violence by the constant beatings, rapes and violations of prisoners in a semi-realistic manner.

The repetition, in both dialogue and monologues, of descriptions of violence similarly inures us to pain. If the writer stopped preaching and telling us how the characters feel rather than showing us, used silence instead of a torrent of words, edited ruthlessly from three hours, we might feel something.

If the director had used theatrical devices, subtlety and suggestions of violence rather than attempting to recreate real beatings, we might have felt more.

 Three central characters, a female Jewish doctor, a homosexual German youth and an Aussie soldier, speak in prolonged monologues between scenes.

There are several strong performances amongst a cast of fortyish that seems to be mostly inexperienced actors. As a German officer, Peter Heward finds a balance between compassion and brutality. 

John Morris is credible as the Aussie digger. Jenny Lovell is the only actor who makes the monologues work. As the Jewish doctor assisting Mengele in his awful experiments on children and twins, she is warm and believable.

The relationship between her and her fellow  prisoner-doctor, (Carmen Warrington) is filled with sadness and human compassion.

Playing Heinz, the German homosexual, Jonathan Kovac shows promise.  John Tarrant as the murderous Dr Mengele, plays low-key villainy which could work if he were audible.

The structure of the play is clumsy. The three stories need editing and more complex linking. The entire first half hour could be eliminated by starting at the Auschwitz station. Any information could be incorporated into dialogue.

The too numerous scene changes involve unnecessary movement of furniture which is covered, but not excused, by music. Too many short scenes are not compensated for by those that are too long such as that in which three men hoist bodies into the furnaces of the crematorium.

Kate Herbert

Lest We Forget, Feb 10, 2001

t by Rod Quantock Trades Hall until March 3, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Rod Quantock was at the S11 demonstration at Crown Casino on September 11 , 2000. He was also a victim of the baton charge by the police that day.

In his new show, Lest We Forget, Quantock is doing his bit for the State Government inquiry into the police violence. On February 28, the Steve Bracks, will hand down the findings of Mr. Perry, Victorian Ombudsman.

Quantock's shows are never simply stand-up. In fact, initially he looks like doing a "kneel-down" show with a very short microphone.

His material is focussed on the demonstration. Usually the shows are very low-tech using chalk and blackboard. He graduates to VHS video footage of the demonstration and some odd props including a gas barbecue that was to cook up some honey and beef snags for us just like Brack's barbie for the coppers after the demo.

His rambling commentary and deceptively silly detours from the topic cannot disguise his disgust at the behaviour of the police and Bracks who he now calls "Jeff Bracks", to condemn Steve with the name of Quantock's former nemesis, Jeff Kennett.

He manages to find jokes about the young demonstrators mangling a John Farnham song, about fresh-faced policemen playing badminton with their batons and then illegally ripping off their velcro name tags before charging the demonstrators.

The show lacks the usual frenetic scribbling and detailed political and economic commentary of the previous shows about Kennett's government amongst other things.

It is funny and disturbing as always. The most distressing images apart from the beatings, are the internet ads for batons and baton beating techniques.

The material could be enhanced by further details about the World Economic Forum, globalisation and the reasons these kids were demonstrating in the first place. Many of the audience were ignorant of the specifics.

There must be plenty of gags to be had from the image of tetchy international delegates scuttling from the casino in limos and hiding in hotel rooms to avoid children with a few marbles to toss at them.

Quantock is our smart comedian and even if you disagreed with the S11 protest or thought the demonstrators were a bunch of scruffy feral drop-outs, you might find this enlightening - and maybe score a snag into the bargain.

Keep an ear out for the inquiry findings on Feb 28.

By Kate Herbert

It's a Dad Thing! Feb 8, 2001

 at Athenaeum Theatre. From Feb 8, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

This is the third incarnation of It's a Dad Thing! and the best by a long shot. Five men tell tales of the highs and lows of being a dad. They range from the hilarious to the poignant and schmaltzy.

Identification theatre hauls in a huge crowd who never go to the theatre. The idea is that out-of-work-artists find a topic with which a large percentage of the community identify - and then they milk it for laughs.

Wogs out of Work did it for the ethnic community. Mum's the Word did it for mums. Now It's a Dad Thing is doing it to modern fatherhood.

The company comprises five comic actors: Geoff Paine and Matthew Green were part of the original group who co-wrote and performed the show in 1999-2000. Joining them on stage and adding new material are Michael Veitch, Brian Nankervis  and James Sherry.

The laughs are frequent as are the groans of recognition. We see the sleep-deprived dad (Paine) painstakingly patting his baby to sleep then stepping on a creaking floorboard. We witness the fathers' class with a midwife like a sergeant-major who scares them into submission.

Veitch performs  a very witty " whingeing father" political speech and Green plays the father waiting patiently for his wife to want to have sex again. There is even dancing and singing.

There are real stories of the newborn baby is distress (Nankervis) and of the house husband who feels inadequate. (Sherry) and of fathers making disastrous mistakes with their babes. The gasps from the audience were audible as Veitch describes his bubs tumbling off the verandah.

One of the most satisfying sketches, both comically and theatrically, is Paine's farewell to his 1963 EH Holden. The other actors create the car as a cool talking, smooth guy in sunglasses. Who could sell it for a family car after all the fine times it gave him?

Kaarin Fairfax's direction is competent although there are still some bumpy patches. Some scenes are uncomfortable. The fathers' building of a playground acts as a link but works only in part.

The shifts into more serious monologues are not always successful. The material needs some culling still and some of the groups scenes feel awkward.

This is a romp for two hours. It will cheer you up and the theatre is air conditioned for a hot night.

By Kate Herbert

Art, MTC, Jan 23, 2001

 by Yasmina Reza Melbourne Theatre Melbourne Theatre Company

at Playhouse, Jan 23 until 24 February, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Don't waste any time. Book your ticket to Art right now - then come back and read this.

Got them? Good. What you are in for is a smart, funny, skilfully written, acted and directed play about friendship and modern art. Yes, it's about the impact of a piece of contemporary painting on the relationships between three Frenchmen.

The translation of Yasmina Reza's ironic and witty French script by Christopher Hampton captures a local tone.

Roger Hodgman keeps the action uncluttered on Shaun Gurton's monastic design. Hodgman cast this perfectly so he can allow his actors their heads. The three look delighted and relaxed on  stage so we run with them.

William McInnes plays Serge, the smug and superior doctor and contemporary cultural elitist who spends 200,000 francs on a canvas by a famous artist. It is the ultimate in controversial 60s Minimalist painting being simply white on white.

As his older friend and ex-mentor, Marc, John Wood is a colourful and culturally conservative provocateur. He is pompous, opinionated, elitist and critical about Serge's painting and even his sanity.

Enter Yvan, played with consummate comic timing by Kim Gyngell. Yvan is tepid, accommodating, less accomplished and educated than the others. His major concerns are with his wedding invitations and the stationery he sells. He is willing to pretend to like the painting to keep the peace.

Writer Yasmina Reza cleverly weaves a sticky web of complex  and hilarious argument, confusion and criticism around these men. Their commonalities are called into question. The values they thought were common are no longer to be presumed. They spar, and spit and scream until it seems that this painting has driven a wedge between them.

The  downward flying juggernaut that is their declining love is fuelled by their need for control, the shifting balance of power between them, their loss of faith, their misunderstanding  and their careless attacks and manipulations of each other.

Reza constantly shifts their alliances and status, sending each to Coventry in turn. Their friendship seems hopeless.

It is extraordinary that she can make a play about people talking about art. It challenges critical theory, deconstruction, satirises the art aficionado and the critic. It demonstrates how the tiniest shift in values or taste can affect friendships. We rely on common values in relationships. Any variation from our expectations can be fatal to friendship.

By Kate Herbert

Dating Joe and Sunset BBQ, Jan 18, 2001

 by Mark Fletcher at Chapel off Chapel until 4 February, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

There are often too many high camp shows in the Midsumma Festival  that represent stereotypical gay characters and themes. Happily, Mark Fletcher's two plays,  Dating Joe and Sunset BBQ, are not of this ilk.

In both plays the issues and characters could be any gender, any sexual preference. The stories are about universal human predicaments involving love, loneliness, loss, secrecy and the rigid expectations of a community that does not understand difference.

Fletcher comes to playwriting from being the CEO of his own successful software company but his writing is intelligent, skilful and complex.

In Dating Joe, we peek into a series of personal  moments in the life of a single 54 year old man. He is at home making a videotape to send to a dating agency. He is anxious, trying to please, to be attractive, to be himself and make a good impression on his unknown and unseen viewers.

Joe is played with great poignancy and empathy by Robert van Mackelberg. He could be any of us as he tries to reveal himself truthfully but continually doubts himself.

Fletcher is the master of the slow reveal. Pieces of the puzzle fall into place to reveal the complex nature of this man, his aversion to sterotypical gayness and his resistance to being pigeon-holed.

How do we find love? How do we meet people and form relatioships when we are not 20-something? How do we find our match when we are funny shaped jigsaw pieces?

Fletcher's dialogue is well-observed, honest and easy. He captures the nuances and complexity of natural thought processes.

Sunset BBQ, directed by Martin Croft, investigates a totally different issue about gayness and prejudice.

Peter Hardy sympathetically and passionately plays a doting dad of a Robbo (Matthew Robinson) who died in a car accident three years before. He is faced by the boy's friend, (Andrew Page) with some unwanted news of his son's secret life and desires.

Robinson is sweet and warm as Robbo while Page has moments of truth.

The simplicity of the staging and direction allow the dialogue to speak for itself. There are some awkward scene changes in both plays but the material is strong.

Don't think about these as 'gay' plays.

By Kate Herbert

Corpus Christi, Jan 17, 2001

by Terrence McNally

Polemic Productions at Athenaeum II until 4 Feb, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

"Look what they did to him!" say the apostles after Jesus is crucified in Terrence McNally's play, Corpus Christi. It is a poignant simple and respectful ending to a play that has caused controversy amongst religious zealots in Melbourne.

The tiny group of demonstrators outside the Athenaeum on opening night included both the conservative Presbyterians and the Prophets of Islam. What they object to is the portrayal of Jesus as having homosexual inclinations.

What they choose to ignore is the fact that this play is clearly written by a profoundly religious man, McNally, who represents Jesus, his disciples, the New Testament and Christian theology in a sympathetic and devout light.

What he does is leap into the 21st century where all kinds of interpretations are made of Christian Ministry, where gays follow the Christian philosophy, attend churches and marry.

This production with thirteen men on stage, is directed with inspiration by Catherine Hill who makes even the inexperienced actors look and sound great. We are introduced to them all as they are baptised into their roles by John the Baptist (Craig McDonald).

The production is seamless with scenes blending one into the other with songs, clever physicalisation and subtle, evocative lighting. (Nick Merrylees)

The script is a Morality Play in the mediaeval style. However, it is set in small town Texas although Hill wisely chooses not to use Texan accents. It might be even better to transpose the references to Australia.

We see Jesus (Lawrence Price) or Joshua as he is called, born and visited by three hilarious Wise Men. He grows up in a hick town attending Pontius Pilate High School. He goes to the prom and - here is the controversial moment - is seduced by Judas who is gay and an adoring and jealous young man. This is Jesus' downfall.

There are several exceptional performers. Daniel Frederiksen plays Thomas but charms the audience as Jimmy Dean/Satan, Patricia Joshua's awkward prom date and other roles. Bruce Langdon charms the audience as Thaddeus the hairdresser, a wise man and the booming patriarchal voice of God.

Andrew Hall as Matthew , the lawyer, is vocally expressive and s Judas, Trent Baker portrays an unhappy, troubled man.

Price finds a simplicity and child-likeness in Joshua that is essential to the narrative. His murder is moving.

Don't be put off by the protesters. This is a deeply religious albeit modern interpretation of Jesus' life.

By Kate Herbert

Man the Balloon, Jan 9, 2001

by Matt Cameron

Melbourne Theatre Company

 at Fairfax Studio, Jan 9 until 10 February, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

The notion of Spontaneous Human Combustion (SHC) is weird and hilarious and Matt Cameron's first full-length play for the MTC, Man the Balloon, captures both elements.

The play, directed stylishly by Simon Phillips, is absurdist rather than realistic so the peculiarities of SHC are milked to the max. The dialogue is crammed with witty references to exploding people, death, God, psycho-analysis and existential crisis. It's amazing how much we can laugh at the awfulness in life.

The balance could tilt further toward the existential to give greater depth but it works as comedy. The second half is the more successful. It is surprising and chaotic whereas the first half, while funny, becomes repetitious with a few too many running gags.

The cast is a great comic ensemble. Jane Turner as Fanny is a comic suburban nightmare housewife. Her dance routine is a highlight as is Christen O'Leary's  welcome Waldo song. The others are a cacophony of mad characters.

Cameron's narrative is set in a small town that is not even on the map and at which the trains never stop. Odd objects fall from the trains to start a new village fad: yo-yos, rubik's cubes, electric scooters.

One day, the butcher's wife, mother of Elliott Schmelliot (Luke Elliot) explodes in flames leaving only her stumpy legs smoking in the grey Victorian town square. (designer Shaun Gurton) Day by day more individuals combust.

The entire church boys' choir blows up during the funeral. It is followed by a parade of exploding comic townspeople.

Hector the misanthropic cafe owner, (Francis Greenslade) leads the flammable community then the sex-obsessed psychotherapist, (Julie Forsyth the wife-hating florist, (Richard Piper) the over-eating police chief, (Ross Williams) the ambitious mayor (Forsyth), the priest (Greenslade) and Fanny Fry the self-centred socialite. (Turner)

Naive young Elliot, who believes the emptiness and loss of faith  and love in the community are causing the explosions, sends a carrier pigeon for help. The town has tried religion, then analysis. Now, they await the arrival of Waldo, (Piper) a self-help guru who turns out to be a cynical nihilist who cashes in on other people's pain.

By Kate Herbert

Romeo and Juliet, ASC, Jan 7, 2001

by William Shakespeare Australian Shakespeare Company Botanical Gardens, Jan 7, 2001 (summer season- no closing date)

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Theatre and the great outdoors are not always used in the same sentence these days. This is despite the ancient Greek amphitheatres being in the open air and Shakespeare's Elizabethan theatres being roofless.

Glenn Elston's Australian Shakespeare Company returns theatre to the outdoors and takes advantage of the splendour of our Botanical Gardens. This year we see a return of Romeo and Juliet, that tale of teenage love gone wrong.

The environment  is gorgeous and the simplicity of the staging  and dramatic lighting allow the natural beauty to be focal. The eccentric buildings and huge palm trees create the backdrop for Verona, home of the feuding Montagues and the Capulets.

This space, of course, is not designed for viewing theatre so there are some problems with seeing and hearing. Audience is quite a distance from the stage so voices are body miked and Elston and co-director Phil Sumner, make the action huge and almost pantomimic.

There are some very fine performances from the seasoned performers in the cast while others struggle with the complex and poetic text and vocal demands.

As Romeo Hugh Sexton is is sexy and almost Errol Flynn-like as he swashbuckles and emotes. As his Juliet, Jacinta Stapleton is less successful although she finds an attractive ingenuous adolescent quality in Juliet.

 She is unable to sustain the role vocally and her lack of stage experience is obvious. Shakespeare is too demanding a place to start if moving from television acting (Neighbours) to theatre.

Kevin Hopkins plays a fine Mercutio. He is athletic, funny and credible as the feisty cousin and playfellow of the lovelorn Romeo.

Brendan O'Connor as Tybalt, is a strong presence and muscular foil to Mercutio.

Phil Sumner plays a very satisfying Friar while Michael Bishop and Briony Williams provide substance as Juliet's parents. Dennis Coard is charming as Romeo's father but is seen too little.

The ambient music is excellent, (uncredited) combining the flavour of both Elizabethan and contemporary rhythms.

Take a picnic and the family. Watch for the fruit bats and night birds who can steal the show. It is a fun evening under the stars.

By Kate Herbert

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Bot Gardens, Jan 6, 2001

 by William Shakespeare

 EHJ Productions at Botanical Gardens (enter Gate F Birdwood Ave)

 Jan 6 until February 26, 2001

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

When bats start pooping on the actors, you know it's outdoor theatre. A Midsummer Night's Dream is, once again, strutting about under the stars at the Botanical Gardens with a cast comprising actors, stand-up comics - and fruit bats.

Glenn Elston's Shakespeare Under The Stars has become a summer tradition which has now spread to Sydney, Perth and Adelaide. It rivals the productions in Regent's Park in London, Central Park, New York and Golden Gate Park.

After the sexy rock 'n' roll version of Much Ado About Nothing in 1999, Elston, with co-director Phil Sumner, has remounted The Dream. This production is fast-paced and is edited to a snappy two hours. It accentuates the comic, the sexy and the loud. It takes advantage of gorgeous natural surroundings enhanced by Tim Newman's lighting.

The cast, in modern dress, hurl contemporary references, songs, slang and asides into Shakespeare's poetic/comic verse. Elston's casting is far more appropriate than that of the recent Hollywood film, which has Ally McBeal whimpering as Helena.

The story so far: Oberon, the fairy King (Stephen Kearney) is ticked off with Titania, his fairy Queen (Tanya Burne) and sends his personal fairy, Puck (Brendan O'Connor) to find a magical flower to make her fall in love with some monster.

Meanwhile, the aristocracy are thwarted in love, then bewitched and confused by the Fairy King's floral potion. Nearby, six tradesmen prepare a "comical-tragical" play for the Duke's wedding.

The greatest treat of the evening was Kevin Harrington as Bottom, the conceited amateur actor. Harrington is a consummate clown and a skilful Shakespearian actor. his death scene is achingly funny.

The double casting shows the ensemble's versatility. The entire show is built on mistaken identity, slapstick and naughtiness. O'Connor and Kearney pump up the wickedness of Oberon and Puck while Greg Fleet and Will Anderson heighten the blokey sexual competitiveness of Lysander and Demetrius in a playful double act. 

Kate Atkinson is excellent as the addled and abandoned Hermia and Corinne Grant is a fine foil for her as the lanky loser, Helena. Adrian Mulraney, a fine classical actor, is under-used as Philostrate.

This is perfect summer family fare, even on these wintry evenings.

by Kate Herbert

Midnight Mass, Dec 15 , 2000

Midnight Mass

at Trades Hall, December 15 to 23, 2000

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

If you're a lapsed Catholic, Midnight Mass is the Christmas comedy show for you. If you're not and you can tolerate a little obscenity, go along anyway. It's a sacrilegious hoot.

This two hours show is an hour longer than the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass that it parodies and about ten times as funny, depending on the parish priest you have and how much altar wine you can get your hands on.

Picture the Virgin Mary as a foul-mouthed feminist stand-up comic (Andrea Powell) or as a tacky interpretive dancer in a flimsy leotard. (Felicity Menadue)

Imagine the Three Wise Men as Three Wise Queens of the Priscilla kind. (Scott Brennan, Paul McCarthy, Damien Callinan) The choir is a Christian boy band called "Boys' Town".

The parish priest is a brash and opinionated conservative called Father Matey (Lawrence Mooney) and his curate is a newly arrived stereotypical Irishman called Father Cliche. (Damien Callinan)

Even the church has succumbed to commercialism in this instance. The Mass is sponsored by Fosters beer and Flag Motels. The priests even wear Victoria Bitter labels on their cassocks.

The Mass follows the sequence of a real service but, within its structure, we experience a mad collection of disparate sketches. There is a clever TV game show called "Who's Sorry Now" based around local sinners confessing their mortal and venial sins on public television.

Parishioners are auditioned for the Nativity Play. A favourite is Gove, the sad-sack whose wife left him. His audition piece is an excerpt from his psychodrama therapy.

The rebel faction CARDY (Christians Against Repressing Deep Yearnings) comprising the dorkiest of the congregation, take the Baby Jesus hostage before the nativity play until their demands are met.

The performances are strong and the whole is held together by the two priests, Callinan and Mooney. A cavalcade of characters are played by the other cast members.

The show could benefit from a hefty edit. There are some scenes that just slow it down unnecessarily but it is hilarious Chrissie fare. They even have Holy Cards of themselves depicted as saints to swap with your mates.

By Kate Herbert

Melbourne Theatre Wrap Up 2000, Dec 11, 2000

THEATRE WRAP UP 2000

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

The millennium year was a good one for theatre with a few corkers in both fringe and main stage. Small companies may have disappeared off the face of the earth with government funding cuts over the past few years, but projects and cooperatives are still going strong.

Two Australian shows were highlights this year was A Beautiful Life  by Brisbaneís Matrix Theatre,  a poignant, beautifully written and realised production based on a true story of an Iranian immigrant arrested for terrorism in Canberra. The Theft of Sita, one of the few shows to travel from Adelaide Festival to Melbourne, was a startling combination of traditional Indonesian and contemporary Australian art.

The Melbourne Theatre Company had a critical and artistic success in Hannie Raysonís Life After George. The Chairs, The Unexpected Man  and The Beauty Queen of Leenane were all fine examples of local productions of overseas plays.

What we need now is more support for the development of local product and new work to the same level. We need scripts that have been tried and edited and developed before they hit the mainstage. 

There were several outstanding individual performances. Julia Blake in Life after George, was luminous.  Brian Lipson in A Large Attendance in the Antechamber, demonstrated his comic genius. John Gaden was powerful in The Unexpected Man and Paul Blackwell and Julie Forsyth were hilarious in The Chairs.

 In Quartet, a little La Mama late show, Susan Bamford was magnificent and outrageous as the French countess. Jim Daly was a juggernaut in The Procedure. Bob Downe, wins accolades as the funniest man on the planet.

The fringe scene had several hot properties although none of them were locally written.  Laurence Strangioís Portrait of Dora about Freudís patient, was a superb piece. The eccentric show, Happy 1000, used Australian sign language, English and Indonesian. In the Fringe Festival, The Good Thief, had strong acting and exceptional direction while Crave and Canít Stand Up for Falling Down were well-acted and written, albeit tragic plays. The music theatre parody, Forbidden Broadway, was also hilarious.

Playbox had a mixed year. Meat Party was theatrically their most interesting and innovative play. The Goldberg Variations and Sweet Road were disappointing but Crazy Brave had its moments. The Inside 2000 season of short plays by new writers had a good ensemble but the plays were limited.

The commercial stage was confused and uninteresting.  Carmen was more glitz than substance. In the musical genre, Sound of Music never quite made the grade and Fame was more like a TV show on stage.

There were a couple of lowlights over the year. The Watch in the Window was a long night in the theatre as was Escape from the Living Dead. But the ultimate excruciating show award must go to the farce, Donít Dress for Dinner, a distressingly unfunny night at Crown Ballroom.

La Mama continues to produce more plays than any company and to save many artists from depression, insecurity and underemployment. A new venue, The Storeroom, produced shows above a pub in Fitzroy.

Chapel off Chapel and North Melbourne Town Hall provide venues for many new works while The Black Box at the Arts Centre is highlighting the fringe. Non-theatre spaces are being used: a Backpackers hotel, 3RRR, Sunbury Jail, Ripponlea and old Mechanicsí Institutes.

We no longer have shows in smash repair garages but who know? 2001 might be the year of the cheap alternative venue again, given nobody has much funding.

By Kate Herbert

Harry's Christmas by Steven Berkoff & Fathers by Louis Milutinovic, Dec 7, 2000

at La Mama, Dec  7 to 17, 2000

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

 Fathers is a short play written by Louis Milutinovic during the NATO bombing in 1999, his first year in Australia. It has striking moments, moving themes and some slick dialogue. This is a fine piece on which La Mama ends its year.

It is an abstract play that takes the relationships between fathers and sons into the afterlife. We realise this only after the initial scenes. Milan Petrovich, (John Flaus) an ageing father, searches the Serbian battlefields for his lost son, Ivan. (Gary Abrahams)

What he finds is three men all called Ivan Petrovich, all soldiers, all related to him, all dead on the battlefield. He too is dead.

There are echoes of Sartre's No Exit which has a group of mismatched and angry people in a room together. Milutinovic's men are also confused about their fate. Slowly their relationships are revealed. Deda (Paul Hooper) is actually Milan's grandfather who died young. The Communist partisan (Scott Gooding) is Deda's son and Milan's uncle.

"It is hard being Serbian - but beautiful," quips the grandfather. Milutinovic writes potent dialogue and an intriguing narrative which resonates with the anguish of a war-torn and troubled nation.

The play could have been longer. It is good leaving an audience wanting more. The only problem was the introduction, in the final minutes, of the women searching for their men. It was melodramatic and unnecessary for the drama.

Harry's Christmas was written by the extraordinary English actor/writer/director, Steven Berkoff. This production, directed by Wendy Joseph, is performed by Kiran D'Costa.

D'Costa simply does not have the acting skill to tackle this role. It is too complex and the intricacies of the text and character are buried in this production.

Berkoff is a versatile and charismatic actor who wrote his own material to highlight his exceptional physical and vocal skill. This script for one actor playing Harry, is a beautifully written study of a disturbed and lonely man as he faces the emotional black hole of Christmas.

Harry tilts from faked joy and faint hope to despair when he can find no old girlfriend to join him for a drink. He is a prime example of the dysfunctional urban suicidal male. Harry is not a role for an amateur actor.

By Kate Herbert

Collected Stories, MTC, Dec 6, 2000

Collected Stories by Donald Margulies

MTC presents Northside Theatre Company at Fairfax Studio  until 30 September

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

To see two charismatic performers on stage together is theatrical bliss. Ruth Cracknell and Sarah Norris are such a duo in Collected Stories by Donald Margulies.

Margulies' play is also a winner. In a naturalistic style, the US playwright creates a spring-autumn relationship between two women, both fiction writers, both spirited, wilful, sensitive and volatile.

Lisa Morrison (Norris) is a clever but dizzy post-graduate student of Prof. Ruth Steiner, (Cracknell) a short story writer of some renown. During 1993, in  a state of anxiety about meeting her heroine, the wide-eyed Lisa visits Ruth's Greenwich Village apartment for a private writing tutorial.

So begins a seen year friendship which begins as a mentor-student relationship but blossoms into a friendship between equals when Lisa publishes her collected stories.

However, love of any kind can be a bumpy ride. Writers are sensitive and sensitised. They also have a nose for a good yarn and are inclined to plunder not only their own lives but those of friends and family for material.

When Lisa uses in her novel, Ruth's confidential anecdotes  about her youthful love affair with the poet, Delmore Schwartz, Ruth sees it as a betrayal, Lisa as a homage.

Margulies captures the heightened experience of the writer and the delicacy of feeling that accompanies the writing process. Even in her ailing winter years, Ruth feels wounded and jealous of her protege. Writers are the repository of human feeling. They give a voice to the world.

Margulies writes brisk, witty dialogue that exposes and expands his two characters. Their burgeoning friendship is fascinating and its impending doom rivetting.

Both performances are potent and delightful.  Cracknell is stately, recalcitrant and lovable as the intellectual mentor. Her presence, as always, is commanding and she brings a fine sense of irony to the character.

Norris sparkles in early scenes as the exuberant, nervous and cat-like Lisa. She gives a convincing portrayal of a young woman maturing over years.

Director, Jennifer Hagan, focuses on the intimacy and intensity of these two women. She sets the action in Wendy Osmond's realistic apartment which is stacked with books. Sarah de Jong's evocative music highlights the relationship and provides a subtle background of the streets of New York.

By Kate Herbert

Art and Soul, MTC, Dec 2000

Melbourne Theatre Company

Fairfax Studio until December 16, 2000

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

New work can be exciting and innovative or incomplete and confused. There is some of both in the MTC program of seven short plays, Art and Soul, directed by Kate Cherry and Peter Houghton.

Writers whose work has not been seen at the MTC were invited to write a play stimulated by Homage to Rembrandt, a recent painting by Garry Shead , winner of the 1993 Archibald Prize.

By far the most successful of the seven selected works is Matt Cameron's Whispering Death . Cameron takes less literally than some of the other writers, the pre-requisite "to reflect in some way the configuration of the painting".

Zed (Kim Gyngell) is delightful as a filing clerk made redundant. His dream-like journey into weirdness, is an alphabetical rhyme-fest. He meets Oblivion, Paranoia, Quietude, Regret and so on through the ABC.

The writing is witty and ironic, clever and often hilarious. The performers (Louise Siverson, Genevieve Morris, Ben Rogan, Kate Kendall) relish every moment and every wacko character.

Joanna Murray-Smith's Untitled begins very well with Gyngell as a grieving widowed artist who is visited by a woman he thinks is a life model. She is surprised when he demands she take off her clothes.  The dialogue is smart and funny with broad references and lots of surprises. The pay-off - that the woman is an angel come to end his grief- is a good idea but the resolution is not as successful as the beginning.

At Last the Famous Artist is Dead by Tom Wright is wildly funny and absurd. A bunch of peculiar characters wait drinking tea for the famous artist (Robert Essex) to die. Wright wittily takes a few swipes at Sydney's superficiality and at Melbourne's glut of middle-class artists and at the entire art-loving world for celebrating a prize-winning painter who is, in fact, blind. Essex's mad diatribe as the painter is splendid.

Aidan Fennessy's The Slaughterhouse,  first on the bill, has merit but does not challenge the issues of the artist. Melissa Reeves' Ray's Painting is given a jaunty ride by a naked, playful and romping Louise Siverson.

Glenn Shea's Masterpiece and Tee O'Neill's Homage to Rembrandt are the least successful.

The concept is challenging but a theme does not always stimulate a writer's best work. A night of seven plays is too long. Five pieces at two hours would be a happier length.

By Kate Herbert