Talking Heads by Alan Bennett, Maggie Smith & Margaret Tyzack, May 5, 2004

Talking Heads by Alan Bennett 
With Maggie Smith & Margaret Tyzack 

Her Majesty's Theatre, Melbourne, May 4 to 16. 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on May 5, 2004

To see, in the flesh, virtuoso actors, Maggie Smith and Margaret Tyzack, is to peek through the gates of theatre heaven.

They appear here in two monologues from Talking Heads, written for English television in 1987 by the irreverent and masterly Alan Bennett. Bennett writes incisively with piquancy and shrewdness, allowing these accomplished and distinguished artists to conjure comical and moving portraits of two ordinary women in crisis.

Both characters are painfully unaware of crucial details in their predicament. Both have a wry eye on the world around them. Each is seen in her home environment and each becomes increasingly uncomfortable for differing reasons. In both plays, vivid off-stage characters play significant roles in the characters' journeys.

Tyzack is warm and compelling in Soldiering On, a poignant monologue about Muriel, a stoic and initially wealthy widow.

The competent, socially active Muriel is dealing with the aftermath of her husband's death. Muriel relates the entire funeral coolly, as if it were a Country Women's Association afternoon tea. Bennett presents Muriel's escalating disaster in several scenes. All too quickly, her circumstances alter dramatically but Muriel 'soldiers on'.

She manages her mentally ill daughter with a tablet here and there and naively accepts her son ruining her financially. Finally, she is reduced to living in a bed-sit outside town.

Tyzack gives Muriel dignity, determination and warmth. Although she cannot bear to be seen as tragic, we feel for her the frustration and rage to which she refuses succumb.

Maggie Smith is delectable as Susan, a tipsy vicar's wife, in A Bed Among the Lentils. Bennett's wicked humour about churchgoers and Jesus is a gift for Smith. She plays Susan with a wry and laconic eye on the fawning women who flutter around her holier-than-thou husband, Geoffrey.

This is a consummate performance with impeccable comic timing. Smith perches on a kitchen chair, sipping sherry secretly from a mug all the long and arduous day.

She is incarcerated in a dusty, sexless marriage to a self-absorbed man and she is incapable of playing the role of vicar's wife. Her flower arranging is messy and her cooking forgettable. But her silent observations of her husband and his churchy followers, are acerbic and hilariously accurate. Susan delicately and drunkenly verbally vivisects the parishioners.

These actors breathe air into Bennett's skilful words. See this.

LOOK FOR: Maggie Smith's impeccable comic timing.

By Kate Herbert

Traitors by Stephen Sewell, May 2, 2004

Traitors by Stephen Sewell

 La Mama, Courthouse Theatre, 2 to  15 May, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on may 2

We could be forgiven for thinking Stephen Sewell's 1979 work, Traitors, a play of the new millenium.

Although it is set in the 20s in Post-Revolutionary Russia during Stalin's reign, its political themes are relevant today. What makes it most obviously a play of the 70s is its didactic quality. The script is laden with information about the revolution, Communism and Stalin's brutal regime. At times it feels like a lesson in Russian history.

The content has a great deal in common with Sewell's 2003 play, Myth, Propaganda and Disaster in Nazi Germany that dealt with paranoia about terrorism in the USA, post September 11. The majority of the play is during 1927 with prologue and epilogue in 1941.

 Anna (Daniela Farinacci) travels from Moscow where she is a Party member opposed to Stalin's regime. In Leningrad she meets with Rubin (Jay Bowen) to form a faction combining Oppositionists in both cities. She justifiably suspects spies everywhere.

On her return train journey to Moscow, she begins a sordid, secretive affair with Krasin, (OK) (Neil Pigot) who, unbeknowns to Anna, is an Army Officer for the Party.

Krasin, is appalled by the escalating violence of Stalin's regime since his six month absence in London. Party officials are murdered, oppositionists tortured and demonstrators gunned down. If he does not toe the party line, he too will be suspect.

Melanie Beddie directs this 25^th anniversary production of the play with great sensitivity and style. She focuses on the story and performances. She links scenes seamlessly with inventive, simple and unobtrusive scene changes.

Farinacci is both passionate and vulnerable as Anna. Neil Pigot strikes an impeccable balance between wit, warmth, moral dilemma and violence as the besieged Krasin.

Bruce Myles makes credible the immoral pragmatism of Lebeshev, Krasin's superior officer. Ming-Zhu Hii, Beth Child and Jay Bowen are very strong in support roles.

Kathryn Sproul's stark design accentuates the chilling environment and is lit atmospherically by Daniel Zika.

Sometimes, the weight of off-stage characters, historical facts and political philosophy is overwhelming. However, the story is compelling and the horror of the Stalinist period is highlighted in an intimate narrative.

LOOK FOR: Backlit portraits of Russian Communist leaders in the design.

By Kate Herbert

The Frail Man by Anthony Crowley , Playbox, April 28, 2004

The Frail Man by Anthony Crowley 

Playbox Theatre

 Merlin Theatre, CUB Malthouse, April 28 to  15 May, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

The Frail Man, by Anthony Crowley, is an ambitious play with many interesting ideas that are not fully realised in the script.

This premiere production succeeds in great part because of its fine acting ensemble, director (Aubrey Mellor) and creative team.

Crowley makes a commendable attempt to explore notions of denial in the Australian psyche.

We consistently avoid confronting issues of refugees, aboriginality and disability and we will suffer for this cowardice, the play suggests.

Stephen Saken (Paul Bishop) CEO of a major corporation is struck down with a mysterious and aggressive illness.

Meanwhile, he plans a merger with an Asian company, loses then wins seven million dollars while gambling with his wealthiest shareholder. (Tim Robertson)

Saken immediately and incomprehensibly donates the lot to his mate at the local church.

He is then accused of witnessing the murder of a Muslim woman outside his house and taking no action.

Awkwardly woven through this contemporary tale are two 18^th century convicts (Colin Moody, James Brennan) later revealed as the precursors to the modern Ugly Anglo-Australian.

Their names, Gristlefuck and Cockwit are grotesque and Dickensian. Other characters also go my names reflecting their characters: Frost, Steel, Frail.

Shaun Gurton's stark, clinical design is suitably claustrophobic and Paul Jackson's lighting atmospheric and inventive.

Bishop is superb as Saken. His presence is compelling and his character credible.

Robertson is delightfully malevolent as the rapacious Arnold Frost and Sue Jones revels in her performance as the heartless Chairperson, Jennifer Steel.

There were other strong performances from Margaret Harvey as the cop, James Saunders as her disabled husband and Nikki Coghill as Saken's supportive wife.

Brennan and Moody are both dangerous and comical as the two convicts.

The metaphors in the play seem over-simplified and the script often confusing, cluttered with three unsatisfactorily linked story lines.

The CEO's mysterious fatal illness is finally revealed as a metaphor for the malaise in our culture and our denial of the Muslim world, refugees and other social ills. So many issues are jammed into this story that it is difficult to discern its intention.

The problem is generally that Crowley's dialogue is unconvincing and characters are not three-dimensional. The play is like a parable but it lacks clarity.

LOOK FOR: Tim Robertson's beautifully underplayed detective, Henry Frail.

By Kate Herbert

3 Headed Dog, April 21, 2004

  3 Headed Dog 
by 3 Headed Dog 

 Theatreworks, April 21 to May 1, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

3 Headed Dog is the name of a collective of performers and their first program of short works. All three pieces are charming, inventive and poignant.

Homebody, by Kate Hunter, directed by Merophie Carr,  portrays an exuberant, engaging physical clown. Hunter, dressed in a floral frock, pinny and cap, resembles a timid servant from Gosford Park.

Her entire piece involves a quirky, jerky little character setting up house. She carries, drags, pushes and wheels all sizes and shapes of suitcases. The cases become her little home. As she fusses and arranges them, she opens several to reveal not only her silky white undies and nighties, but entire rooms.

Inside one is a bed, another a bathroom and toilet and then the appliances and decorations start to appear: a broom, flowers, telephone, a soft toy for the bed.

Hunter's physical work is joyfully reminiscent of the French school of comic character.

David Wells uses both dialogue and contemporary dance in Corridor, a compelling examination of his visit to a hospital corridor. He accompanies his abstract movement with self-narration about his father's near fatal operation in a room at the end of a long corridor.

His verbal version of the story is inter-cut with his inventive physical interpretation of the same actions. Wells cues the music on and off at will with a brisk gesture to his technician.

After a sweet and funny beginning that explores the history, shape and line of the corridor, Wells takes us to a more sensitive place. He recalls the family pet, conversations with his father ad finally the dreadful and painful moment when a doctor walks down the corridor bringing bad news.

The last work. Lost in Tokyo, by Jo Davidson and Fiona Roake is perhaps the least successful theatrically albeit charming. Roake plays ukulele, electric bass, drum. They sing peculiar, amusing songs and Davidson relates poetic stories.

The high point is when two suitcases reveal shadow screens concealed inside their lids. The ensuing miniature shadow puppet piece is clever and enchanting.

LOOK FOR: Roake's bedroom and bathroom in a suitcase.

By Kate Herbert

Urinetown , MTC, April 17, 2004

Urinetown 

Music and Lyrics by Mark Hollmann, Book and Lyrics by Greg Kotis

by Melbourne Theatre Company

Playhouse, Victorian Arts Centre,  17 April to 15 May, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on 17 April

 Simon Phillips directs a cheeky, irreverent and funny production of the bladder-teasing Broadway musical hit, Urinetown.

The ensemble is skilful and adorable, the band exceptional under the musical direction of Ian McDonald and the whole is a cute parody of Broadway musicals.

During a drought, the water table is so low it is illegal to flush toilets.Caldwell B. Cladwell, (Gerry Connolly) a ruthless businessman, makes millions by compelling people to pay to use public conveniences on pain of exile.

After his father's exile to the grim, unknown Urinetown, heroic young Bobby Strong, (Kane Alexander) leads the rebellion to pee without paying. The obligatory musical romance is between Bobby and Hope, (Lisa McCune) the painfully optimistic daughter of villainous Cladwell.

Urinetown is a light-hearted, satirical jibe at government corruption and corporate greed. Nothing is taken too seriously. The vulgar title is meant to offend but the show is surprisingly inoffensive. This explains its huge Broadway success. Urinetown is stuffed full of blatant references to musical styles.

The opening number, It's a Privilege to Pee,  is pure Kurt Weil. The rebellion of the townspeople (should that be 'pee-ple'?) is a rip-off of Les Mis. There are echoes of West Side Story, Yiddish Klezmer music and a rousing gospel number, Run Freedom Run. The show constantly reminds us we are watching a musical.

Narrator, Officer Lockstock played with laconic wit by Shane Bourne, intermittently pre-empts the action with a wry aside.  He heartlessly convinces naïve Little Sally (Christen O'Leary) it is not a happy musical. Alexander has a powerful voice and compelling presence and McCune is the ideal sugar-sweet optimist.

Connolly is a wild, nutty villain and Rhonda Burchmore is raunchy as Miss Pennywise, the keeper of the loos. O'Leary is masterly as Little Sally and Mitchell Butel appropriately weaselly as McQueen.

Given the shows opened the same night, comparisons with The Producers are unavoidable but perhaps unfair. Who can compete with the comic genius of Mel Brooks and his unforgettable songs?

Urinetown has clever lyrics, jaunty music and an eccentric idea but the music, lyrics and book are not memorable like other musical hits.

This diverting production is beautifully directed and exuberantly performed.

LOOK FOR: The gospel chorus of Run Freedom Run.

By Kate Herbert

The Ideas Men by Ridiculusmus, April 1, 2004 *****

The Ideas Men by Ridiculusmus

Melbourne Comedy Festival 

Fairfax Studio, Arts Centre,  1 to 18 April, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Stars: *****

Ridiculusmus make me ache with astonishment each time I see them. Their lateral view on language, comedy and human nature is inspired.

David Woods ( and John Hough bring a welcome breath of imagination and theatricality to a Comedy Festival dominated by predictable stand up comedy.

The Ideas Men differs from the English duo's previous show, Say Nothing but it has the same compelling characterisation and leaps of logic.

Say Nothing dealt with the insanity of the Northern Ireland conflict.

The Ideas Men is a satire on overpaid corporate ninnies who construct seminars about nothing much - from even less.

Liam Brady (Hough) and Mike Mullet (Woods) are two idiotic ideas executives who are brainstorming plans for "a creativity role play seminar".

Not only do Liam and Mike have no ideas, they have no skills, no plan or strategy, no outcomes and even less hope.

Their day begins at nine with a rambling discussion about when and where to have lunch.

What follows is a desperate scrambling for creative outcomes - that one great idea that will break through all others.

What is fascinating is the total immersion of the pair in these mad characters. Mike (Woods) is an insecure, ineffectual man with scruffy hair, an irritating voice and bad breath.

Liam (Hough) is a reserved, critical and occasionally weepy little man. He plays with his Lego blocks as if his life depended on them and attacks Mike at random with personal slights.

Mike and Liam, in their desperate attempt to role play their way to a new idea, shift into other characters who may or may not exist in their corporate world.

They both role play Sue, their mythical secretary, who has a pronounced limp and tries to seduce both of them.

John McLouchlin is their oily boss who slides in irregularly looking for a product.

It is a fascinating and complex piece of absurd theatre.

 Hough and Woods confuse us by interrupting Liam and Mike's role play reality.  We are never certain whether the trouble Liam and Mike get into is real.

In Say Nothing, they performed standing on a suitcase for one hour. Here they ere either seated at two ends of a huge desk or galloping  around the entire Fairfax Studio.

The Ideas Men is unpredictable, crazy, intelligent, inventive and hilarious. Ridiculusmus is a jewel in the Comedy Festival.

LOOK FOR: Mike's brutal attack on his computer keyboard.

By Kate Herbert

72 HOur Mime Project, March 24, 2004

The 72 Hour Mime Project  

by Jason Lehane and Danny Diesendorf

 Store Room, 22 March to 11 April, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

You will be pleased to know that the 72 Hour Mime Project runs just one hour. As one character quips, "No-one can stand more than three hours of mime."

There are the seeds of a clever parody in this show. It has two engaging actors (Jason Lehane, Danny Diesendorf) and several charming moments but at present it feels unfinished and rambling.

The highlights are the parodies of mime artists. The pair argues about the details of their mime. Is it a sheet writing paper they mime or a flimsy tissue paper?

What is a genuine and truthful mime response to being shot by a machine gun or a pistol? My favourite mime moment was when the villain Count Fritz Malzorius, (Diesendorf) wields a real sword and Lehane defends himself valiantly with a clanking mime sword.

The story works in two time periods. In 1884, Gilbert Lehane, once a famous Shakespearian actor, is reduced to appearing as a human slug in a sideshow.

It appears he has sold his soul for a kitbag of ancient mime tricks and he now flees Malzorius.

When he falls through the fifth dimensional mime world, The Mime-trix, (Get it? Matrix?) his world collides with his young ancestor, ,Lehane, in 2004.

Lehane and Diesendorf are struggling to create a new piece of theatre and finally decide in desperation upon Gilbert's own recipe for theatre, The 71 Hour Mime Project.

They go where no mime artist ever treads by extending it to a dangerous 72 hours.

Each idea in the piece has merit but needs some editing or reframing to reach its full potential.

The opening and closing scenes are the most compelling.

 At the beginning, Gilbert, in his slug suit, battles the evil Count. It looks as if it will be a Faustian story about selling one's soul to the devil x but we are disappointed.

The scenes about these two unpaid professionals ("We are not amateurs.") devising a show are too long, although the silly drama exercises are funny.

When they reach the final prolonged mime, the joy of intentionally clumsy mime is finally delivered.

LOOK FOR: The fight between real and mime sword.

By Kate Herbert

All's Well That Ends, Dir. Suzanne Kirsten, April 18, 2004

All's Well That Ends 

 Directed by Suzanne Kirsten

 March 18, 2004

 Well, Well, Well. All's Well That Ends - well, in total confusion really.

This production of Shakespeare's play, directed by Suzanne Kersten, incorporates eclectic styles, language, periods and music. The collision of styles can be compelling and entertaining in new theatre making. Each component enhancing or informing another. Or, it can just be a nasty muddle.

In this production the intersection of Shakespearian text with popular culture and language is incoherent and lacks cohesion. The play, All's Well That Ends Well, is almost irrelevant. The cast is an energetic and youthful group totally committed to the concept.

The narrative is roughly as follows: The rampant clubber,  Belinda  (Clair Korobacz ) is compelled by the disease-riddled Queen  (Deanne Eccles) to marry the despondent Herman. (Paul Moir) as a reward for Herman's curing the Queen's illness. A narrator, La Feu (Fleur Dean) provides information about characters and style.

The royal court is transformed into a raunchy club environment. The young women compete in "The Body Fest Competition" which is essentially an erotic dance competition in the style of live sex shows.

 Not every experiment in the rehearsal room should be included in the performance. There are long - too long - scenes of solo or group dancing that interrupt the flow of story and add nothing to the concept. Gender roles from the original text are swapped. The women are rough and sexist with their multiple sexual partners.

The links between scenes are clumsy with long gaps as we wait for performers to move over a rather noisy set of platforms to a new position.

Many of the contemporary references and images are cheap parodies. The Queen's Throne is a toilet. A giant, inflatable penis is a sex toy in the dancing.

The performers are awkward in the scenes from Shakespeare, having difficulty connecting truthfully to the Shakespearian language. They are all far more at home with the club land dancing. The entire piece is intended to sexualise Shakespeare but it is not in the slightest sexy. It is, rather, narcissistic, self-indulgent and poorly executed.

Perhaps they should leave the bard alone next time.

By Kate Herbert

The Slippery Slope by Merrilee Moss, 17 March, 2004

 The Slippery Slope by Merrilee Moss 

Women on a Shoestring

 La Mama, 17 March to 28 March, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on 17 March, 2004

Ageing is never an easy ride but, for the hippy children of the 60s, it is a slippery slope.

 Playwright, Merrilee Moss, portrays three friends over sixty who spent the 1960s travelling the hippy trail together through Europe and Asia.

It is Caroline's (Chrissie Shaw) 60^th birthday party at her beachside haven.

Despite years of separation, Robert (Peter Green) and Susan (Camilla Blunden) are the only guests invited - apart from Susan's ex-lover, Drago, who never arrives.

Between the reunion scenes are vignettes from their youthful, dope-smoking travels.

Just watching older actors play young hippies is funny.

In many ways, little has changed in young people. We still see the pretentious, the adventurous, the faux spiritual, the promiscuous, the feminist and the macho.

Although there is no action on stage in either of these scenes, each is amusing. Many will recall the reckless abandon of their hippy youth and others will recognise the fear of ageing.

There are two other modes in the play. The trio plays an elderly singing chorus of rickety lawn bowlers who quote old songs and sing raunchy numbers.

Ageing is also investigated through the eyes of the actors themselves who drop out of character intermittently.

They discuss stage fright, the trickle of acting work, creaky joints and forgetting lines.

The four components sit a little awkwardly together although each is entertaining in its own way.

The performances are often engaging although a little uneven.

Green is amusing as an ex-rogue trying to hang on to his youth. Shaw as the young, ethereal Caroline, is entertaining. Blunden seems more comfortable in the chorus scenes.

Age has changed and wearied all three characters. What we miss is the detail of their lives and the complexities of their reactions to each other, the past, the changes in their relationships.

Robert's Vietnam experience is tossed into the mix quite late and never integrated. Susan's broken marriage is never dealt with and Caroline's middle years are barely mentioned.

Most of the action is off-stage or talked about in the past tense. Even in a memory play there needs to be forward moving action.

This play is part of Senior Citizens' Week and could delight or shock its audience.

LOOK FOR: The trio singing the raunchy number, Root, root, rooty-root.

By Kate Herbert

The Soul Miner by Ray Swann, March 11, 2004

The Soul Miner by Ray Swann 

by Identity Theatre

Where and When: Trades Hall, March 8 to 20, 2004; Frankston Arts Centre, 21-24 April, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert on March 11, 2004

The Soul Miner, written and performed by Ray Swann, is a vibrant, passionate and compelling solo show about a Gallipoli survivor.

Swann, directed by Richard Sallis and Andreas Litras, peoples the stage with vivid characters that flow effortlessly from one to another.

Jim, the central character, Swann first brings him to life in a mining accident after the war. He is trapped in a shaft trying to rescue Alfie,  an injured lad.

Jim tries to distract himself and the lad by recounting comical tales of his army mates.

As he struggles with his panic and incarceration, memories of horrific experiences at Gallipoli flood his mind.

Swann transforms before our eyes, shifting physically and vocally to inhabit another of his creations.

Multiple locations are conjured despite his being alone on an empty stage strewn with sand and with only a torch, a tiny lantern and a foldaway chair.

Swann is an accomplished performer with an engaging presence. He draws these men with great sympathy and intelligence.

Our eyes and hearts travel with him as he transports us to 1914.

We meet Frank, Jim's mischievous, garrulous mate who keeps morale up by telling jokes at the expense of the Kiwis and breaking into the quartermaster's store for cooking plonk.

Jim describes another army pal, young Davo, as a galah. Dave is uncoordinated, slow and good-hearted.

The target of Frank's ridicule is Reverend Beefy Moncrief who attempts to boost the boys' mood with inappropriate quotes from Francis Bacon and Lewis Carroll.

Sallis and Litras keep the action fluid by avoiding scene changes and using only the occasional blackout for dramatic impact. John Panetta's lighting is evocative.

There are particularly powerful images of Swann portraying an entire battalion being mown down on the beaches at Gallipoli.

He ploughs forward with his invisible rifle and bayonet, falls, rises again as another soldier until they all lie fallen.

This is a complex psychological investigation of the distraught mind of a soldier who once again faces his mortality in amine shaft.

LOOK FOR: Jim cradling the injured Frank in his arms on the beach.

By Kate Herbert

Crossing the Bridge by Gaylene Carbis, March 10, 2004

Crossing the Bridge by Gaylene Carbis

La Mama, March 10 to 28, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Crossing the Bridge rests on a common issue facing the children of men who survived the Second World War.

Their fathers were emotionally distant and traumatised by their wartime experiences.

Writer, Gaylene Carbis, is partially successful in representing the impact on both generations.

Don, (Sam Sejavka) travels by train with his partner, Jan, (Samantha Bond) to his elderly parents' home in the middle of nowhere.

The summer heat is oppressive, as is the atmosphere in this dysfunctional family home.

Don has little contact with his very conservative parents,

Alan (Ross Thomson) and Blanche. (Brenda Palmer) They ignore his success as a poet, novelist and psychologist.

Their focus is on his parade of girlfriends, his debt and his wasteful use of their electric fan.

Thompson's portrayal of Alan is both moving and comical.

He captures the frailty of this old digger as well as his stubbornness and dogged refusal to admit fault or brook any change to his daily routine.

Director, Lynne Ellis, stages the play in an unusual configuration with actors sitting and walking amongst the audience. We seem to be right inside this grim little home.

Sejavka seems more comfortable in the later scenes in which he allows us to see Don's more vulnerable side.

Carbis writes some moving and funny passages but has not yet found the balance between the naturalistic dialogue and poetic monologues.

The characters and relationships could benefit from some further development and deepening in the writing.

At present, they all seem to be on one note: Don is negative, Jane is bemused, Blanche is evasive and Alan is recalcitrant

There is great potential in the issue of child abuse triggered by a father's wartime trauma. The problems with the script are that there are no surprises.

When the argument comes to a head the impact is limited because all the family problems have been revealed repeatedly early in the play.

Family crisis and argument always has an illogical flow. However, there needs to be some logic to the characters and their revelations.

The script needs a clearer dramatic arc to the narrative and fuller relationships between characters to realise its full potential.

LOOK FOR: Ross Thompson's stroppy old man.

By Kate Herbert

Kiss them All Soundly by Jason Cavanagh, March 4, 2004

 Kiss Them All Soundly by Jason Cavanagh
Chambers Theatre Company 

Gasworks, from March 4, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

Three nursery rhymes were the stimulus for Kiss Them All Soundly, the first play by Jason Cavanagh.

The play does not enact the rhymes but uses them as a jumping off point for three contemporary tragedies.

The play is successful in part. The most effective scenes are those in which the characters confront, reveal or admit their traumatic past experiences. These scenes have some emotional weight and more substantial narrative and characters.

In Georgie Porgie, George,  (Bill Johnston) an elderly man resting at a bus stop, meets Alice,  (Grace Anderson) a twelve year girl and they become friends.

We have some doubts about her safety, as does she at first. However, eventually she and we realise George is harmless and genuinely friendly.

In the story based on Mary Had a Little Lamb, James (Jason Cavanagh) is concerned about his wife, Mary, (Tamara Searle) who never leaves the house while he is at work. It is clear to us that she lives in a fantasy world in which her baby is still alive.

Simon  (Cavanagh) is caught in a strange world. He remembers nothing of his time immediately before arriving in what we know is a hospital.

He is angry, frustrated, impatient and cannot understand why he cannot leave and, later, why his wife and child do not visit.

The that intersect of these three stories at the end is interesting whereas the opening scenes are abstract, short and sometimes confusing or irritatingly obtuse.

Simon's initial daily conversation with Martin,  (Johnston) his doctor, is repetitive, as is the repeated action between Mary and James.

There are two false endings and three overwritten monologues. Cavanagh attempts to represent grief and trauma that causes mental breakdown. His representation of both is very superficial and the easy solutions to Mary and Simon's psychosis are unlilkely.

The actors often seem uncomfortable in the roles. Director, Jasper Bagg, moves actors between stories and roles. The delineation between the characterisations and the locations is often unclear on the stage.

This is a good effort for a first play but it needs some reworking.

LOOK FOR: The final silent image of the trio on a bus stop bench.

By Kate Herbert

Act One adapted from Moss Hart, March 3, 2004

Act One 

adapted from Moss Hart by Don Mackay  

La Mama at the Courthouse  March 3 to 13, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

An interesting life can be a rich basis for drama.

Writer/director, Don Mackay, based Act One, on American playwright and director, Moss Hart's autobiography of the same name. Simon Russell plays Moss Hart while Simon Mallory appears as almost everybody else.

The play spans 1916 (OK) to 1930 and is set in various American cities and, finally, Broadway. We witness Hart's rise from poverty in the Bronx  to theatre producer's office boy and fledgling playwright. After years writing unsuccessful dramas, in 1930 Hart becomes the darling of Broadway with his first comedy, Once In A Lifetime.

Mackay stops at this point rather than continue with Hart's rollicking success with The Man Who Came To Dinner, and You Can't Take It With You.

The trap with adapting a popular autobiography for stage is the temptation to include too much text and too long a time period.

The agonising development of the final script of Once In A Lifetime is the most compelling part of the play. The earlier period could be edited to give the same information more effectively.

Mackay uses Hart's own colourful narration and descriptions of characters such as George S, Kaufman,  heiress, Mrs. Harris and Moss' Aunt Kate.

Russell makes a meal of his role and skilfully compels us to listen to tracts of description of places and people.

He plays Hart as a bright, magnetic, intense, ambitious young man and drives the play forward with wide-eyed, direct address to audience between many short scenes. He has an uncanny way of making the audience feel he is looking each in the eye. 

 Meanwhile, Mallory sprints about, donning hats, ties, spectacles and feather boas to embody a parade of characters with great comic timing and an engaging presence.

The audience is fascinated not only by the characters but by Mallory's capacity to alter his persona rapidly and frequently. He captures the intense, intelligent and generous George S. Kaufman perfectly. His Mrs. Harris is charming and funny and Harris, the producer, provides a welcome change of rhythm.

Act One is a faithful and entertaining rendering of a fascinating life in the theatre.

LOOK FOR: Russell's hilarious old ham actor.

By Kate Herbert

The Zoo Story by Edward Albee, March 2.2004

The Zoo Story by Edward Albee

 Theatreworks, 14a Acland St. St. Kilda,  March 2 to  13, 2004

Reviewer: Kate Herbert

The Zoo Story is one of celebrated American playwright, Edward Albee's, finest short works.

It is an exploration of maleness, social status and the collision of two unlikely and disparate lives in a park. This production eliminates comfortably the Americanisms of the original and localises the language.

Albee's writing is pithy disturbing and often hilarious. Intelligent, wry cynical and darkly humorous, particularly for the central character, Jerry (Tom Healey).

 Greg Ulfan directs the play with a firm and dramatic hand, maintaining intense dramatic tension through out and focussing on the relationship between the characters.

Healey and Damien Donovan  (Peter)  perform with finesse on a stage that is bare but for a single wooden park bench.

This is an intensely actorly performance infused with passion and poignancy. Healey plays Jerry a peculiar, unstable, homeless transient who has an unexpected power wisdom and awareness.

Jerry accosts Peter who sits reading on a bench in the park on a quiet Sunday. What transpires is like the peeling of an onion or opening a Russian Doll. As Jerry reveals his tormented inner world step by painful step, Peter is drawn further into his orbit.

The stage is Healey's. We are riveted by his character from the moment he appears perched like a creature of prey, peering at Peter and poised for attack. Healey's broad dynamic range and portrayal of Jerry's apparent weirdness and intermittent normality are exceptional. His timing is impeccably. And he gives Jerry great sympathy and a ragged dignity.

An emotional roller coaster reveals the loss of Jerry's parents, his aloneness, his sordid, soulless boarding house and his cryptic visit to the zoo that day.

Donovan is a fine support for Healey and portrays Peter, the stitched up, middle class I.T. executive with a rigid reserve.

His is an ordinary, suburban life with a wife, two girls, two cats and two budgies. His attentiveness to Jerry becomes our attentiveness. We are aware that an accident of fate placed Jerry, not Peter, in the hollow, strange, half-lit world Jerry inhabits. We care about both of these mismatched characters.

Despite our attitude toward Jerry seesawing between fear and sympathy and the escalating conflict between them, we want a happy ending. The Zoo Story is a fine piece of theatre.

LOOK FOR: The finale of Jerry's black dog and burger story.

By Kate Herbert