Equus, Free-Rain Theatre, ACT Hub, 12-22 November

 (photo - Olivia Wenholz)

Peter Shaffer's 1973 play combines a then-modern sex-violence-and-disturbed psychology story with ancient ritual in a dramatic story that ratchets up the tension as we delve deeper into the mind of disturbed teenager Alan Strang with the help of his not-that-much-less-disturbed psychiatrist, Martin Dysart. Dysart narrates at length, exposing the audience to his own professional doubts in the use of his methods as he struggles to bring the truth out of the boy - with every sequence leading up to the shattering final sequence when the horrible act that brought Alan into his care is re-enacted. The strong stylisation of the telling (with a chorus of six actors playing the horses that Alan forms a disturbing relationship with, in masks and platform-shoes that resemble hooves) lets the audience do the necessary transformation in their head and invokes the religious rites that Shaffer's play draws on. 

This production borrows the horse headpieces from Rep's previous 2014 production (reviewed here) but in a number of ways is a very different production - Cate Clelland's design gives it a sense of rings-within-rings as we zero in on Alan's mind going further down the rabbit hole with Dysart. Arran McKenna gives Dysart a sense of self-hating wit, hating his own pedantry and precision even as he keeps on applying it to the world around him, and Shanahan gives us a walled-off Strang, sarcastic and defensive but with a lot of rawness underneath which is revealed as we delve deeper. Sam Thompson as the lead horse, Nugget, has imposing presence enough to explain why he becomes an object of fascination and co-dependance to Alan, with a great stare across the audience. The ensemble works well together to provide live soundscapes (prepared by Crystal Mahon) that bring the ritual into being. 

Anne Somes ties the production together (with contributions from movement director Amy Campbell) with a strongly presentational production that holds the audience compelled til the final blackout. "Equus" is a compelling drama that needs the full physical production of a company of performers tied close together with their audience and Free-Rain's production does exactly that. 

Phar Lap: The Electro-Swing Musical, Hayes theatre company, 17 Oct-22 Nov

 

Image by John McRae

A deeply silly musical, Steven Kramer's "Phar Lap" tells the familiar story of the famous NZ-born horse who became a national phenomenon as one of the great racing horses of all time, in a fast, furious, somewhat ridiculously full-of-horse-puns-nz-accents-and-high-pitched-jockey-voices way. It's a gloriously confident show from opening number (The Race that Stops the Nation) to closing (Heart) - staged by Sheridan Harbridge in the intimate Hayes in a way that combines 1930's swing-era and 2020's dubstep and edge. Joel Granger as the titular horse has pure dopey innocence that warms us to him immediately, and leading most of the plot is Justin Smith as trainer Harry Telford, a confident elder statesman looking after the shy youngster as he emerges into fame and glory. The rest of the ensemble is strong too, from Manon Gunderson Briggs' announcer at the top of the show, through Lincoln Elliot's standoffish brother Nightmarch, Shay Debnney's S&M-tinged Jockey Jim Pike, Amy Hack's mysterious Madame X and Nat Jobe's cynical David Davis, whether in their main roles or swapping into multiple small roles all over the place. 

This is a delight from the moment the show starts to the final bows, and richly deserves the full houses it's been having. If you can't catch it this time, hopefully this will be a long runner, returning to delight audiences all over the place. 

The Pajama Game, Neglected Musicals, Foundry Theatre, 5-8 November

 Neglected Musicals has been presenting shows in a stripped-down format for 15 years in Sydney - most famously, they had a go at "Calamity Jane" in 2016, giving a production that is currently touring in revial again, but also mixes of classic, modern, better-and-lesser known shows that have not had a mainstage revival in a while - in this case, a 70 year old classic dealing with romance against the background of a labour disptue at a pajama (or, to spell it properly, pyjama) factory in Iowa. It's got lots of jokes, lots of memorable songs and a few big dance numbers, and offers some great roles siezed in this performance by the cast. The format (cast carries scripts with them and has one days rehearsal to learn the songs and the choreography with an accompaniment of a sole pianist), allows for a reasonably bare-bones presentation, though clearly in the last 15 years they've learned how to find time to appropriately costume the cast and polish up the choreography a tad.

Certainly by the final matinee the scripts-in-hand were largely formalities, with the performers confident in their roles - leads Zoe Gertz and Drew Weston in particular giving confident, brash, 50's performances completely in style, and strong support from Catty Hamilton as the ditzy Gladys, P Tucker Worley as the tight-wound time and motion man Hines, MacKenzie Dunn as the quippy Mabel and Dean Vince as the clutzily lustful Prez. Director/Choreographer Lisa Callaghan keeps the production flowing on a stage with nothing more than a few chairs here and there, and Michael Tyack musical-directs and plays the score with flourish and verve. 

This is a fine quick-and-dirty format to catch a show you may have missed - while yes, it isn't quite a full production, it's got the cast, the choreography and the costumes in place - only the expanded orchesttrations and the sets are missing and, if this production is any guide, it's a good way to catch a show I've not seen before.  

Meow Meow's The Red Shoes, Belvoir St Theatre with Black Swan State Theatre and Malthouse Theatre, Upstairs theatre Belvoir Street, 4 Oct-9 Nov (and at Malthouse 19 Nov-6 Dec and Black Swan 26 Feb-1 Mar)

 

(image by Brett Boardman)

Meow Meow is an internationally celebrated cabaret performer, who this time is involved with her accomplices in performing an adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen's story of punished desire. But mostly what it's about is thinly controlled chaos, with Meow Meow half tragic figure, half diva, all conquering as she performs song by herself, Radiohead, Paul Anka and Fiona Apple. It starts with three accompaniasts announcing her, surrounding her by three deconstructed pianos and each performing a short note or phrase before the accompaniment moves around her in a sonic and visual feast, delves into her climbing a mountain of junk, before engaging with stories both mythical and personal, occasionally tying in vaguely with the one about the shoes. 

To say the least, this is a long way from a narratively driven show- it's mostly a chance to spend an hour and change in the world of Meow Meow and her strange companions, in a production that is immaculately staged by Kate Champion and designer Dann Barber. It's a rich indulgent chaotic evening that finds beauty and pathos amidst the pathos, whether from Meow Meow or her support team, Kanen Breen, Mark Jones, Dan Witton and Jethro Woodward, who play multiple instruments and sing and play alongside her

The Shiralee, Sydney Theatre Company, Drama Theatre Sydney Opera House, 6 Oct-29Nov

 

(photo by Prudence Upton)

Kate Mulvaney's adaptation of D'arcy Niland's 70 year old novel loses none of its essential qualities - the story of a rough-living man who's impulsive taking of his 9 year old daughter on the road after he discovers her mother in bed with the landlord, and how they find their way towards one another takes essential Australian mythos of solitude and independance and surounds it with the truths of how interdependant the human animal actually is. After adapting two works by Niland's partner, Ruth Park ("Harp in the South Trilogy" and "Playing Beatie Bow"), Mulvaney adapts the road-story into a piece for two actors backed by a six-strong ensemble - Josh McConville absolutely convinces as someone who's lived a long rough life but has deep passions coated with history, and Ziggy Resnick as the daughter is so fresh and innocent, open for anything and taken by sudden whims and surprisingly strong devotions.

The ensemble is full of gems too - from Paul Capsis, performing two roles I'd call Capsis specials (a Kings Cross torch singer and a wandering bush poet), to Mulvaney as two complicated maternal figures, Stephen Anderson playing a mix of threatening and friendly figures, Catherine Van-Davies as a lost love and another that Macauley finds on the road, Lucia Mastrantone and Aaron Pederson as various road eccentrics, they combine as narrators and create a wider world for Macauley and Buster's story to play out on, working in concert with Jessica Arthur's staging on Jeremy Allen's deceptively simple set (adapting to be both wide open plain and gathering places, country stores, byways, inner city slums, workplaces and friend's houses). 

This is a story for the heart first and foremost, about human connection between a parent and a child, raw, strong and powerful. It's funny, incisive and tear-jerking in several places, but it's always honest and true about the people at the centre of the story. 

9 to 5, Queanbeyan Players, The Q, 31 Oct-9 Nov

 

image by photox - Ben

1980's hit movie launched Dolly Parton's acting career with a blam, along with starting Dabney Coleman's career as sneaky jerkwads that occupied most of the rest of the decade, giving Jane Fonda a rare chance to play comedy and a rare chance for Lily Tomlin to play lead. Almost 30 years later it became a Broadway musical, and now, another 15 years later, it's playing locally. The show is distinctly set back in period, including the dreaded Xerox and the early wave of women fulltime in the workplace, taking their grievances at the professional world seriously even as it weaves a fairytale farce around their accidental-then-deliberate revenge on their oppressive boss, Franklin Hart Jr. There would be no point doing the show without Dolly Parton's iconic title song, alas the rest of the score never quite lies up to that level, though there are moments of fun and introspection in the rest of the score, from independent-woman-power ballads like "Shine like the Sun" and "Get Out and Stay Out" to comic cravenness in "Heart to Hart" to a romantic duet on "Let Love Grow". Patricia Resnick's script takes her script of the movie and adjusts it for stage representation, oddly enough increasing the roles of a few of the men (love-interest Joe and son Josh, as far as I remember, never appeared in the movie originally). 

Sarah Hull directs with a brisk energy, particularly in moments of high farce like the hospital sequence, aided by a tightly choreographed cast by Lauren Chapman and a strong band from Jenna Hinton. 

The central trio of performers are gold, from Kate Einsenberg's confident but frustrated Violet who warms to the opportunities the plot gives her to Sarah Copley's initially mousy Judy, blossoming as the shenanigans give her confidence, to the spectacular Sienna Curnow, who takes the Dolly Parton template of Doralee and relishes every hollering, confident moment. Up against them, Steven O'Mara oozes sleeze as the obnoxious Hart, and Shennia Spillane is delightful as his obsequious partner-in-sneakiness, Roz. Dave Collins takes a role that could feel superfluous and makes it necessary by turning his adorability up to 11 - he's endearing whenever he's onstage, and the payoff of his relationship with Violet feels deeply earned. 

Thompson Quan-Wing's set is an adaptable marvel at shifting around the offices of Consolidated Industries and into a few other places too, and Samantha Marcedo's costumes do a great job of feeling period-appropriate without being overly parodic of the period. 

Jacob Acquilina's lighting picks out the areas of the stage well and comes up with good mood combos for the shifts into and out of fantasy, and Telia Jansen's sound hits just the right balance between impact and overwhelming the audience. 

This is a fun show, played with verve and enthusiasm by its cast - it's playful, charming and with just a little bit of heart and soul in the middle to give the pudding some heft to it. 

The Musical of Musicals (the Musical), Everyman Theatre, ACT Hub, 17-25 October

 It's been 12 years since we last joined a quartet of actors and a pianist to tell the same plot 5 times in 5 different styles, and while we have one new actor in Will Collett and a decade's wear and tear means that Jarrad West is now performing Bob Fosse inspired choreography in a knee brace, it's still mostly the show I reviewed back then. It's a more-or-less loving tribute to musical theatre storytelling, in the style of Rogers and Hammerstein, Stephen Sondheim, Jerry Herman, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Kander and Ebb, with the more loving attention paid to the first two and the last one and the more satiric barbs hitting Herman and Lloyd Webber, the gags coming thick and fast throughout and using five variations of the same simple plot of "she can't pay the rent, the landlord wants the rent, the grand dame gives inspirational advice, the dashing hero comes up with the rent at the last minute".

Hannah Ley's return to Canberra is, of course, a triumph, given everything she did when she was here was a triumph and her skills have not dropped one iota in the last decade or so. As the various aspects of ingenue June, from petulant country girl, neurotic new yorker, lisping simpleton, ambitious diva or ambinguously-chicago-berlin-dive-bar dancing girl, she's perfection in all of them. Similarly perfect are Louiza Blomfeld as grand dame Abby, whose advice whether stoic, drunken, spectacular, brooding or Kurt-Weill-ian is always welcome; new entrant Will Collett fitting right into whatever's needed from cocky cowboy to dimwitted nephew to slutty dancing boy, and Jarrad West enjoys various delights from dream ballet to inconveniently stopping swivel chair to a spectacular entrance look to a very fun cape to a startlingly suggestive harnesss arrangement in an OTT german-ish accent. Duncan Driver pops up from the corner now and then to narrate to perfection, filling in where the budget can't. 

Nick Griffn accompanies it all in high style on piano/keyboard with aplomb, and all in all it looks mabye just that little bit fresher than it did a dozen years ago, played confidently with maximum ridiculousness for a fun, silly, spectacular night out.