Sauce, Bare Witness Theatre Company in association with Smiths Alternative, Smiths Alternative Upstairs, 11-15 Dec 2024 (and subsequent season at The Butterfly Club, Melbourne, 18-21 Dec

(photo credit Michelle Higgs-Novel Photographic)

"Sauce" is a very simply staged show - no set, no props, just two actors playing mutiple roles in a story of two young women who discover a friendship based on a common love of fast food and the various condiments that goes upon it. Ciara Elizabeth Smyth's script is a delight, an eccentric exploration of the inner lives of two unusual protagonists - Melia, a caregiver about to become homeless after the death of her grandma, and Maura, avoiding her unfaithful husband in the backroom of her part-time job - their meeting and the surprising bond that builds between them as they discover the things that connect them. It's fast, frisky, funny and a great opportunity for the two performers, Ashleigh Butler and Claire Imlach, to dive deep into the two characters and make them compelling, Butler as she gets caught up in her own fantasies until one lie too many makes things difficult, and Imlach facing humiliation with whatever dignity she can gather - and both find ways to differentiate their various side characters, from husbands to family members to co-workers to lawyers to dualling weight-watch-counsellors to delightful effect. 

Christopher Samuel Carroll directs with skill and care - meaning the story works as a driving narrative as much as a demonstration of the performer's talents - it's a remarkably clear, powerful narrative given the number of diversions it takes along the way to a warm touching finale, and the use of simple devices to switch the performers from role to role works well. In the wake of the recent announcement that Canberra Youth Theatre is pausing productions in 2025, it's a good reminder too that young performers can thrive outside the nest if given a stage and a supportive production environment, and I hope that this production proves a strong launchpad to both performers - certainly this is something special that definitely deserves to go a lot further. 

Tick, Tick .... Boom!, ACT Hub, Dec 11-21 2024

 

(production photography: Janelle McMenamin, Michael Moore)

Jonathan Larson's 1990 musical was originally a monologue piece for him to perform off-Broadway while he waited for his other works to receive a further hearing. After his death in 1996 it was reconceived as a three hander and has received regular performances ever since for an audience who's interested in seeing what else he had up his sleeve besides "Rent". It's a very autobiographical show, dealing with his relationship with his girlfriend, his best friend, his art and the end of his late-late-twenties as he turns 30 in 1990, seeing the position of a not-quite-yet-emerging-artist with all the inherent anxieties, neuroses and troubles that implies.

For anybody who was of an age to recieve "Rent" when it first appeared it felt like a major breaktrough. Since then it's felt more and more of its time - fond of sloganeering, of superficial activism and with a lot of passion and fury but not necessarily a lot of thought through ideas. "Tick Tick" is that but moreso - it's the product of a young man with a lot to say and not necessarily the clearest viewpoint on how to say them - but for those who were around in the 90s it's nice to go back to a time when the worst you could say about the political world at large was that it was kinda boring. And Larson's songs definately show skill - whether the bouncy argument "Therapy" or the lyrical "Come to your senses" or the anthemic "Louder than Words", it's easy to take them to heart. The plot threads tying them together are a little thin (the character based on him acts like an entitled brat, and he really doesn't give a lot of space to his supporting cast, whether it be girlfriend or alleged best-friend), but the show exists to support the songs more than anything else.

Performing those songs are a powerhouse cast - Alexander Unkikowski sells the neuroses and the drive that sits inside Jon, driving him to be as frustratingly goddamn young as he is, naive and rageful and difficult. Dave Collins as best friend Michael has fun with the side bits of a tricky role - his big emotional moment comes out of almost nowhere and never really gets a payoff - but there's joy in his bond with Jon and in the various side roles that Collins gets to get into. Taylor Paliaga is similarly underwritten - her dilemma is stated but not really explored, but she sings powerfully and handles the mix of love and frustration well in performance. 

Nikki Fitzgerald stages on an adaptable set (complete with comfy spot for the band at the back) that stylishly captures the downtown new york vibe required. Musical Director Callum Tolhurst-Close brings together a tight band of keyboard, drums, guitar and bass to support the cast well, including nailing those all important vocal harmonies. Choreographer Nathan Rutups gets some playful movement into the show. Fitzgerald also lights the show with an eclectic pallet that captures mood well. Nathan Patrech and Lucy Van Dooren's sound design is remarkably well captured, not overpowering the small venue of the hub. 

This is a well-realised production of a show I'm not entirely in love with in this version (I did like the movie directed by Lin Manuel Miranda for Netflix, but the stage version kinda feels a lot more like a collection of songs rather than a coherent narrative) - worth it to see this cast and band in action. 

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Echo Theatre, Aunty Louise Brown Park, The Q, 29 Nov-15 Dec

 Shakespeare's comedy of Fairies, Athenian Gentlefolk, rustic actors and the confusions that run around betweeen them has been an outdoor favourite for a while, with both Sydney and Melbourne hosting regular botanic garden productions every summer. So it's the perfect premiere show for the Q's new outside venue, and is given a production where the empahsis is very much on the fun and frothy side. Jordan Best assembles a cast of 21 to fill out the action and has the cast dashing around, in and out of the picnic-blanket-ready audience, with brisk and clear language to bring the crowd along with them. 

There's a rich variety of performances, from Lanie Hart's imperious Oberon/Thesueus, well matched with Kate Harris' generous Titania/Hippolyta, to the quartet of lovers - Caitlin Baker's yearning Helena, Jack Shanahan's entitled shitbag Demetrius, Liv Boddington's sweet-natured-until-provoked Hermia and Isaiah Prichard's determined Lysander - to the rude mechanicals, led by Kayla Ciceran's assertive Quince, Jim Adamik's grandly loquacious Bottom, Callum Doherty's gentle Flute, Joshua James' moody Starveling, Zoe Ross' emphatic Snout and Sally Taylor's gently gleeful Snug, all tangled with Rachel Robertson's distinctly playful Puck. 

In short it's a good summer frolic in the park (weather permitting) and well worth your time and your eyeballs.   

Jack Maggs, State Theatre Company of South Australia, Canberra Theatre Centre, Playhouse, 5-7 Nov

 Peter Carey's 1997 novel uses Charles Dickens' 1860 novel "Great Expectations" as a bouncing off point - taking the figure of Magwitch, one of the first literary appearances of an Australian expatriate, and exploring him more deeply, also using the life and work of Dickens in painting the figure of a novelist, Tobias Oates, who attempts to exploit Maggs' story and ultimately pays several costs. Samuel Adamson's adaptation theatricalises this in a rich and engrossing way as Maggs attempts to live among the english and realise his potential exposes him to greater and greater risks. 

Carey and Adamson are both Australians who live and work overseas - Carey has lived in New York since 1990 and Adamson has lived in London since 1991 - both are deeply interested in the way an Australian Identity was forged in the early days of colonisation and of the harsh brutality it meted out to those original inhabitants, and the way they processed it as a longing for the home that had rejected them overwhelms anything else. There's also a brutal self-reflection on the nature of writes as parisites of other people's stories, the Dickens analogue in this one an exploitative shonkster seeking to suck out as much knowledge of Maggs as possible to tell stories he can sell without ever reflecting on his subject as a damaged suffering human being. 

Geordie Brookman's production emphaises the theatrical nature of the event - starting with a largely blank stage as the actors warm up, and using direct address and a wide range of theatrical devices throughout to tell a fast and furious narrative - we're constantly reflecting back on this as a tale being told but also asked to centre Maggs as a man haunted by his past and unable to face the truth about the world that he's in now. It's a rich literate suet pudding for christmas with plenty of chunky food for thought. 

Eurydice, Lexi Sekuless Productions, Mill Theatre at Dairy Road,

 

It's interesting that this is the second Sarah Ruhl play to perform in Canberra this year, after "Dead Man's Cell Phone", and it's also interesting that these are the two plays she's written that are most engaged with death and the afterlife - "Cell Phone" treating it as a farce about a young woman finding her identity as she co-mingles with the history of a stranger, while "Eurydice" is a mythic tragedy about the loss of connections - Ruhl concentrates on elements that aren't normally focussed on in the myth through the eyes of Eurydice, including her reconnection with her departed father and the nature of the underworld where the sense of personal identity is lost and people are forced into isolation. Amy Kowalckzuk's production has beauty as well as melancholy running deep in its soul, from the opening rhapsody of Eurydice and Orpheus's young love, to the distance that opens up when she can't absorb his beloved music as much as he wants, to the distraction of the Nasty Interesting Man, to the persecution of the chorus of Stones, to the compassionate reconnection with her father to the final playing out of the myth in bleak loss. While it's a short play it never feels rushed in its developments, with moments given time to ruminate and impinge on the audience.

It's an astonishingly beautiful production, using the simple device of a two-levelled stage (reflecting surface world and underworld) with parallel movements on each level. Michelle Norris' movement is a highlight throughout, whether it be a ballet of young love, Eurydice's gasp-inducing fall, or the menacing movements of the chorus of stones.Simon Grist's set has just the elements the storytelling needs, and is lit to perfection by Jennifer Wright. 

Alana Dehmam-Preston has grace and impact as Eurydice, a heroine whose heart is as important as her actions - there's a real warmth to her performance that draws the audience in. Blue Hyslop as Orpheus has sweet warmth but also that slight sense of self-regard that makes Orpheus such a frustrating suitor  - their art is always in their head pushing out feelings towards any other. Tim Seukuless as Eurydice's father gives a sweet longing performance, protective and gentle yet fierce in his desire to protect. The chorus of Sarah Hull, Heidi Silberman and Sarah Nathan-Truesdale work well together as blunt forces of reality to stand in the way of these poetic desires, showing glee in the way they can try to break the others down. And Michael Cooper as the Nasty Interesting Man and Lord of the Underworld shows casual whimsy and a blithe carelessness that makes his cruelties even nastier. 

This is a beatuiful, tight and engrossing production that is well worth the seeing. 

Bloody Murder, Canberra Rep, 21 Nov-7 Dec

 

The conventions of the mystery thriller are well understood and equally well parodied by now - the group of suspects gathered together in a remote location all with multiple motives to slaughter one another, and bodies drop on a regular schedule until a finale where all is revealed. Versions of it are still going, whether it be the regular cycle of murders in Midsomer (23 series and counting) or revivals of Agatha Christie on stage and screen. Even after frequent spoofs from Neil Simon's "Murder by Death" and Jonathan Lynn's "Clue", and Tom Stoppard's existential parody of both the country house murder and theatre critics in "Real Inspector Hound", the genre still persists (then again, post-hound, theatre critics also still persist so... maybe we'll just call it even).

Ed Sala's script for "Bloody Murder" plays into the stereotypes - an assembly of types from drunken actor to disreputable nephew, boastful major, bashful ingenue, imperious dowager aunt and faithful maid - before pulling a few twists on the formula that examine the workings behind these kinds of stories. It doesn't quite go to the dark existential places that Stoppard did but it's still clever, funny and, in Josh Wiseman's production, brisk, stylish and effective. 

The septet of performers embody their stereotypes while going beyond them as the plot requires. There's physical comedy as the bodies hit the floor under various methods of murder, there's dexterity as the twisty-turny plot reaches unlikely conclusions and there's all kinds of surprises that a critic would have to be evil to hint at. The production is a delight for the senses from a perfect country-estate set to mood-setting sound and lighting from Nathan Scriberras and Neville Pye. 

This isn't a show that's trying for depth, just for diversion, fun and a few thrills, and it captures those perfectly. It deserves large appreciative audiences. 

Sweat, Sydney Theatre Company, Wharf Theatre, Wharf 1, 11 Nov-22 Dec

 Lynn Notage's 2015 play deals with a small town in crisis, as the employees of a steelworks gather in the local bar to largely bitch, moan and blow off some steam. The world financial crisis is hitting elsewhere and Cynthia is in with a chance of finally being promoted off the factory floor. But soon it becomes clear that bad times are coming to everyone and some of the decisions Cynthia has to make will create a rift between her and her old friend Tracey, and lead to repercussions for both of their sons. 

In some ways the play is a little bit of a bait-and-switch, particularly with the way it's promoted and cast - the casting of Paula Arundell as Cynthia and Lisa McCune as Tracey leads you to assume the play will revolve largely around them, but the play is looking more widely across the cast and finds its closing drive in focusing on the two young men playing their sons. There's a rich array of experience looking at the effects of economic downturn on a small town in Pennsylvania across several different people - the effects on their lives and on their expected futures. It's never dryly doctrinaire or an uninvolved debate, either - it's intensely personal and human. 

There is some unevenness in direction - McCune and Arundell are, as suits their status as experienced performers, given a chance to play a wide range, from McCune's initial ingratiating self-deprection that turns sour as hope dies up and her resentments turn outwards, to Arundell's joy that turns bitter as she finds herself having to tell long term friends hard truths that they refuse to listen to. But the performances of James Fraser and Tinashe Mangwana as the sons feel a lot more one-note - there's not quite the variety of reaction that these roles need, though they both play into the shattering nature of the final two scenes. Gabriel Alvardo makes a character who could feel like a point being made into something a lot more human, someone who makes the wrong decisions for the best of reasons. Yure Covich as bartender Sta plays intermediary so well and pays such a brutal price for his choice to try to stand up in the face of extremism in a way that breaks the heart. 

Jeremy Allen's design of the bar is impressively solid - a gritty, neon dive that you can almost smell the spilt beer in. I don't think it's a perfect production, or even necessarily a perfect play, but it is gripping and powerful and very thought provoking, even being written in 2015 meaning it's technically pre-Trump while explainign some of the setups for why he's a thing. 

August: Osage County, Belvoir St Theatre/Black Swan State Theatre, Upstairs Theatre, Belvoir Street Theatre, 9 Nov-15 Dec

 Didn't I just review this already? Well, yes, but Belvoir and Black Swan's production has just enough different choices to make it worthy of interest, from the decision to use a set (designed by Bob Cousns) which takes a more impressionistic approach to the challenge of combining a whole house full of family members on stage (including incorporating the symbolic papered-over-windows into the set), to a relentless pace that blends the opening discrete scenes into one another, to the timing of a production of a play about the declining United States of America after the  to the performance idiosyncracies of a new set of actors, from Pamela Rabe's monstrous celebration of a Violet Weston to John Howard's permasloshed Beverly, Helen Thompson's disgruntled Tammy Faye, Greg Stone's goofy Charles Aiken, Tamsin Carrol's volatile Barbara, Bert La Bonte's chagrined Bill, Amy Mathews' deglamorised Ivy,  to Esther William's desperately young Jean to Bee Cruise's observant and quietly cutting Johnna. 

Eamon Flack directs it with a clear head and a firm sense of place in a mostly open staging, finding points of focus around the space whether it be on a couch, at the large table during the dinner scene, at the hifi right at the centre of the stage or during one key moment played behind the set. There's an energetic heft to this and it never feels even vaguely close to the three hours 15 that it actually is, with every note of Tracey Lett's play given maximum impact. It's a powerful, strong night in the theatre and recommended for the revisit.  

Sunday, Sydney Theatre Company/Melbourne Theatre Company, Drama Theatre Sydney Opera House, 28 Oct-12 Dec

 

Anthony Weighs's play covers about thirty years of history between a mix of characters who were all associated with the titular Sunday Reed and the art commune she created in a rural property near Melbourne, and particularly focuses on her relationship with one of the artists, Sydney Nolan - though the non-linear storytelling goes back to her initial meeting with her eventual husband, John Reed, and forward to the final parting between her and Nolan. Sarah Goodes stages it on a mostly simple stage with a gap in the back where dates are projected, as artistic and personal passions become mixed and questions become raised about who's the true creator of the work, patron or artist. 

The story is very much focussed, as the title suggests, on Sunday - to the extent that some of the other famous accomplishments of those around her, in particular, her husband John - but it's a good chance to get focus on a figure who might otherwise be backgrounded in other versions - we get a strong sense of Sunday as an engaged, passionate fighter for her opinions and right to live her life how she likes. Nikki Shiels is magnetic and compelling, witty, powerful, and with an undercurrent of instability which means you're never sure just where she's going to turn next. Around her everyone else is a bit of a bit-player - James O'Connell fares best as Nolan, emerging from a hat factory to develop his own artistic style, his byplay with Sunday becomes more sensual as the story develops until he finds the need for his own independance. Matt Day as John is witty but shows the passion hiding under the surface. Ratidzo Mambo suffers the most as Joy, a character who largely exists to serve plot functions such as to represent the multiple other artists at Heide and to deliver a plot twist late in the play. Jude Hyland as the fifth member of the cast is there largely for the intro and to setup the story to come. 

Anna Cordingly's set design is all large grand brush strokes and fine details up until a finale coup de theatre, and Harriet Oxley's costumes capture the 30s-40s-50s dress sense exactly. It's a long play, covering all the histroy it does, and yet when you research after you feel like it's somehow an incomplete introduction to a very complex character, but it's compelling while it lasts. 

A Balloon Will Pop * At Some Point During This Play, East and Under Theatre Company, ACT Hub, 8-9 November

 

This is one of those shows that's great fun to watch but a bugger to review. To even describe it is a challenge - it's sorta standup-philosophy, which as anybody who saw Mel Brooks' "History of the World Part I" know, means bullshit, but in this case it's erudite, thoughtful bullshit with an inate suspense created by the titular balloon and a visible sharp object. Andrew McMillan, fresh from playing Leo and Adam in "The Inheritance", tells a big scale story delving into some of the bigger questions of existance, while also not being above some jokes that could considered low comedy. 

McMillan switches modes in this, surfing the existential waves as he plays with a pre-recorded set of sound cues (tightly cued by stage manager Maggie Hawkins) and visual support from some slide projections. McMillan brings his Edinburgh Fringe show to Canberra in a tightly drilled, thoughtful one-man show that looks at the infinite and the personal and what living between the two of them could mean.

Nice Work if You Can Get It, Queanbeyan Players, The Q, 1-10 November

 This is another review of a show I've reviewed before, in the Hayes production in 2024 (link here), but this production uses the bigger stage of the Q and the opportunities it grabs for splashy production numbers to tell its ridiculous story of three bootleggers, an army of chorus girls and vice squad members, a carefree playboy, a wedding and a whole lot of Gerswhin classic songs squeezed into one show. The team of Dave Smith, Kirsten Smith and Brigid Cummins have assembled a fine cast, band and crew to create a fluffy November frolic for Queanbeyan Players that should delight anyone. 

Leading the cast is Luke Ferdinands, singing Gershwin so perfectly you'd swear they were recorded on a 78rpm shellac record, and performing the role of an impulsive, frivolous playboy to sweetly dimwitted perfection. Alongside him is Sienna Curnow as tough tomboyish bootlegger Billie, with a sweetly yearning singing voice and a fragility lying just under the rough surface in the sweetest of ways. Anthony Swadling as bootlegger-turned-butler is a masterpiece in frustrated rage, grumbling through multiple plot twists with aplomb. Lillee Keating as the campaigning Duchess Dulworth sings grandly operatically and finds the joy when she's finally released from her straightlaced restrictions. John Whinfield delights almost instantly as he does a muppet-like dash across the stage with bobbing head, and adds in layers of goofy idiocy as he gets entwined with Kay Liddiard's playful Jeannie Muldoon. Steven O'Mara plays just as delightfully as goofy Chief Berry, caught up in the multitudes of deceptions and nonsense. Anna Tully's Eileen is delightfully condescending, blithe and looks great whether in a an elognated bathtub specialty number or in her wedding gear with ridiculously long train. Pat Gallagher gallumphs effectively as the stern Senator/Referend/Judge Evergreen, and Fiona Hale is a fun deus ex machina at the end as Millicent. 

Dave Smith directs effectively with an emphasis on comedy but with just enough reality for us to care when boy is in peril of losing girl, and Kirsten Smith choreographs on a grand scale, filling the stage with undulating bodies in compelling patterns to Gershwin's rhythms, fascinating and otherwise. Brigid Cummings conducts a band that sounds perfectly period, taking us back into the 20s and swinging up a storm. 

In short, this is a nonsensical, big scale retro delight. If it's not quite how they wrote them back in the day (back then the good songs were split over about 5 or 6 musicals and the plot made, somehow, even less sense than this one), it's a concentrated hit of all the best things of the era and a great fun night out.  

Dear Evan Hansen, Sydney Theatre Company and Michael Cassell Group, Roslyn Packer Theatre, 12 Oct - 1 Dec (and subsequent touring to Melbourne from 14 Dec, Canberra from 27 Feb and Adelaide from 3 April)

 "Dear Evan Hansen" is a teen angst musical about an isolated boy who finds an invitation into other's lives when he is mistakenly taken for a close friend of a fellow student who committed suicide - his engagement with the family of the dead student, his fellow students and his mother all spiral out of control as social media gets involved in spreading the mixed truths in the name of inspiration. Accompanied by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul's songs which sound grandly inspirational until you remember exactly how much falsitude is behind them, it's a thought provoking show given a speedy, grandly powerful production from Dean Bryant and a skilled Australian team. 

For wahtever reason, Beau Woodbridge was not available to play the role of Evan Hansen at my performance so Lawrence Hawkins filled in - at such a level of performance that it would appear he's owned the role for months - he conveys Evan's nervous energy exactly, hitting every note of a challenging score and communicating how out of control Evan's life feels. He's surrounded by a strong supporting cast - for a big scale musical, this is a fairly intimate show, with a total cast of 8 - Evan and his mum, the suicidal Connor and his sister, mother and father, and two fellow students make up the ensemble. It's enhanced by video projections reflecting both memories and the social media world around the them (designed by David Bergman) - it's a staging that whisks us from location to location swiftly. The lighting design by Matt Scott isolates Evan in a bigger world excellently.

This show has its controversies - Evan's deception may start out as a white lie but it becomes obvious Evan's not entirely above taking advantage of his luck, and in behaving in ways that aren't entirely honourable. And the focus on him means that inevably some other characters around him fall into caricature - including pretty much all the other younger characters - this is particularly the case in his relationship with the late Connor's sister, where she feels less like a rounded human being so much as a girl-shaped-object for Evan to fixate on. This is by no means the only show ever to have an underwritten female lead, but it's a pity that a show in the 21st century still struggles to actually give a female character an interior life.  

But Bryant's production takes full advantage of the material to present a big scale musical that pushes just a little bit deeper than normal - no, it's not at the level of "Fun Home" or "Next to Normal" (to name two of my favourite psychological musicals of recent years), but it does have a certain power to it that works. 

Well Behaved Women, Belvoir Street Theatre, Sept 28-Nov 3

 Based on Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's quote "Well Behaved Women Seldom Make History", this song cycle by Perth Born, New York Based compose Carmel Deane features four performers telling the stories of 16 women over the course of 15 songs plus a cycle-capping song at the end. From Eve to Malala via Grace Tame, Hariet Tubman and others, it's a simply-staged production, with a 4 piece band scattered around Grace Deacon's black levelled set, aided by Susie Henderson's Video design. There's power in some of these moments (getting to see Ursula Yovich sing Boudicca's song is a powerful experience, as is Zahra Newman's introductory tempting Eve or Stephani Caccamo's Mary Magdelene complaining about being the only girl in the picture). From a quick check, it appears the show's had a localising rewrite since its original run, with Elanor Roosevelt, the first 4 female Supreme Court Justices and Lady Liberty replaced by Julia Gillard, Grace Tame and Cathy Freeman, and it does feel like we've traded up at our end. 

The challenge of a song cycle is that with every song you reset, and the show's fortunate to have the four fine actresses it has who provide a solid reset for each number, keeping it engaging (the fourth actress at my performance was standby Sarah Murr) - still, it's difficult not to compare and one or two pieces don't really seem to fit the requirement for significant women of history (the Billie Jean King number, concentrating on the 70's Battle of the Sexes match, feels like it's indulging in one of the minor sideshows of history rather than something eseential) - while the Fanny Durack/Mina Wylie song illuminates a bit of almost-forgotten history that richly rewards the examination. The performers sing with compassion, strength, power and intelligence, engaging the audience completely in these stories, and Blazey Best stages it well, using the variuos areas of the stage to get the performers up close and personal. 

While it can feel a little like preaching to the converted, I'd prefer to call it a gentle reminder of where we've come from and a chance for skilled performers to get to engage with powerful women in a strong set of songs.  

Titanique, Michael Cassell Group, Grand Electric, 12 Sept-1 Dec (currently, though may extend)

 

A ridiculous spoof of the James Cameron movie, Celine Dion's career, the conventions of musical theatre and anything else going in the culture at the time they wrote this, "Titanique" as a show observes little sense of reality, spares little budget for props, has no respect for the fourth wall and runs about half the length of the James Cameron movie it's based on. And thank goodness for that - this is a good old fashinoed laugh riot. One might quibble, perhaps, that the song list lacks the obvious song for a flashback (It's all Coming Back To Me Now, presumably because Jim Steinman proved surprisingly less amenable to music liscencing than either the Walt Disney Corporation, Phil Spector, Diane Warren or any of the other writers of the 18 Celine tracks performed during the show). But it's a minor quibble. 

The plot features Celine inserting her into a broadly played recap of the 1997 James Cameron film, stealing any solos going and generally making a French-Canadian mashup of vowels all over the place. Nothing is sacred - not the front row of the audience, not the performances of the original cast, not Celine and certainly not any random sex jokes that can find their way into the script somewhere. It's a big bouncy burlesque of a show, with a core of respect for the music, sung spectacularly by a cast of eleven plus band. and given go-for-broke performances led by Marney McQueen as the glorious diva herself, with a well-studied performance that includes every askew head bop, every heroic arm wave along with the glorious notes we need. Drew Weston is an enthusiasticaly idiotic Jack and Georgina Hopson matches him for empty-headedness as  Rose. Keane Sheppard-Fletcher's Cal is suitably self-impressed as himbo finance Cal, Stephan Anderson drips venom as Rose's disapproving mother Ruth, Abigail Dixon is a boisterous Molly Brown and Abu powers through as the Seamen, the Iceberg and whatever else the show needs him to do. 

The Grand Electric is very much a found-venue, a back-of-the-alley hall jam packed with seating for the occasion and very eager to sell the audience as much booze as possible - given seating is first-in-best-dressed in your area, I'd suggest arriving early for best sightlines unless you've paid for the front-row cabaret tables. 

If you dislike Celine or 1997's biggest grossing box office sensation, this is not your show. But for anbyody else, this is a ridiculous, fun evening of song, story and budget-appropriate-spectacle for anyone with a sense of nonsense. 

 

The Inheritance (Parts I and II), Everyman Theatre, ACT Hub, 12 Oct-2 Nov

 

A deep dive into both the last decade of gay cultural history and the decades that have come before, "The Inheritance" is a passionate exploration of questions of gay identity and how it's been communicated and understood - both in the contemporary world of gay marriage where it's easy to be complacent and the decades before when it has been at risk either through censorship both external and internal and the wider threats of disease and death. It's been a beloved text for me since I first read it back in 2018 and during the pandemic I wrote a piece on it called Shows I wish someone would do to try to communicate my love for it. I've read the play on and off since the first reading, delighting in its depth and breadth as it examines two central couples from different generations, the wealthy young actor and the impoverished sex worker who become involved, and their attempts to tell their stories with honesty and integrity, even as they fight against their own worst instincts.

Jarrad West's production is a wonder, bringing together a powerhouse cast in a small traverse arena, up close and very personal, managing the multiple modes of the show, from epic speeches to small two-person scenes to grand debates on essential questions of gay and American political culture - act two of part one alone contains both a sensual erotic re-enactment of a night in a Prague bathhouse, a Manhattan brunch debate on the nature of Gay Cultural Co-Option, and a tear-down bruising fight as a couple fall apart. The bare space - two sets of benches with props concealed within them on either side of the stage with a white open area between them - is filled with life, action, and animating thought throughout. 

Among the powerhouse performances are Duncan Driver in his first appearance on Canberra stages in around 5 years - playing both Morgan (E.M Forster as narrator, in constant dialogue with the young men of the cast, challenging and examining their choices) and Walter, the historic emotional heart of the show and the strongest connection to history - his delivery of the monologue at the act one should break every heart in the theatre. James McMahon is so easy to take to heart as Eric Glass - a protagonist whose pure goodness rarely wavers should be difficult to take, lacking in the stimulating flaws of much of the rest of the cast, but McMahon manages to make this goodness gripping and powerful. Joel Horwood makes compelling the pure agent of chaos that is Toby Darling, selfish, frustrating, self-pitying, often disastrously wrong, they are somehow gripping as you hopelessly wish that just once, Toby would make the right decision. Andrew McMillan is fascinating in duel roles both as the privileged Adam and the unprivileged Leo, managing to differentiate them firmly throughout, even at the point when the two characters meet in the story. Rhys Robinson as the distant, powerful financier Henry lets us see both the wall he maintains professionally and the holes in the armour where emotions sneak through - both the warm lovingness and the sudden rage when he erupts when pained. Lachlan Herring makes a delight of the waspish Jasper who comes alive when the debate gets passionate, and Jack Tinga brings warmth as Tristian, the friend who brings uncomfortable truths. Callum Doherty and Michael Cooper match well with their older counterparts as the Young Walter and Henry, and Robbie Haltiner and Leonidas Katsanis have a gentle warmth as the Jasons. Liam Pritchard as Toby's agent presents harsh showbiz realities with a suitable lack of sugar coating. And Karen Vickery brings it home with warmth and honesty as truth-teller Margaret. 

There's so much strength here, whether it be in Lachlan Houen's lighting (which even manages to reflet the Everyman logo in a couple of the shadows), the combination of movenent director/choreographer Chloe Archer and Intimacy Co-ordinator Karen Vickery in the carefully choreographed sensual sequences, the multiple props including many editions of books mentioned in the text co-ordinated between Marion West, Alice Ferguson and Brenton Warren, the costumes designed and co-ordinated by Joel Horwood, Fiona Leech, Emma Batchelor and Vanessa Valois, the location specific sound design by Nikki Fitzgerald and Nathan Patrech, the warm original music by Alexander Unikowski - this is finely produced stuff with all the parts making up the whole beautifully. 

Matthew Lopez's play is a very aware part of the tradition of Gay men telling their stories, from the closeted days of Wilde, Maugham, Forster and Noel Coward, through to the semi-revealed closet of Tennessee Williams to the open rompery of Joe Orton, the bitterness of Mart Crowlely, the rage of Larry Kushner, the warmth of Armistead Maupin, the political spectacle of Tony Kushner and the personal intimacy of Tommy Murphy and is a worthy successor to all of them - it's a grandly powerful, emotional, intelligent, erotic, spectacle for the mind, soul and heart. It's a production that will live long in my memory. 

Cost of Living, Melbourne Theatre Company, The Sumner, Southbank Theatre, 14 Sep-19 Oct

 

About a month after MTC presented the 2023 Pulitzer Prizewinner for drama in a Canberra Tour, they present the 2018 one (also this year I've seen the 1948, 2008, and 2010 winners and I'll be seeing the 2017 winner next month along with another go at the 2008). Martyna Majok's play looks at the relationship between two disabled people - one paraplegic, one quadriplegic - and their carers - in one case, an ex-husband who hasn't yet been removed from next-of-kin or the insurance, in the other a bartender looking for part-time work assisting a young grad student who needs casual assistance to fully function in the world. In both cases these are relationships complicated by the human needs of both of the partners - the push and pull that affects both of them in different ways. 

It's a challenging show to cast, given the show presents the two cared-for characters with authentic casting - but it's found two skilled performers in Rachel Edmonds as the prickly, wary Ani and Oli Pizzey Stratford as the privileged, blithe John. They're matched by Mabel Li as the bartender-turned-caregiver and Aaron Pederson as the ex-husband still yearning for engagement with his wife. It's quite an intimate story for the massive Sumner theatre and Anthea William's production manages to draw the audience in (though I do think the sets are a little too grand-sized - even for the evident privilege John is meant to have, a New York apartment that size would cost an astronomic amount in rent that I'm not sure is even vaguely possible, and even Ani's apartment feels a little inflated despite the cramped quarters created by unpacked boxes - the Sumner stage is simply too wide for this show). Still, as Majok's story dwells into the needs of both cared-for and care-giver, it grabs the heart and doesn't let go for an hour fifty running time. The ending in particular is strong as it sees a crossover of needs between the two stories in a way that tentatively leans towards hope. 

Matilda Woodroofe's set and costumes, allowing for the scale issue mentioned above, are beutiful and striking and reflect the different mileu's of the play, and it's strongly lit by Richard Vabre. This is a very skilfully put together, personal production made with heart and care. 

The Boy From Oz, Free-Rain Theatre Company, The Q, 1-20 Oct

 

Full disclosure - in 2010, I was on the stage crew for Philo's production of "Boy from Oz". Weirdly enough I never saw the production from the front, but I loved working on the show - it's a musically rich show, and presented various challenges in stealthy piano-moving - and it was fun to watch Jarrad West milk an audience from the wings. Weirdly enough I never watched it from the front, but it was a delight to re-encounter various musical and dramatic moments 14 years later. Inevitably I'm going to make mental comparisons between the two productions, but hopefully I'll be able to keep that in check (though our piano movement was much more stealthy than this production, which doesn't use curtains to conceal anything). 

For those of you who don't know the show, it's a look at the life of Peter Allen, song-and-dance-man extrordinaire. Free Rain's production sets the period of the 70s and 80s, Allen's most productive decades, through the pre-show mix of music and advertisements from the era - particularly the Channel 9 light-entertainment era of Don Lane and Mike Walsh which Allen fitted into so well (for anybody who grew up in this era, this is going to be a nostalgia bomb) - and the show segues into Allen directly addressing the audience during a late-in-the-tour-concert telling of the high-and-low points of his life as he meets Judi Garland, marries and divorces Liza Minnelli, hits the hights of big scale concerts, writes songs that are immortal, falls in love with his partner Greg Connell and loses him to AIDs, and wears a whole lot of very very loud shirts. Nick Enright's script squeezes 25 of Allen's songs (plus one he didn't write) into an emotionally rich portrait of a career in showbiz that condenses 25 years of career into two and a half hours with a combo of wit, oneliners and some occasional loose sense of chronology (including saving a key early childhood psychological insight to late act two to ensure the show musically ends with a set of all--time-bangers).

Jared Newell is a singing-dancing-acting frenzy as Peter, delivering Allen's personality and simultaneously self-agrandizing-and-self-effacing style delightfully as he drops one-liners, sings up a storm and throws his leg over a piano just like a Peter Allen should. Supporting him is a rich array of talent - starting with Janie Lawson as his mother Marion, delightful as she looks after her boy in his youth, gossips with him as he calls in from overseas and devestating when she delivers "Don't Cry Out Loud" near the end. Meaghan Stewart's Judy Garland is a great impersonation, capturing all the rich notes of Garland's voice and letting Garland be pained, witty, bitter, gleeful and thoroughly fascinating. Stephanie Bailey's Liza Minnelli is similarly delightful, emerging from the shy daughter to the spectacular star in a Fosse-inspired "Sure Thing Baby" to spectacular effect. Lachlan Elderton's Greg Connell is a sweet supporting partner whose loss breaks the heart. Mitchell Clement's young Peter Allen is full of the glee of discovering and exploring your talent on stage. And Kara Sellers' gleeful Yvette Anthony is a total scene-stealer as she embraces Peter's talent. 

Kristy Griffin's direction is tight and skilful whisking the show across its several moods and locations - though there are one or two songs which feel slightly overly illustrated when they might sit better just simply sat and sung to let the songs stand unadorned. James Tolhurst-Close and Griffin's choreography goes from Fosse to Radio City Rockette Busby Berkley to disco to buck-and-wing-tap to Bandstand Beachparty Rave Up with skill and variety. Callum Tolhurst-Close's musical direction gives us an ensemble with great harmonies and Ian McLean's conducting is, as always, a joy to behold as his band is tight and clear. 

Particular mention to Zac Harvey's lighting design - the rich reds during the sillouetted "Sure Thing Baby" and the intense lightnig during "Love don't Need a Reason" are beautiful and finely illustrative. 

This is a show I adore given a delightful revival - objectively I can sit back and say that it's got a little bit of cheese in it, but it's a kind of cheese I kinda like with some strong blue veins in it giving it life and tastiness. 

Work, but this time like you mean it, Canberra Youth theatre, Canberra Theatre, Courtyard Studio, 20-29 Sept

 

Georgie Bianchini, Tom Bryson, Hannah Cornelia, Kathleen Dunkerley, Quinn Goodwin, Matthew Hogan, Sterling Notely and Emma Piva in "Work, But This Time Like You Mean It". Photo by Andrew Sikorski–ArtAtelier Photography

Canberra Youth Theatre's latest play looks at the adolescent workplace-  the fast food venues where young people from 13 to 22 have their first work experience, and learn about tension, exploitation, customer demands and occasionally acquire a bit of spare money to start getting ahead in the game of capitalism. Honor Webster-Mannison's script emphasises the grueling repetitiveness, the familiar customer complaints asking for discontinued lines of food and things you've never sold, the constant attempts to keep ahead of the supply chain, moving through the paces of a shift. There's highs and lows, there's surreal trips into the strangest of sidelines and there's the occaisonal passionate longing speech as we get inside the service workers's heads to discover how they escape, but we know they'll be back at the prep station or the till shortly to continue the same old tasks. 

Luke Rogers' production stylises this on a tilted stage with a ball pit at the bottom - the balls thrown back and forth represent the various foodstuffs being prepared and sold - a budget-conscious way of not having to waste a lot of actual food on stage and a fun way to present it (though the ballpit isn't exactly tightly controlled, leading to a lot of balls for the stagecrew to collect and return every night back to the pit). A lot of the scenes of repetative chaos do feature a lot of overlapping dialogue and it does lead to a slight case of stagnation in the staging, which the surreal interludes help to break. The more human sidescenes like the interractions between Drive and Food-Prep during their breaks, or the individual antics of the Regular customer, tend to stand out by their contrast - and Food Prep's final monologue does feel deeply incisive while also feeling like material that I'd much rather have seen folded into the play at the expense of some of the whole-cast-spectacle sequences which felt a bit draggy. 

Ethan Hamill's video design is a particular highlight, lifting the show in interesting ways, and Kathleen Kershaw's set and costume designs give the production a great deal of the fun it has, whether it be the blandness of the uniforms, the brigh-redness of the decor or the pleats of the regular's formal dress. 

This is a lively production with a lot to say in its one hour run-time, but in getting trapped in the desire to repeat mundane regular tasks it does lose time to cover in more depth the truly interesting parts of its subject.  It's a short fast shot to the system, and much like its subject, there are probably better theatrical meals to be had, but this hits the spot for now. 

Slap. Bang. Kiss., Melbourne Theatre Company, The Q, 11 Sept

 Dan Giovannoni's play looks at three events that spark activism - a slap, a bang and a kiss - and how this activism spreads. The three actors share narration - while each primarily carries one of the events, there is trade off between them at various points. The plotting gets a little schematic as the activism spreads for each of the characters, and it does tend to lean towards inspirational positivity rather than dwelling into the deeper questions of carrying on an activists life, of keeping dedication in the face of challenges and in remaining inspired, but it's well directed by Katy Maudlin, giving the stage activity and liveliness in the trade off between the three performers.

Sarah Fitzgerald, Tomas Kantor and Tsungirai Wachenuka give the material their all, whether in the static opening areas or the more physically active later developments, and are passionate and intriguing speakers - combining passion with their youth in ways that completely captures the attention. Kate Davis' set incorporating small apparently concrete blocks which can be rearranged with ease, giving it variety and versatlity as the story moves around and building conclaves for the actors to move towards. Amalia Lever-Davidson's lighting design is almost part of the set, varying from tight closeups to larger sprawling sequences using the whole space, and never wavers in giving us something interesting to look at.

I must admit I think this is a really well produced and directed production of a play that feels a little rudimentary - the ideas never really stretch much further than "activism Yay". But I also suspect as a 50-something year old man this won't hold the appeal for me that it might for the teenagers it's clearly written for. In any event, this was a one-night-and-one-afternoon stand at the Q, and I suspect it may have an appeal to a wider audience than that suggests. 

August: Osage County, Free-Rain Theatre Company, ACT Hub, 5-15 Sept

 

This production shares three cast members with the last time Free Rain ran this show, almost a decade ago (review here), all playing the same roles - but this is very far from a rote production. A modern epic American Family Drama, feeling like it summarises all the great American plays into one outsized epic, from the addiction issues of Eugene O'Neill to the weird regional activities of Sam Shepherd to the speechifying about the nature of America of Tony Kushner, this is a play that contains multitudes as three generations of an Oklahoma family gather in the wake of the disappearance of the patriarch - with three daughters returning to deal with their pill-addicted and happily-pasisng-on-the-genrational-trauma mother, the various husbands and partners, the local police, the aunt-uncle-and-cousin relations and a recently-hired live-in housekeeper. Beginning in 2007 at Chicago's famed Steppenwolf theatre, the original production transferred to Broadway and to London's national theatre and a tour hosted by the Sydney theatre Company, before the film was released (cut down to a more audience-friendly length) with a big name cast that never quite recaptured the theatrical energy of the play. 

It remains Letts' masterpiece - the plays he wrote before had a sharp incisive power (particularly "Killer Joe" and "Bug" but his later work doesn't quite have the urgency - Letts has shifted into an acting career largely made up of being senior patriarch figures in series like "Homeland" and movies like "Lady Bird", "The Post", "Little Women" and "Ford v Ferrari" - it's a very classically well made play, from the three act structure basically built into it by the uninterrupted roller coaster of act two, which takes this hothouse of a family and turns the boiler up until it explodes, with the third act remaining to pick up the pieces left behind. Cate Clelland gives the intimate Hub space an epic power, playing it longways and finding as many inches as possible of stage space to let the family sprawl all over the house. She maintains space and focus even as the various members of the Weston-Fordham-Aiken clans bicker and yell, often simultaneously across the space. There's a sense of control in among the chaos as we're always brought back to what matters, which is the emotions and tensions between family members, whether they be hostility, love, frustration or lust.

Karen Vickery as the matriarch is the mother from hell, and seizes the opportunity to ride a role that allows her to play everything from pathetic incoherence in the worst of her sedated-delusion to concentrated focussed venom as she reaches out to destroy family members one by one. Louise Bennet makes a return after a long time away from Canberra stages as the most prominent of the three daughters, dealing with her own parental frustrations, her own frayed marriage and her own ability to shoot venom at family members at the climax of the second act. Tracy Noble as Aunt Mattie Fae starts as a gossiping side figure before it becomes more apparent how great her own level of venom is, and what she's held in for years and is now finding an opportunity to release. Crystal Mahon is compelling as the somewhat crushed Ivy after long exposure to her mother, and brings hope as she finds a secret way to escape before a final brutal secret hits her like a brick. David Bennett handles Beverly's long opening monologue with aplomb, setting up the character and the nature of the family early. Bruce Hardie gives Bill a gentle generosity as he realises how deeply he's disengaged from his wife and how impossible it is to return. Michael Sparks similarly has a powerful humanity as the mostly-quiet-but-rebelllious when riled Charles. Richard Manning is suitably skin crawling as the awful Steve. Lachlan Rufffy is hapless, adorably labradorish and astonishingly vulnerable. Ella Buckley as the awkwardly prepubescent Jean draws attention as she tries and often fails to stand by her values in the face of the rest of her bullheaded family. Karina Hudson gives Karen a sense of a self that has decided to ignore as much as possible around her to avoid feeling damage, at the expense of parts of her humanity. Rob Drennan as Sheriff Deon is a warm honest presence who is clearly invested in parts of the families history they may not even remember, and Andrea Garcia's Johnna provides a strong observer figure, someone who absorbs all the tension around her without betraying too much judgment. 

This is an epic and powerful production, and well worth the three-hours-and-change of your time in the theatre - a high-tension family drama that takes us through all the darker sides of family history and leaves us wrung out at the other end happy we can leave these people behind and hoping some of them survive intact. 

English, Melbourne Theatre company, Playhouse, Canberra Theatre Centre, 5-7 Sept

 

Sanaz Toossi's play was the winner of last year's Pulitzer Prize for drama - a tight comedy-drama about four students in an English-Second-Language class in Tehran, it uses a device where when characters are speaking English they use strong Iranian accents, and when not, they use the performer's natural accent. It's, as the concept suggests, a show looking at language, and how it affects how people express themselves beyond the immediately obvious - and about how the character's relationship to another culture affects them. It's a rich array of characters - all four students are learning for different reasons, and Toossi's script gives them plenty of room to breathe and explore themselves as it plays out moment by moment.

Director Tasmin Hossein gives this a naturalistic sheen as the various exercises present different challenges to the student. The set by Kat Chan is a simple small classroom with whiteboards, clicks and institutional chairs, a simple learning environment for the performers to play out their challenges, and the direction finds the meaning in small moments of tension and release.

Of the five cast members, Maia Abbas emerges strongly as the character most challenged by the English language, Elham - not because of her proficiency so much as a profound cultural identity crisis within her. Abbas gives the character wit, energy, and vigour as her challenges come more and more to the fore. Elsewhere, Osamah Sami as the english-proficient Omid has a lot of charm and handles his own counter-acting cultural issues intriguingly, and Salme Garensar as the instructor, Marjan, has a polite demeanor that proves steely when challenged, leading to a professional crisis and confession of her own issues. Delaram Ahmadi has a gentle charm to her as the hardworking student Goli who tries to stay out of the identiy issues but struggles, and Marjan Meshabi is quietly heartbreaking as the mother trying to catch up to her son who has moved to Canada but unaware how much he has already left her behind. 

This is a strong, powerful play that got a little lost in the crush of multiple productions last weekend - I saw it too late in the season for my review to do it any good, hence the delay, but it's the kind of thing I hope we see more tours of. 

Ordinary Days, Q the Locals, The Q, 5-7 September

Adam Gwon's song-cycle is inevitably going to be described as Sondheimesque by many - it's full of fast paced songs sung by four New Yorkers in various degrees of neurosis - a young couple who've just moved in together and are finding accommodating one another difficult, a grad student freaking out about his thesis and an art-enthusiast seeking for a better purpose to his life - and every song tells a mini-story all in itself, often using a device where the title takes on different meanings as it's repeated (though Sondheim doesn't have a monopoly on neurotic New Yorkers - back when Betty Comden and Adolph Green were writing them, they were considered quirky). It's a small scale story but with big feelings within it - of that point in your mid-thirties when finding the big picture of your life conflicts with just trying to live day-to-day.

Chris Zuber's production emphasises the music, fitting the action around musical director Matthew Webster at the grand piano, with the cast in constant motion on a set largely made up of milk crates (including a spectacular back wall of upside-down-skyscrapers), beautifully lit by Zac Harvey. It's an energetic production that earns its moments of still reflection in the middle of the chaos. 

The cast is made up of great musical theatre performers who, for various reasons, haven't been onstage in musicals in a while - I must admit I mentally associate Joel Horwood with plays (though they were a great lead in Urinetown only two years ago, and were in the Canberra cast of "The Hello Girls" which I missed due to being overseas) but as Warren they're a strong, open, sweet natured presence. Vanessa Valois has been away from Canberra stages for 7 years due to, presumably, the normal life things that mean people don't do stage shows, but her return is greatly appreciated as the twitchy, uptight grad-student Deb - nobody does an onstage rant like Valois. Grant Pegg and Kelly Roberts have both been on the other side of the footlights for the last few years, co-directing such productions as "Assassins", "Heathers", "Dogfight" and "Spring Awakening - their return as young couple Jason and Claire is sweet, funny and relatable as they negotiate everything from where to put his shoes to what to do on the weekend. 

It's a beautiful show full of standout moments for each of the cast members, and the energy of the production fills the big stage at the Q with delight and charm. And it's a pleaure to remake the musical acquaintance of its cast in a piece that seems sculpted on them - everybody is so suited to their roles that it's a joy to behold. The season is short, so if you blink you'll miss this and regret it, so get in fast! 

Uncle Vanya, Ensemble Theatre, 26 Jul-31 Aug

 Why does Chekov keep on coming back? It might be a combo of some dense, rich roles for actors to get their teeth into, the themes of a society on the verge of breaking down, of frustrated lives and failed interactions, of a lost generation at a turning point in history, all combine to maintain interest about 120 years after his plays were first performed. 

This small scale production at the Ensemble uses one simple set and a smaller-than-usual cast (with Vanessa Downing doubling in two small roles) to pour the drama directly onto our laps, as a long summer on a remote russian estate begins to boil over as Vanya begins to act out his frustrations, simmering romantic tensions build between his niece Sonya, the local doctor Astrov and the owner of the estate's wife, and the professor cannot help himself from boring everyone. Joanna Murray-Smith's translation occasionally gets a little too excitable about leaning towards the contemporary in the language (Yelena at one point calls Vanya a little bitch, which... is not inaccurate but it's a little out of 1890s Russian vocab), but otherwise mostly slips onto serving Chekov's original text, keeping things tight and moving. 

It's a strong cast - Yalin Ozucelik as Vanya is the centre of our attention, frustrating, needy, broken and oh so sympathetic when he finally breaks and unreels his frustrations. Tim Walter as the doctor is a little too flat in aspect - the production kind of suggests the reason two different women are drawn to him is more due to him being the best prospect in the region rather than anything particularly magnetic about him. Chantelle Jamesion as Yelena drags us into her dilemma - having obviously made a wrong choice when young she's determined not to make it worse but is drawn towards other options.  Abbey Morgan is a young and bright Sonya with a yearing heart. David Lynch as Serebrykov sells the self-important mediocrity of the man, and John Gaden as Telyehgin gives his character a few strong moments of focus. Vanessa Downing's double casting unfortunately plays a little as a stunt - she distinguishes the roles well but it's always clear that it's the same actress playing both for no real benefit. 

This is a bit of a mixed bag of a production but for those who like to wallow in their Chekhov it's a nice chance to wallow again. 

The Turn of the Screw, Craig Baldwin in association with Hayes Theatre Co, Hayes Theatre, 16 Aug-15 Sep

 

Benjamin Britten's 1954 chamber opera takes Henry James' 1898 ghost story and tells it intimately, with a cast of six telling the story of a governess, entrusted with two children who seem caught up in something strange and ominous. Given James' era, the exact nature of the ominous doings are kept at the implication level rather than blatantly spelled out and Mfanwy Piper's libretto doesn't really try to make things very much clearer, and Britten's atonal score means it's not exactly a comfortable listen, but there is a spooky power that builds up within it.

Craig Baldwin's staging strips the Hayes back to its essentials, with the walls peeling and with minimal set pieces, and the two children played by adult performers carrying puppets, lending a suitably eerie aspects to the children. It also reduces the score to a pianist and a keyboardist and lets the cast's voices reverberate off the walls of the tiny theatre. Emma Vine's simple setpieces have occasional powerful moments (as a frame turns the governess's chair into a coach) but occaisonally spend too long getting moved around the stage to convey different locations that could as easily be conveyed with a lighting change. Addy Robertson and Sandy Leung as the two children are nicely unnerving, as it becomes increasingly clear Miles has fallen deeply under the influence of one of the ghosts while Flora denies any knowledge of what's going on. Sophie Salesveeni as the governess has a clear singing voice and a modest demeanor which is stressed more and more as time passes. Benjamin Rasheed as the sinister Quint is compellingly offputting, as is Georgia Cooper as his accomplice/victim Jessell. Margaret Trubiano as the observant housekeeper, Mrs Grose, is suitably offputting too.

This is not the easiest show to take - Britten's pacing is a tad slow, his atonal music unconfortable and even though the cast is singing in English it can be difficult to make out lyrics sung at high varying pitches of intensity. This felt like a strong staging of material I was never really going to love, though there are moments in the setpieces which have distinct power. It falls into the space of something I admire rather than love. 

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Belvoir Street Theatre, 17 Aug-22 Sep

 Simon Stephen's adaptation of Mark Haddon's book "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" was an instant hit when it hit the london stage in 2012 - Marianne Elliot's production using all the bells and whistles of the Royal National theatre, including high-tech lighting, sound and lighting. But Stephen's adaptation is a relatively simple piece using its ensemble to assist in telling the story of Christopher, our neurodivergent protagonist who attempts to solve a mystery in his backyard only to find one inside his own household. Belvoir's production, directed by resident directer Hannah Goodwin, strips back a lot of the bells and whistles, using a simple set with a clock and a lot of chalk to tell the same story, keeping the ensemble focus. She also includes a short warning section at the beginning for the neurodivergent concerning bright lights and loud noises, and adds a continuing device to maintain these warnings. 

There's still the same amount of spectacle, with the journey at the beginning of act two being a particular highlight, but the human focus keeps us inside the story and engrossed in it - while it's a long-ish night at two hours 40, the time races by as the plot twists and the relationship dynamics emerge in a way that reaches across the stage. Even when the driving mysteries of the first act are resolved before intermission, the personal challenges that have been revealed by the solutions drive the second act quite remarkably. 

There's not a dud performance in the cast - Daniel R Nixon as Christopher is the centre, slightly snobbish and intellectually self-possessed but aware of his own limitations, brave and powerful and yet desperately in need of comfort. Bridgit Zengeni as his supportive teacher Siobhan is a warm presence at the heart of the play, interrogating Christoper to get a better sense of his story and to find the things that he's not able to tell. Brandon McClelland as his dad manages the tricky path of a character who tells very little directly but clearly feels a lot. Matilda Ridgeway's appearance is one of the surprises of the story, but she's a warming presence as soon as she arrives. Tracey Mann is one of those actresses who is always welcome and here she's delightful in a range of roles, most specially as neighbor Mrs Alexander. Ariadne Sgouros is also a pleasure to see both as the grim Mrs Shears and the gleeful Mrs Gasgoyne. Nicholas Brown gets to play warm and rough in his various roles, while Roy Joseph has a nice line in confusion and frustrated authority. 

There's skilful use of movement throughout by Nigel Poulton, Tim Dashwood and Elle Evangelista, and Kelsey Lee's lighting is tight and direct and plays significant roles in the storytelling. 

In short this is a powerful telling of a classic show, which goes beyond being a replica of the much-seen National Theater version (rerun several times by NT Live)  to find its own ways of telling the story with skill and passion. 

Every Brilliant Thing, ACT Hub, 20-25 Aug

 Duncan McMillan built his play "Every Brilliant Thing" with the performer Johnny Donohoe. It's basically a monologue with extended audience assistance - the story of the show is of how a young person deals with their parent's depression by trying to find all the good things in life and making a list of them, and the show gives audience members numbered sheets which they're asked to read aloud at the point when their particular thing shows up on the list ... among other requirements which it would be a shame to spoil. But the show becomes a true collaboration between audience and performer, a rapport and comfort between us. In Australia, it's been performed by some skilled actors  - Kate Mulvaney did half the original Belvour Street season before being called away by international filming duties for an Amazon TV series, with Steve Rodgers taking over the second half, and in Adelaide it was picked up by Jimi Bani for a run at the State Theater Company of South Australia. It's a very open text that requires the actor to age from around 7 to around 40 in front of us and to drive the evening with little more than their personality, a couple of pieces of cardboard and the audience's assistance.

Jarrad West is more than up to the challenge. One of the downsides of him being a directorial powerhouse is that he doesn't get on stage as frequently as we'd like - but between definitive performances in "The Normal Heart", "Company" and "The Boy From Oz", and some great supporting work including his recent run in "Mary Stuart", he's always a welcome presence, but this show requires a lot of him in terms of energy, warmth, compassion and emotional tension. And he delivers in bucketloads, warm, sly, playful, charming, daggy, endearing, vulnerable and transcendentally joyous. It's a performance fully worthy of any number of positive adjectives and these are the ones I've come up with this morning - there are thousands more to throw at this and they would all be richly deserved. 

This is a very short run and deserves the full and undivided attention of every serious theatregoer in town (plus all the people who don't know they want to be serious theatregoers yet, but who should become one). It's a thoughtful heart-filling show that you would be foolish to miss. 

Julia, Sydney Theatre Company and Canberra Theatre Centre, Playhouse, 3-11 Aug (and subsequently touring to Adelaide 16-31 Aug and sydney 5 Sep-12 Oct)

 Yes, I admit it, I'm a latecomer to Joanna Murray-Smith's theatrical exploration of Julia Gillard, but Sarah Goodes' production, and the performance of Justine Clarke in the central role, captured my imagination in a way that's rare. It's a bold production - few playwrights would be willing to take on a bio-play where the climax and centrepoint is 15 minutes of someone else's writing, nor would many directors choose a simple setting of a carpet, a few chairs and two mirrors by Renee Mulder - indeed, the mirrors are a challenge to any lighting designer, which Alexander Berlarge lights to pinpoint perfection -  and few actresses would choose a role where for much of the show there's no real attempt at a physical resemblance to the subject, and only intermittent attempts at vocal resemblance. 

But the strength of this show is that it dives deep into an individual and a moment, into modern political history, into something that captures the internal challenges of a strong capable leader in the middle of a firestorm. Murray-Smith recently had her mastery of the monologue shown off in "Bombshells", but here she's taking one particular life and one particular story from multiple angles - introducing us with an almost third-person narrative before moving the lead actress into a direct-address approach that gives as much priority to Gillard's internal turmoil as to her words and public thoughts. While the publicity is careful to state this is a play of developed surmise based on Gillard's statements and written words, there's a strong sense of empathy here. 

Clarke owns the stage in a performance that is deliberately rarely an impersonation - it's a personal, human take on a figure that became iconic and boiled down to a couple of key components (the voice, the hair, the jackets) - humanised, internalised, and then in the final moments captured in her own words, given full invective in a moment that is thoroughly prepared, contextualised and captured. 

It's a rich and powerful show that demands to be seen, essential modern Australian theatre.