Photographer: Antonia Kitzel.
Henry Farrel's 1960 novel "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" became a sensation when filmed in 1962 - the combination of aging divas Bette Davis and Joan Crawford in a story about two mutually dependent sisters, aging and squabbling while one slips into dementia caused a box office smash and defined the rest of their careers in a series of somewhat lurid shockers. But Ed Wightman's adaptation of the novel takes it back to the original - much of the high-camp is removed and we're returned to a brutal drama about frustrated dreams, childhood exploitation and desperation. This isn't just a tour of memorable moments of the movie - there's no rat and there's no "but you are in that chair, Blanche" - instead we get a stronger look at what made Jane the cracked person we see and the consequences of decades of neglect.
Locking down this more realistic tone is Louise Bennett in the title role - the child within Jane is never far from the surface, including the immaturity and capriciousness of a child, as well as the strong sense of carrying around foundational pain. The role gives her plenty of room to move - there's a moment when she sings when it becomes apparent that if Jane could only learn how to function as an adult she could have a rich and powerful career as a singer, but her stunted expectations of herself as a child performer keep her a disturbing freak - and she seizes every opportunity to explore the range from broken child to bitter monster. Matching her is Victoria Tyrell Dixon as wheelchair-bound sister Blanche - you get the sense of the vain and pampered actress and she's not just a simpering victim to Jane's rages- she rages back with equal strength. Elsewhere, Andrea Garcia makes her moral, certain maid into something compelling - we empathise with her efforts to help Blanche. Tom Cullen as Edwin Flegg is a character with his own complications- his attempts to play along with Jane's delusions incresasingly strained as she she presents more and more bizzarely. Michael Sparks as The Man has a role where the pencil-thin-moustache and brylcreamed hair sell 90% of the role - his sleazy approach of providing then ripping away support to Jane's delusions shows how far she's damaged by her past.
Andrew Kay's set is a grand Hollywood mansion with rising mould on the wall - it looks truly lived in and sells the dilapidated grandeur of the characters well. Anna Senior's costume designs match a 60s modernism with the slightly more grotesque look of Jane's throwback performing outfit, without having the throwback outfit look too over the top. Nathan Sciberras' lighting manages the shift from strict reality to the more abstract fantasy situations, and Neville Pye's sound design uses disconcerting echoes and rumbles to heighten the tension.
This is a tense drama of bitterness and rising tension, until the brutal resolution, and is absolutely worth catching.
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