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.