The 2021 Well I Liked It Awards (WILIs)

 

Another year, another chance for Canberra's Fourth-Most-Popular-Theatre-Awards. And, yes, it's been another year where the full roster of productions didn't happen, but dammit, there was still award-worthy stuff this year that's worth talking about, so this is an excuse to talk about it at some length. 

First of all, in local theatre, Canberra Youth Theatre had a generally stellar year, with three strong plays for their teenage cohort, their under 13s and their twentysomethings - the teenagers with the chilling and revealing "Little Girls Alone in the Woods", the under 13s with the gripping "I've Been Meaning to Ask you", and the twentysomethings with "Two Twentysomethings...". In each case they were modern, relevant choices, given clear productions full of entertainment and insight. The best of these may have been the one for the under 13s, "I've been meaning to ask you", a show very much about how young people view the world they're growing up with - a distorting and somewhat disturbing mirror of the current world as it is. A lot of youth theatre feels more like training exercises than theatre, and often exercises that mean more to the 30-and-40 year olds that are running the groups than to the young people involved in making the shows. These are unapologetically shows generated by and from young people talking about their concerns, and bringing us into their point of view - it's fully-grown-up-theatre that just happens to have a cast of young people, developing true ensembles out of their casts. It's an impressive achievement, and I hope to see CYT duplicate it in future years and grow accordingly.

 Elsewhere, I was also impressed by "Wolf Lullaby" by Echo theatre at Queanbeyan - director Jordan Best revisited a play she'd directed impressively fifteen years back, and brought out a production that was just as terrifying and just as insightful while absolutely being its own thing. Also Papermoon's "The Penelopiad" took a different view of foundational Greek Myths in a production of life, spectacle, and engagement, making Margaret Atwood's somewhat dry script a very lively and visceral exercise.

Touring, two that most impressed me were "The Appleton Ladies Potato Race" with a killer all-female cast of theatre legends both old (Valerie Bader and Merridy Eastman) and younger (Mandy McElhinney and Amber McMahon) and brand new to me (Sapidh Khan) telling a great Australian Story with speed, clarity and entertainment, never lingering on the obvious moral dimension to draw from the production; and "Grace Under Pressure", a fascinating docu-drama about the pressures that the medical profession places on its staff, again done with clarity and style in a simple yet effective production. 

In the "special Theatrical event" category sits "You're Safe til 2024: Deep History", David Finnigan's narrated story of his personal history, the history of the planet, and the possible places it's going to, which combined strong visuals and musical aspects with an urgent impassioned narrative and a strong personal style - a gripping night in the theatre showing Finnigan to be a figure absolutely worth keeping an eye on as one of Australia's more visceral voices.

Interstate, of the plays I saw I ultimately fell most head-over-heels in love with Sydney Theatre Company's production of Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar" - this had the potential to land flat on its face with a large cast play done by three actors, extensive use of video, migrating time periods, use of the round and inclusion of additional text to add clarity or context to the play, all things that could have felt empty or gimmicky or ridiculous, but which instead gave active urgent flight to a play about the power of political movements, of propaganda and about how it burns the people around it. In particular, the central section of Geraldine Hakewill's "Friends Romans Countrymen" speech is goddamn amazing theatre, using one of the most familiar texts of all time and showing anew why it holds up, what it's doing in this play and how it's the pivot point around which everything else turns, giving it insight and dramatic urgency. 

In local music theatre, I only got a chance to see the two local Jukeboxes musicals, and by default, the jukebox I liked more was, inevitably given I'm who I am, the one playing Abba. "Mamma Mia" absolutely rewarded the waiting, premiering about a year after it was supposed to, and giving joy, emotion and drama to the goofy plotline tying all the Abba songs together, with the usual kickass performances from Louiza Blomfield and Helen McFarlane complemented by a rich supporting cast giving their all in the creation of joy and happiness and the illusion of Greek Island Summer during late April in Queanbeyan.

Interstate there were two musicals I absolutely loved, both of which will be playing more widely next year - the Finally At Last Australian Premiere of "Fun Home" gave a great production of one of my favourite musicals of the last decade, filling the large Ros Packer theatre with emotion and drama as it told Alison Bechdel's coming-of-age-and-sexuality in a funeral home dominated by her closet-case-father (and will get a reproduction as part of Melbourne theatre company's season next year in Feb-Mar); and "Moulin Rouge" was the big-scale musical writ very large, giving the sense of all that theatrical energy which has been locked up for the last two years of lockdown and releasing it with romance, fun, glamour, ridiculousness over-the-top-ness and a pure go-for-broke style that entranced me the whole runtime. 

So, in short, somehow theatre survived 2021 and gave us lots of awesome to see. 2022 will hopefully have more and greater spectacles for the eyes, ears, mind, and heart to enjoy, and I hope to see and enjoy lots of it.

Two twentysomethings decide never to be stressed about anything ever again, ever - Canberra Youth theatre, Canberra Theatre Courtyard Studio, 9-14 Dec

 

It's a familiar enough premise since the New Wave of Australian drama in the late 60s/Early 70s - the foibles and neuroses of 20somethings, presented with gentle humour as they work their way around the challenges of early adulthood. It's how writers like Alex Buzo, Jack Hibberd and David Williamson got their start. And in Michael Costi's comedy, it's a great end-of-year tonic to a year that has been fairly damn stressful.

Of course the titular premise has a big hole in it, because stress can't be disposed of by just deciding not to be stressed, and the two main characters, Boyfriend (Elliot Cleaves) and Girlfriend (Martha Russell), are both hilarious as they attempt to bottle and deny their gathering angst, through ASMR podcasts, work and impromptu Kombucha parties with their New Best Friend (Blue Hyslop). There are gags a-plenty and Luke Rogers' production gives it a smooth, stylish gleam, on Aislinn King's modern wire-diagram set. 

Costi's script is joke-filled but also has a reasonable amount of soul to it, and gives the performers plenty of space to shine. True, this isn't the most exciting of the three big offerings that Canberra Youth theatre gave us this year, but that's only because the first two kinda blew my mind while this one just amused me a fair bit. Still, light relief after the 2021 we've had feels kinda worth it

Moulin Rouge, Global Creatures and 38 other producers, Regent Theatre Melbourne til April 29 2022, Capitol Theatre Sydney from 28 may 2022 to 4 Sept 2022.

 

Baz Luhrman's film of "Moulin Rouge" is a cinematic overwhelming of romance, music, dance and drama, constantly going over the top in somewhere between cinematic throwback and ultra-modern split-second editing, with Ewan McGregor's most endearing grins, Nicole Kidman's most smoldering glances, Jim Broadbent's most ebullient glee, Richard Roxborough's silliest accent and a glorious amount of pizazz. Two decades later, it hits the Australian stage as a show with just as much energy, with most of the notable songs from the original film plus hits of the last two decades (mostly divas like Sia, Beyoncé, Pink, and Rhianna - as I said to a friend afterwards, artists beloved of gay men and teenage girls), in a production that brings glamour, energy and spectacle back to musical theatre. 

There's some sensitive rearrangements of the material to adjust for the requirements of the stage and to rebalance the central love triangle to be more of an actual triangle and less a love story with an idiot off to the side. It brings the audience in by spreading the set across the whole proscenium, including rotating windmill and be-trunked elephant, plus having much of the action occur on a ramp going out into the audience, bringing us into the action. The direction by Alex Timbers, choreography by Sonya Tayteh, set-design by Derek McLane, Costumes by Catherine Zuber, Lighting design by Justin Townsnd and Sound by Peter Hyelinski are all done to the hilt, landing the show between late 19th century Paris and Right Here, Right Now. It is lavish, spectacular and completely engrossing in a "what are they going to do next" kinda way

The cast are, astonishingly, not outshone by the show going on around them but match and surpass it. Anita Chidzey launches to the theatrical stratosphere as Satine, with a performance of power, strength and emotion that makes me wish I wasn't boycotting Free-Rain productions in the last decade or so because I wanted to see people I knew from the local theatre in lead roles, because then I woulda been able to say "I knew here when she was playing Mary Poppins". Des Flanagan gives charming romanticism to the role of role of Christian. Simon Burke is having the time of his life as the pandering Harold Ziegler, enjoying taking the audience in the palm of his hand and playing them like a symphony orchestra. Tim Omaji as Tolouse-Lautrec is even less Lautrecian than John Leguiziamo was but gives passion and energy to the role, Andrew Cook sleazes suitably as the reengineered role of the Duke. Ryan Gonzalez smoulders and struts as the tango-dancing Santiago, and Samantha Dodemaide impresses as the independent-minded Nini. 

This is big, impressive, overpowering spectacle that produces pure joy and gives the audience everything it possibly can. It's a spectacular and fun night out.

Wherever She Wanders, Grifin Theatre, Stables - 5 Nov-11 Dec 21

 

If you've wanted to outrage people, "what's going on in our university campuses" has been a go-to target for centuries - the places where young people start to experiment with new ideas and each other, where theories start to become horrendously  practical, where teenagers become adults and where those in charge find themselves questioned by those supposedly there to learn. And for elite universities where young mem and women go from being hothoused in single-sex private schools to suddenly engaging each other and alcohol away from family and control, things get heated very quickly.

Kendall Feaver takes these circumstances and brings them into a world where instant social media commentary serves to inflame things and get outrage to speed ahead of any attempts to deal with the real-world issues, where brutal things happen in the names of real justice and when people can find themselves in over their head before they're ready. It's a play full of ideas, without easy answers, heated and thoughtful and about the penalties everybody suffers when they let their actions get ahead of care and intention. 

Leading as two key combatants are Emily Halvea and Fiona Press - Halvea the young activist full of passion and unsure what should happen, just that someone should do something, Press as the older member of the system who finds herself trapped between an institutional role and her own human integrity. Both give passionate engaging performances that force the audience to understand them even as they both make choices that cause more trouble for them. Julia Robertson as the centre of their arguments, the victim who's being further victimised as her life becomes a cause of contention, keeps focus as a character whose marginalisation is almost the point. Jane Phegan plays two different mothers with emotional truth and Mark Parugio and Tony Cogan play two different men from different eras both caught up in the course of events. 

Director Tessa Long uses the small Stables stage well in moving the story forward with speed and clarity, using some creative stylisation for a few moments to bring the wider world into a simple room with two chairs, and gives the play suitable scope. It's an engrossing thought provoking ride into the frontlines of feminist debate that manages to deal with hot topics in a way that never lets rage take over from thought. Kendall Feaver's debut play "the Almighty Sometimes" a few years ago was an accomplished debut - this is a development of skill that's surprising but very much appreciated.

Happy Days, Red Line Productions, Old Fitz Theatre - 5 Nov-30 Nov 21

 

This is only the second Samuel Beckett I've seen on stage (after seeing a "Godot" sometime in the 2000s) - which is probably enough to write me off as a theatrical dilettante if by some reason you hadn't done so already (I have at least read "Endgame" at some point).  He's one of those playwrights who's a bit of a monolith and an epitome of a certain kind of tragi-comic-life-in-the-time-of-apocalyptic-despair-type of play. In this case, it's an almost-monologue (one bonus performer makes brief appearances and unrevealing grunts from time to time) of a woman stuck in a mound of, in this production, black slag and detritus, trying to keep going through days that seem from the outside increasingly purposeless and doomed. We're confronted with the shallow rituals and the choice to survive just a bit longer, and how these rituals serve her or don't serve her, and her just-over-the-slag-heap-partner.

It's an ambiguous text which partially feels like a tribute to resistance and partially feels like a pure exploration of surviving in hellish circumstances, and this production plays into the ambiguity, Belinda Giblin a shiny positive face who only occasionally lets the stresses blink through and who maintains strength even with half, then later, almost of her body language eliminated.  In the intimate location of the Old Fitz you can feel every breath, see every glance, and it's an exposing piece of drama. all the way thorough to the unsurprisingly grim ending. For obvious reasons, it's not necessarily going to be many people's idea of a good night out, but as an experience of a major writer's work it's a very strong example of how it works.

The Boomkak Panto, Belvoir Street Theatre - 20 Nov-23 Dec 21

 

A big goofy piece of crowd-pleasing nonsense for the end-of year slot, this is at the same a lot of good fun and a little bit of a monstrous elephantine empty creature of self-indulgence, depending on how you look at it. Simultaneously a spoof of panto-values and a celebration of them, while telling an old-as-the-hills tale of small-town people standing up to a big out-of-town-developer and discovering their own values while that happens, taking all this all on has meant this stretches to around two-and-a-half-hours, while probably having about half that time worth of workeable content. Admittedly this is a show that admits all its flaws as it goes, but somehow it seems some of this stuff really should have been dropped during rehearsals to give a tighter show rather than a bundle of loose-ends that only manages to be as delightful as it thinks it's being about 50% of the time. 

Virginia Gay has certainly written herself a hell of a role as the weary stage-manager and person-who-actually-knows-about-pantos-but-fears-them. And in her two set pieces, one per act, she goes to town and makes them work. What comes between them, though, is a lot of loose plotting that doesn't quite distract -would-be-charming-fumbling ends up feeling a bit strained. Around her is a varied mix of performers far too often having to do the heavy-work of carrying the over-familiar plotting only occasionally getting to reach moments of transcendance (the act two performance of a familiar Tina Arena classic being one of those). There are also a few too many jokes that are going for a big audience "woo" of "we agree with the sentiment behind this joke", rather than, you know, the think a joke is meant to go for, which is "ha". 

I'm being probably a little grinchy about this-  there is some very good fun in here. There's also stuff that goes on way too long for too little effect and could have been trimmed in week 2 of rehearsals. I think light-entertainment deserves more care and precision than this has. 

Julius Caesar, Sydney Theatre Company, Wharf Theatre - 15 Nov - 23 Dec 21

 

Julius Caesar was, for me, like most people, one of the first Shakespeare plays I studied at high school. I must admit it's still not one of my favourite Shakespeares, largely because it's got messy structural issues - the play peaks in Act III (out of 5), with the ending being a series of battles largely lead by a character who only shows up in Act IV (Octavian) - the kind of annoying lack-of-dramatic-development-of-key-characters thing that actual history tends to hand playwrights but  which can be massaged out more stylishly than Shakespeare particularly manages. As it happens, this is the first time I'd seen a production of it, in Kip Williams' somewhat bells-and-whistles filled production (with a cast of three playing multiple roles, in the round with a box of video screens projecting a lot of the action in close up, filmed largely by the cast). 

Surprisingly, this is a production that brought me closer to the play and made me love it more. The actors do stirling work, swapping between multiple roles smoothly and effectively giving performances scaled to both close-up and opposite-side of the stage, with clever transitions and choices defining when the screens will take precedence versus when the actor-on-stage is the focus. The costumes move between period and style in clever ways, with different sections having different emphasis. The central forum speeches of Brutus and Antony are a particular highlight, with the play very much pivoting on this point, but the show doesn't lose momentum after these moments, springing creative choices that keep the action constantly engaging.

Standing out in the centre of much of the action is Zahra Newman, largely playing Brutus. the moral centre of the play, as the one caught between family history, personal loyalties and honour as he chooses to buy into a murderous conspiracy to prevent tyranny and lives to see the results. She has the intensity right where it should be, emotionally true and engrossing (she also seems to be required to do a pretty large piece of crew-work that is, as all good big-scale-crew-work should be, completely invisible and looks like magic). In the showy trio of Caesar, Cassius and Octavian, Ewan Leslie knows just how to individuate all three with a voice, a piece of body language and a change of the angle of the sweater hanging over his shoulders. Geraldine Hakewill has Mark Antony's killer setpiece of a speech in the centre of the play and absolutely makes it her own, even at the slightly extended length it gets here (as she begins to channel other pieces of familiar rhetoric and drag them into the increasingly demagogic speech, as we see how political gamesmanship is played. 

It's a production that makes big bold choices and commits to them strongly, knowing just when to use a particular device and when to let it go. There's distinct transitions between design aesthetics here that know just when they have to happen and makes them appear smooth and effortless, such that you arrive at a point thinking "how did we get here" rather than anything feeling laboured or rough. This is a production that feels speedy and loaded with ideas yet never feels overwhelming or incomprehensible. It's a major achievement that serves performers and audiences well. It opened my eyes to a play I used to consider the safe choice for high school students because it was the Shakesperare play wit the fewest obvious sexual references. I'm deeply happy I made time for this.

Shows I wish someone would do #2 - The Inheritance

 

Ok, it's going to be at least another month or two before I get to see anything on stage anywhere so I may as well do another installment in the series. This is one where nobody in Australia has yet done a production, and I can't necessarily guarantee it'd be box office for anyone, given that while it was a London success it somewhat tanked on Broadway ... plus there are other issues which I'll get into. Never the less, I really love this, all three times I've read it in the last three years. 

It's the story of a group of gay men in New York during the second half of the 2010s. Inspired and bouncing off the plot of E.M. Forster's "Howard's End", it looks at different generations of men growing up in a world where their forbears were largely taken by the AIDS crisis, dealing with love and sex and life without a firm history of how these things are meant to be done Matthew Lopez tells the tale in a mix of direct-address, scenes of wit and pain and angst and anger, and long rhapsodic monologues that delve into gay life honestly and without apology. There's clear acknowledgement of the source material with E.M Forster present to criticize and be criticized in return by the current generation of gay men, and there's scenes that reach beyond to capture recent social history in the strongest ways.

There are risks and limitations. The story is told over two parts, both around three hours in playing time, and the cast is overwhelmingly male - only one actress appears in the play, and she doesn't appear until the last act of the second part (though she does get a multiple page monologue to chew on). And it is six hours spent with reasonably-well-off Manhattanites talking about themselves in ways that may feel excessively navel-gazing to people who aren't into that (I, needless to say, am very into that, but I realize I'm not everybody and don't necessarily represent a budget-recouping demographic). Never the less the script really does ring my bell in every possible way and it's the kind of rich theatrical meal I can't wait to dive into when it shows up, hopefully, on the season of STC or Belovir or the Old Fitz in Sydney in the next couple of years. It's the kind of thing I ache for, and I hope the world comes back together and we're all back in theatres where we're supposed to be again

I liked it but I didnt know what the f@!k it was about, Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre, July 30-Aug 1

 

Joel Bray's work-in-progress show is a mixture of standup and contemporary dance, using his skills in both fields to explore how audience reactions to contemporary dance, with the assistant of a musician, Jess Green (aka Pheno). I must admit I'm only a casual viewer of contemporary dance - I have occasionally thought about going deeper in but between the ticket costs of your average Sydney Dance Company or Bangarra show and my own lack of familiarity, this capsule piece provides a fun way to explore the field with a bit more knowledge and entertainment. This is clearly a work-in-progress show - a couple of bits need a little bit of tightening and development, but the concept and the passion is there with a vengeance and Bray is the right performer to do this kind of Contemporary Dance Missionary work. This is a very fun night out.

I've been meaning to ask you, Canberra Youth Theatre, The Street Theatre and Critical Stages Touring, The Street Theatre, 8-10 July

 This is stunning theatre, full stop. Youth theatre can often be considered a ghetto or a training exercise for "The real thing", but this is clever, thought out work that absolutely belongs to the 17 young performers aged 9-13. Devised by The Good Room, a team of two Brisbane-based director/creatives, Daniel Evans and Amy Inghram, this show uses questions asked by kids of adults, and a couple of questions adults have asked back to kids, to provide a show that looks at the big questions of life, death and the human experience through a stunningly different lens. Plus songs and dances and interactive stuff.

The cast of 17 work as a true ensemble of individuals, all getting a chance to show their personalities and to embody the voices of the various poll responders, named and anonymous. For most of them, it's their first show, but there's no hesitancy or reluctance from any of them - they throw themselves into the show full throttle with energy, authority, charm and funky dance moves. For that I congratulate all of them. 

I also congratulate the multiple directors and creatives for building a show that is cohesive, insightful, emotional, spectacular and moving. There's some astonishing moments of ligting design and video design in the latter part of the show from Jason Glenwright and Craig Wilkinson which needs to be acknowledged, but this is a fine team effort from everybody involved. 

Canberra Youth Theatre is certainly kicking goals between this and "Young Girls Alone in the Woods" a few months ago. The next generation of Canberra and Australian Theatre is looking amazing. 

The Penelopiad, Papermoon and Crouching Giraffe, Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre - 7-17 July

 

I must admit I've never read a Margaret Atwood book or watched either of the TV series based on her work ("The Handmaids Tale" and "Alias Grace"), so this is my first look at her work. She strikes me as doing the novel-to-play transition better than most writers, using one of the world's oldest performed narratives as a basis for speculation about the inner life of Penelope and her maids, those left behind while Odysseus went to Troy in "The Illiad" then took a long trip on his way back in "The Odysey". Using the format of a reflective Penelope in Hades looking back at the life she once led, with the maids as Greek chorus and reflection of the costs of her actions, we get a female-led look at the lives of those normally kept in the background of a grand heroic narrative. 

Kate Blackhurst's production brings this thrillingly to life - her 13 performers weaving in and out of different roles telling an epic story of mythological magic and petty jealousies, brutality and love, victories and sacrifices. There's a true sense of grandeur in the production, played in front of a giant Macrame backdrop designed by Cate Clelland, reflecting the weaving which is to be such an essential part of the narrative. Elaine Noon is Penelope, handling a marathon role who is pretty much always the centre of the narrative, whether telling her tale or reacting to the maids and their accusations, their songs and their behaviours with skill, compassion, care and humour. The dozen maids work as a unit so well it feels brutal to pick out individuals, though they pick out moments as individual characters in the narrative, whether it be Heidi Silberman's braggart Odysseus, Carolyn Eccles' extremely passive-aggressive nurse Euryclea, Martha Russell's headstrong Telemachus, Victoria Dixon's narcissistic Helen (yes, THAT Helen),  Sarah Hull's mystical Niad Mother, Sue Gore Phillips' self-important mother-in-law Anticlea, or the half dozen other small roles. It's a strong production using the power of a true ensemble in dramatic ways, effective in its narrative power.

Adding to the richness of the evening are Brooke Thomas's choreography, giving a strong ritualistic sense to the evening, plus Glenn Gore Phillips' musical settings of Atwood's words which allow the chorus to give glorious voice to songs of mourning, songs of innuendo and songs of reflection. Annie Kay's costumes provide visual richness and variety in allowing the cast to slip in and out of roles and providing a mixed palate for the story to play on.

Altogether this is a great night of theatre, thoroughly absorbing and well worth the watch 

The Governor's Family, Canberra Rep, Theatre 3 - 30 June-17 July

 

When I saw it in 1997, "The Governor's Family" seemed to me a play of too much ambition failing to hit many of its targets effectively. Dealing with the legacies of Australian Colonialism in a vice-regal house near the turn of an earlier century, the polished Mountgarrets struggle against the emerging colony, four years before Federation, and its inhabitants, both the indigenous originals and the emerging white working class fighting for their own rights in a strongly stratified community. The older Europeans, Howard and Helena, hang onto their traditions and attempt to impose it on the next generation, while the younger children, wild with the privileges' their rank has given them, attempt to engage with the community around them in flailing, half-competent gestures that hinder as much as help those they try to engage with. Beatrix Christian writes in a rich, meaty theatrical style full of gothic foreboding, hidden secrets, pulpy Victorian-era language and emotional yearning, as the struggles meet with eventual disaster for everyone. There's enough material here for three or four plays, unfortunately none of them entirely get enough emphasis to come through clearly.

25 years later, I appreciate the richness of the text more, however I recognise the challenges of the play, as it requires a lot from a cast to capture a script that moves from drawing-room-wit to working-class political rhetoric to disturbing gothic fable, never quite settling on a single tone for very long. The cast of 6 and the director, Tony Llewellyn-Jones, handle the tonal shifts effectively, even presenting the most disturbing material head-on and with integrity (this is not necessarily going to be the easiest play for a Rep Audience - at my performance, there was a definite number of audience members not returning for Act Two). There's great strength from Peter Holland as the imperious governor, aware of his past sins and determined to do what's right, unaware of how this may effect his position, and Antonia Kitzel's Helena matches him in inner strength, even as the script has her drifting off into laudanum-induced fantasies. The twins have an easy engaging style to them, Caitlin Baker's more direct, almost Katherine Hepburnish Lara, and Robbie Haltiner's easily lead romantic Gerald. As the two outsiders, Kiara Tomkins manages well with Frances's often fairly cryptic dialogue which tends to wander between abstraction and outrage, while Jack Casey's Tammy Lee Mackenzie has a direct charm as the one practical, capable person onstage, comfortably positioned to be ready for the future. 

Andrew Kay's design is gorgeous and manages the shifting challenges of the script with aplomb, similarly Chris Ellyard's lighting and Neville Pye's sound design capture the mood and emotions of the piece. This is an intriguing production that wrestles with a challenging text, delivering it in a clear and strong manner.

The 7 Stages of Grieving, Sydney Theatre Company, Playhouse, Canberra Theatre

 

Wesley Enoch and Deborah Mailman's one woman show, "Seven Stages of Grieving", has outlived both of them, getting several productions with new actresses and directors discovering new elements of their original series of scenes looking at the topic of Indigenous grief - of the losses the last 225 years have inflicted on the traditional owners of this country, and of the scars that still remain. Elaine Crombie as actress and Shari Sebbens as director give this a new interpretation, played on a stage covered in mounds of dirt covered in shells, with Crombie providing the heart and soul behind the original words, providing humour, tears, rage and determination in her exploration of the text. There's also an added coda looking at the possible paths ahead, with 7 actions that can be taken to help heal, and like the best additions it feels like it should have been there all along. It's a powerful evening, both as storytelling and as a demonstration of Crombie's considerable skills as she engages and draws her audience in, making the show completely her own. 

Grace Under Pressure, Alternative Facts, The Q

 

This docu-drama comes from a series of interviews conducted in 2017 with various health care professionals about the stresses and pressures of the job - using largely their own words to tell the stories about the joys and the frustrations of having life and death decisions in your hands in an industry where often the worst care is held out to their own employees. It's a confronting set of tales, with shocking moments throughout of cruelty, bullying, emotional destruction and occasional personal dignity and self-respect. Simply staged by director David Williams, performed by a strong ensemble of four playing both the various interview participants and occasionally the interviewers, on a simple yet powerful set by Isabel Hudson, this is stunning direct theatre, storytelling at its rawest and most powerful. Williams has a strong foundation in this kind of verbatim theatre, being one of the foundation members of Version 1.0, who a decade ago were turning government inquiries into powerful theatre such as "CMI (Certain Maritme Incident") about the Tampa enquiry and "Deeply Offensive and Utterly Untrue" about the Coles Weapons-for-wheat inquiry and in this one he takes a more perisomal yet equally powerful look at the way society fails to care about those who care for us.

Dogged, Griffin theatre, The Stables

 

This is an intriguing three hander, the story of a woman, a dog and a dingo in the mountains of Gippsland, encountering each other in an area of wild country and confronting issues of humanity versus nature, about the hidden history of the area and the uncaring nature of the wilderness. The trio of performers are directed tightly by Declan Greene, with both dog and dingo given additional movement by Kirk Page giving both performers an animalistic intensity that stuns. If I have any criticisms it's that possibly the gear shift in the last ten minutes feels a bit clunky - it's important material that needs to be told, but it doesn't entirely fit in with the rest of the play as it's currently written. This is engaging,confrontational material, done strongly and, as my first introduction to post-Lee-Lewis Griffin it's a strong start. 

The Cherry Orchard, Belvoir

 

Chekhov's final play, "The Cherry Orchard" is a play that seems often to get overtones both of his ensuing death and the Russian Revolution shortly after - though in many ways it's more a comedy about people failing to live up to their responsibilities judging those around them able to manage better - about desperation, debt, saying goodbye to the past, about those hurt by the failures of the wealthy and those who find themselves able to overcome it. Eamon Flack's production feels nicely autumnal, on a minimalist set that finds clever ways to shift emphasis. It's performed by a strong multiracial ensemble of performers, with clever choices throughout to bring Chekov's melencholic tone across, with comedy, lust, romance and failures throughout to keep us intrigued. It's a longish evening (2 hrs 35) but handles the pace well, with all the little moments that tell so much about the characters highlighted. 

The Appleton Ladies Potato Race, Ensemble Theatre, Playhouse, Canberra Theatre

 

This charmer of a small-scale Australian play is a great 5-hander comedy for an ensemble of women, describing the events when a recently-returned doctor upsets the balance in a small country town when she begins to question how the annual potato race shares its prize money between the men's and the women's event. Melanie Tait's script gives a rich array of small-country town characters and multiple narrative twists and turns, and never condescends to the characters to make them simple stock types - they all have different layers and are capable of surprising and delighting us. 

There's strong performances throughout the cast, from Valerie Bader's stoic and stern Bev (Bader has a great way with a dry one-liner), Merridy Eastman's cheerfully friendly Barb, Sharon Millerchip's reluctant agitator Penny, Amber McMahon's slightly trashy Nikki, and Sapidah Kian's supportive Rania. Priscilla Jackman directs this tightly and charmingly on Michael Scott-Mitchell's clever set, flowing the action together in a way that makes a fun night out. Catch it before it goes!

Rope, Canberra Rep, theatre 3

 

Patrick Hamilton's 1929 thriller has had very long legs for a thriller which is also very much of its time - in the post-war and post-Oscar-Wilde Trial era, when the bright young things partied seemingly unaware of the consequences, where fashion and behaviour broke from Victorian staidness and, after the Russian Revolution, new intellectual paradigms were being trialed all over the world. Hamilton's tense thriller reflects both the thoughts of its era and of its writer, a alcoholic with a distinct strain of melancholy, as he morphed a recent popular murder case into a story of power, ethics and thrills.

The basic setup, where we know going in that Brandon and Granillo have just committed murder and the challenge is to see how they will be caught, became the basis of every Columbo ever, and gives us the suspense of knowing more than those who are onstage at any one time (we even get a chance to see the vital clues being spotted by our amateur sleuth for the evening, war-veteran intellectual gadabout, Rupert Cadell, well in advance of them being presented to the villains). While the climax has Hamilton a little too fond of overly-long monologues (including a romantic tribute to the hour of 10:35 which is simultaneously gorgeous but feels self-indulgent), it pays off emotionally as it becomes apparent how the murder has effected those involved. 

Ed Wightman's production captures the classic thriller setpieces - tensions at near-discoveries, confrontations and near-escape - but also the emotional content that lies beneath - the disintegration of the two villains as they attempt to hide their crimes, the seemingly casual connections between the strangers they invite to a party over the chest containing a corpse, and the melancholy of a war survivor trying to live with what he's done in wartime. In a lush Quentin Mitchell set there's a strong sense of period and emotional temperature, as the cast regularly trek back and forth to the drinks cabinet in an attempt to maintain decorum that simultaneously slips away with each drink.

The two villains have the majority of stage time - Pippin Carrol's precise, fussy Brandon, obsessed with controlling what's going on, and Josh Wiseman's desperate Granillo, a bundle of nerves from the offset as he's all too aware what he's done and is falling apart trying to survive with that knowledge. Ryan Street's Rupert Cadell captures both the ennui and the inquisitiveness of the character - he's an imposing figure who constantly draws attention. As the more frivolous pair, Callum Wilson and Alex McPherson provide delightful light relief - Wilson is sweetly dunderheaded, while McPherson has the manner of a gadfly, her mind flipping around constantly in a world of small talk and gossip. Saban Lloyd Berrell as the father of the corpse, brought in as part of Brandon's plan to skirt with danger, provides suitable melancholy in his final moments but is also a strong solid presence, while Anne Freestone as the socially awkward aunt is hilarious in every brief statement and awkward flop into a chair. 

It's a rich evening of black comedy, intellectual drama, murderous thrills and twists and turns, giving an old-fashioned thriller new life on the stage. Absolutely worth catching.

Little Girls Alone in the Woods, Canberra Youth Theatre, Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre

 

This plays with myth and folklore in a way that is invigorating, using it's large, mostly female, ensemble to tell a story about the rejection of "civilised" society and what happens to those who break away. It's not so much  a straight telling of Euripides "The Bacchae" as it is a thematic reflection that uses the core ideas in a modern setting, as a small country town finds its young girls disappearing into the Bush, with those remaining behind finding more and more restrictions in place.  There's clever choices in Morgan Roses script and in how it builds tension- seeing both from the perspective of the schoolkids seeing their friends slowly disappear, with girls increasingly restricted in the name of safety, and the perspective of the girls in the Bush, giving way to their wilder impulses while never quite certain what their rebellion might mean or what to do next. 

Director Luke Rogers creates a flowing intelligent production with precision and care - creating a rich ensemble of performers who blend into a true equal ensemble.  The set design by Aislinn King gives a new perspective on the courtyard as a space, giving it a different dimension. Helen Wotjas' costume design creates the two different worlds of the play, showing those left behind in sharp school uniforms while the girls in the woods have pyjamas and casual wear celebrating their freedom. 

This is a great launch to Canberra youth theatre's 2021 season, and I'm greatly anticipating what they"ll do in the rest of the year. They've got an ambitious and intriguing season lined up and if they execute the rest as well as they executed this, we'll have a rewarding set of experiences lined up

A German Life, John Frost for The Gordon Frost Organisation, Playhouse, Canberra Theatre Centre

 

Christopher Hampton's adaptation of a 2016 Austrian Documentary about Brunhilde Pomsel, a one woman narration of a witness to the rise, fall and aftermath of the third Reich, is a gift to the right actress, but a peculiarly difficult one - it requires a performer who can draw you in through sheer, unrelenting ordinariness  - someone apparently just like anybody else, telling a matter of fact story that becomes astonishing in how close a person can be to pure naked horror without apparently recognising it until it is way too late to do anything about it. 

Robyn Nevin has that gift of appearing average while being anything but. On a simple set design resembling a 2000s nursing home room, Brunhilde  takes us into one of the 20th centuries essential horrors, while proclaiming how little she really saw and could have done. Her regrets register as apparently real and heartfelt, but it's impossible not to question her and to be dragged down the rabbit hole of what more she could have, should have done 

Neil Armfield's staging tells this simply, handing the stage to Nevin, accompanied at the side by Catherine Finnis's cellist, with occasional video overlays of Third Reich images to show what's lying behind Brunhilde's simple statements, reminding us what this all came to. It's a virtuoso 80 minutes or so and confronting in where it leaves us, wondering how close we are to falling into the same traps, how willing we are to lie to ourselves that we have no idea what's going on, when we can see very clearly the evils that lie all around us.

PS. I will note that I booked for this one somewhat late, due to both already having other shows booked in to see this week, and due to a somewhat eye-watering initial ticket price. I ended up booking in after a discount became available on Thursday, but I'm still a little wary of that initial ticket price becoming a recurring thing.

Fun Home, Sydney Theatre Company, Ros Packer Theatre

 

This musical version of Alison Bechdel's autobiographical graphic novel premeired off broadway at the Public Theatre in 2013,and I was luck enough to see it during that first run on October 31st (the review, if you're interested, is at https://cantheatrewatcher.blogspot.com/2013/11/fun-home-public-theatre-off-broadway.html)

It's a show I've loved from that point and have been impatiently awaiting the Australian Premiere (originally planned to be shared between the Melbourne Theatre company and Sydney Theatre company last year, but in a post-COVID world moved to just being an STC production thus far, though allegedly a Melbourne run is planned for next year). It's examination of two different generations of homosexuals, living in one family - about Alison and her emergent understanding of her own desires, both as a young girl experiencing the way the world expects her to  be and finding it uncomfortable, and as a college student finally having her first big romance and giving way to lust; and also about her father Bruce, deeply closeted and always on the verge of losing everything that matters to him by his actions when he gives ways to his desires - and frequently imposing his sense of the order he's incapable of maintaining for himself on the rest of the family.  

The STC production brings this to its biggest venue and comes up with a few interesting reconceptions - a basic design of the Bechdel house, spread across the floor and with an upper study, revolving to reveal a garden area and two spaces on the side to represent areas like Alison's college dorm room and dad's cadaver slab for when he's working in the family funeral home (abbreviated to"Fun home" by the kids, hence the title). The structure of the show sees the adult Alison constantly observing and illustrating moments of her past, seeing both the 9 year old version of herself and the 18 as they find themselves at odds with their family and the rest of the world as they come to realise their true natures, and contrasting her discovering her freedom with the increasing restrictions her father puts on himself, the way that he tries to impose the image of perfection on his family in ways that constantly backfire. 

This is a wonderfully cast show, top to bottom - starting with the three Alisons - Lucy Maunder as the inquisitive, engaging adult Alison, Margie McKenna as the gauchely teenage middle Alison (her giggle in the middle of the line "Who needs dignity" during "Changing My Major to Joan" instantly endears her to me), and Karalina Clarke as the 9 year old realising that she doesn't really want to wear the pretty party dresses her dad tries to squeeze her into. Similar strength comes from Adam Murphy, playing Bruce on the razors edge of being truly monstorous in how he treats the rest of his family, but ultimately a victim of his own internalised prejudices and self-hatred. Marina Prior is one of those actresses who's often been written off as a gorgeous singing voice, but this time paired to a role that gives that voice something to sorrow for, something to regret, something to long for. Emily Halvea is a perfect Joan, the college first-love simultaneously amused by and adoring of Alison.  

Musical Director Carmel Dean gets a gorgeous sound out of both the cast and the 7 piece orchestra, moving from the 70's pastiche of "Come to the Fun Home" (Jackson 5) or "Raincoat of Love" (Partridge Family) to the yearning balladry of "Ring of Keys", the sorrow of "Days and Days" or.... oh, look, this is a show that is all high points so just go see the damn thing and experience the wonder, pain, love and immense humanity on display. It's a musical that plays things real and true, that is all about matters of the heart, about chasing truth over escapism and about discovering yourself . It's superlative work, superlatively done, and is absolutely recommended to anybody

Don Juan, Slightly Isolated Dog, The Q

 

"Slightly Isolated Dog" are a New Zealand team who tour inventive versions of classic stories that are fortunately out of copyright enough to let them fool around with a little. In this mini-season, two of their shows are playing in fairly quick repertory, both lo-fi productions with extensive audience interaction (although non-threatening, Kiwi kind of audience interaction). For Don Juan, for whatever reason (probably because it's delightful, or possibly because the version of the story they're doing is closest to Moliere's "Dom Juan ou le Feste die pierre"), they perform using over the top french accents, in simple stylish modern costumes, in a traverse style up close to the audience, and romp the Don through several seductions, duels, songs, murders and his eventual highly catholic comeuppance over a fast and fun 60-or-so minutes - the role of the Don split across the cast and signified by a baseball cap, sunglasses and a portable speaker having his dialogue spoken by another cast member. 

The quintet of performers all have wonderful moments, from Jonathan Price's frequent bloody deaths, to Comfrey Sander's confrontation with a caddish audience member, to Andrew Patterson's bold dashing about the stage in quite substantial high heels, to Susie Berry's irritated nun, to Jack Buchanan's gasping reactions to the events going on around him, and the audince members are roped into providing additional entertainment, whether reacting to performers, engaging in conversation, taking on roles or providing scenery assistance (including a quite astonishing river escape sequence), and all in all this is a friendly version of a classic story with several delights, songs, diversions and hilarities.

Mamma Mia!, Free Rain Theatre Company, The Q

 

Abba is part of my foundation. Their victory at Eurovision happened 6 months after I was born, and it was a rare occasion when I was growing up when Abba wasn't on the LP somewhere (my parents and both sets of grandparents had a "best of abba" LP and various other singles available as comfort music for toddler Simon, and I got given "Abba the Album" and was taken to "Abba the Movie" shortly after my Brother was born). They've remained pretty inescapable, the combination of bouncy pop and emotional yearning in the background, and so, when I was first in London in 2001, it was inevitable that the one show I paid full-price tickets for was the musical that combined 23 Abba classics with a pretty reasonable plotline and some energetic performances. Since then, there's been two movies (the first one seen after the session of "The Dark Knight" I wanted to see was sold out, and subsequently shown to my husband relatively early in our relationship after I'd filled him with enough Galliano to not object to Pierce Brosnan, the second surpassing it by throwing in Cher, being better shot so that Croatia looks like a better Greek Island than the actual Greek island in the first movie and by generally being the Godfather 2 of jukebox musicals) and a couple of professional tours and now ... Queanbeyan!

In the fundamentals, this is a simple fun show, tying together the songs through splitting them across a dozen principals, divided into 4 seperate trios, three older women, three older men, three younger men, three younger women - the older group normally getting the more dramatic emotional songs, the younger the more bubblegum pop side of things. Given they've got the bulk of the more emotional material, the olders are generally written better, even though the men slightly suffer with getting songs obviously written for female voices (the one male-original-vocal song, "Does your mother know", is reshuffled to being female-led in an attempt to detoxify the somewhat creepy lyrics) though plot-originating Sophie does get a reasonable amount of personality as she searches for her unknown father through planning a meeting with her mum's three long-lost-lovers in the days before her wedding. 

Free Rain's production serves the material well, with a strong cast across the board. Jarrad West draws on the skills of the cast to personify the various cast-and-ensemble performers with a bit of life (special mention to Cole Hilder and Meagan Stewart for doing a lot with their particularly thin-written characters and giving them a bit of verve and personality), Michelle Heine choreographs up a storm with bachannaliac club bangers like "Gimme Gimme Gimme" and "Voulez Vous" and Alexander Unikowski's band gives energetic performances of the score. Louiza Blomfield leads the cast as Donna in the iconic dungarees, giving the character a realistic middle-aged exhaustion while giving tireless, peerless vocals, from the vengeful "Mamma Mia" to the tender "Slipping through my fingers". Jessica Gowing, understudying for Sophie, slots in perfectly, playing a young woman just on the edge of over-naivety but determined to find her own way. As goofy sidekicks Helen McFarlane and Tracy Noble steal every scene they're in, McFarlane with sophistication and style, Noble with reckless charm (though she's in danger of overmilking the pause before "Take a Chance on Me"). As the three potential dads, Isaac Gordon has effortless charm as Sam, Mark Maconachie is a bashful pleasure as former-headbanger-Harry, and Paul Sweeney shows both presence and softness as the adventurous Bill. Grayson Woodham's Pepper is a little scenestealer whenever he gets a moment, and the ensemble all find individual moments to add life to the show. 

This is pure pleasure done right, and it's joyous to sit in the middle of a packed house at the Q sucking it all up. Go again! 

You're Safe 'Til 2024: Deep History, Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre

 David Finnigan is one of those Canberra Artists who've exploded once he's left Canberra - his play "Kill Climate Deniers", which I described elsewhere on this blog as the only play to be improved by dramaturgical assistance by Andrew Bolt, combined big action movie ridiculousness with deep moral interrogation about the future of humanity, complex statistical thought and commentary on its own existence, and took Sydney's Griffin theatre by storm back in 2018 after an inaugural season as part of the You Are Here festival in Canberra. This piece, part of an ambitious 6-show cycle that will apparently all play together in 2024 somewhere somehow, looks at the last 75,000 years of human history, the events of Christmas 2019 in Canberra and its surrounds, Finnigan's father, the early days of his own theatrical career, his obsession with contemporary pop diva Caroline Polocheck and the environmental catastrophe that awaits us all. Accompanied by Reuben Ingall providing musical support, a large funnel and a power point presentation, he drags us into a story that's wide ranging yet specific and emotive, personal yet global, funny yet heartbreaking 

The question may be asked "is this theatre". Well, yes it is - it's storytelling at its most basic, us being the tribe listening to a master storyteller - Finnigan knows how to drag us in, to swerve and vary his narrative to keep us guessing where it's going next, to find an attention-grabbing angle or image, to use metaphors in intriguing manners. It's a skillful piece and I'm very glad Canberra's courtyard theatre is fulfilling its potential here as a place where artists can experiment, develop and perfect their craft.

Playing Beatie Bow, Wharf 1, Sydney Theatre Company

 Classic novel adaptations seem to be an easy way to bring box office for theatre companies - recently we've had "My Brilliant Career", further back it's "Grapes of Wrath", "To Kill a Mockingbird", "Dr Frankenstein"  and the forthcoming "Sense and Sensibility" locally, and interstate "Jasper Jones", "The Harp in the South", "Cloudstreet", "Portrait of Dorian Gray" and "Bliss". They give a familiar structure with room for the production crew to develop a narrative conceived in another form and bring it to new theatrical life. Some can also feel a bit risk-free, trading on familiarity, or give back less than they take from the source material - but at their best it can be thrilling to see a cast fall comfortably into the arms of a grand narrative

Kate Mulvaney's adaptation of "Playing Beatie Bow" is mostly in the latter category - telling Ruth PArk's story of a contemporary girl taken back to 1873 in Sydney's historic "The Rocks" area, it's a rollicking adventure of mysticism, romance, fate and strength. Mulvaney's adaptation brings the contemporary sequences from Park's 1980 to 2021 with skill, and also attempts to stretch the very Anglo-Celtic narrative to reflect a more inclusive historic Australia. This stretch does come at the cost of pushing the running time out to around 2 hours 50 minutes, and it feels like there might be a tigher, faster version of this story out there that's been lost to a show trying to accomplish more than it can naturally fit. 

Having said that, as a demo-reel for what the newly renovated Wharf 1 can do, it can't be beat. Using the full depth of a new massive space, Kip Williams creates gorgeous stage pictures on the David Fleischer's minimal set, with the help of Nick Schlieper's lighting, in a story that races from era to era, from cramped slum home to a cruise across the majestic Sydney Harbour. There's also powerful performancs, from Catherine Van-Davies as our lead, Abigail, a tormented teen with heart, energy and drive, from Sofia Nolan as the somewhat-feral Beatie Bow, from Heather Mitchell both as the embracing Granny and the socialite modern Grandma, from Rory O'Keefe as the adorable Himbo-ish Judah, from Claire Lowvering as the romantically longing Dovey, from Ryan Yeates as the impulsively snippy Gibby, from Tony Cogin as the unrestrained Mr Bow, from Guy Simon as the tormented Johhny Whites, and from Lena Cruz as Abigail's mum. 

This is a little bit indulgent but it's adorably indulgent, and it's a great show to wash over you - this was my first acquaintance with the story, and delving into its complexities was a deeply rewarding experience. If there were a couple of sharp tonal shifts, I'm not entirely sure that all of them aren't from the source material (in particular, the brothel sequence feels like the story is moving to a more Dikensian space than the rest of the story, but it's an entertaining sideline), and it's good to see something stretching itself with skill. A good start to a year of STC works

Stop Girl, Belvoir

Sally Sara's debt play takes the term "write what you know" to extremes - a drama about a returning foreign correspondent who finds the rhythms normal life a challenge after years away covering the events in Afghanistan, it uses simple staging and a set of strong performances to devastating effect.  It's impossible not to take a work like this as being deeply, profoundly personal, and Director Anna-Louise Sarks and her production team bring the work to life very strongly.

Designer Robert Cousins provides a nicely neutral, white space for the story to be enacted - a sheet of blankspace with a screen behind for projections as required. We start on the streets of Afghanistan, seeing reporter Suzie doing her day-to-day work on the streets, accompanied by a friend doing a puff piece about her and her Afghani translator. As she returns home we find her uncertain about how to handle day to day life but presenting the strong competent façade to friends, family, and ultimately a therapist, meanwhile helping her translator chase asylum in Australia. There's strong writing here, even though I'm not entirely sure the right choice on where to end the narrative was chosen (one of the underlying traumas turns out to be a lot more mundane and personal than the ones inherent in her place and location). Still, all central performances are strong - Sheridan Harbridge leverages her recent triumph in "Prima Facie" to create another tough professional young woman breaking under the weight of accumulated trauma,  very different from her previous work but still with a great ability to show the faultines. Amber McMahon is an endearing best friend, honest and with her own issues to play against Suzie's dramas, Toni Scanlon is an engaging mum, very frustratingly perceptive in the best ways, Mansoor Noor as the translator is charming and endearing as he opens up to new possibilities on his arrival in Australia, and Deborah Galanos presents the therapist as practical, direct and never willing to take the back foot Suzie wants her to. 

This is a new Australian play of unusual strength and it's directed with care and skill - design choices through the set, lighting and video design bring the narrative to life carefully and well. I was brought in and felt full after a strong theatrical meal.

Margaret Fulton: The Musical, Jally Entertainment, The Q

 This production is a touring version of a show that's been bouncing around various fringe festivals and smaller venues for about a decade, originally as "Margaret Fulton: Queen of the Dessert" back in 2012 with a cast of three - I honestly think keeping a title like that would have given better hints at the level of sophistication this show is going for, covering about 50 years of the life of Australia's queen of cookbooks in 80 odd minutes, with songs dedicated to things like Pressure Cookers, Jam and Bobby Limb as the plot rolls through her rise to success while surviving various husband's misdemenours, with advice from her mum and an old friend along the way. Writer Doug Macleod has a history largely in TV Sketch comedy like "The Comedy Company", "Fast Forward" and "Full Frontal" and composer Yuri Worontshak  has similarly been providing music for movies and TV shows associated with those teams for a while, and this is pretty much right in their field - not-too-demanding, not-too challenging, material which rises or falls on the strength of its performers, being elevated by a Magda Szubanski, a Gina Riley, a Jane Turner or a Marg Downey. 

Judy Hainsworth is a solid lead as Margaret, suitably natty in various conservative outfits with a powerful singing voice and a firm no-nonsense demeanour. Zoe Harlen as freewheeling friend Bea really doesn't get quite enough of an arc but manages to impress every time she shows up with her breezy manner, and Jessica Kate Ryan provides wide sage advice as Margaret's mum, mostly in ghostly form. The other three supporting cast roar through various roles as supporters, backupdancers, husbands, swinging Londoners and interlopers with speed and charm.

This is really middling material done by a reasonable cast, and honestly the reason I was seeing this is because I needed a fourth show in a subscription. But I've seen worse bonus-shows-to-fill-up-a-subscription at the Q before and this is a reasonably appealing undemanding night out.

Jersey Boys, Canberra Philharmonic, Erindale Theatre

 "Jersey Boys" is one of the better "jukebox" musicals, taking the song catalog of a famous band and wrapping a plot based on the history of the band around it. In this case, the plot's drawn from the previously not-very-well known story of how "The Four Seasons" rose to fame and combatted internal tensions, their own egos, family and money problems on their way to fame, fortune and glory Using a narrative structure that splits the telling into four, each section told by a different member of the group,  the original production benefitted from some propulsive staging from Des McAnuff as the story roars through around 30 years of personal history between the four band members, frequently not letting the audience break for applause after songs as the story keeps on roaring along. 

Philo's production captures a lot of the power of this, particularly through the performances of the lead four men, though it loses a bit on the propulsive staging - it's a little too indulgent of audience applause during the opening half which means you lose the magical explosion when the band finally hits the spotlight and the audience gets to let go of all that building tension immediately after "Sherry", and there's a couple of gaps between scenes which should be rolling into one another. The slower pace mean that it's possible to spot a few cheats in the storytelling - all three other band members manage to narrate story elements that really only relate to Frankie alone, describing things they shouldn't really know.

But all 4 leading men claim the stage with their various skills - Dave Smith is ingratiatingly sleazy as the self-proclaimed organiser Tommy DeVito,  Jonathan Rush goofily charming as songwriting genius Bob Gaudio, Zach Johnson lends a solid dependability to the harmonically skilled Nick Massi, and Jared Newell is miracle casting as the perfectly voiced, multi-octaved  Frankie Valli. There's also great support in the rest of the cast, between Bradley McDowell's flamboyant Bob Crewe, John Whinfield's energetic Joey, Jason McKenzie's intimidating Gyp DeCarlo, Nicole Wetselar, Kellee-Rose-Hand and Jessica Coote as three very different women in Frankie's life,  and elsewhere. 

Musically, this is a wonderful retro feast, with Caleb Campbell's orchestra sounding wonderful throughout, the harmonics of the four leads (plus 5 credited backup vocals) sounding clear and gorgeous. There's fine retro-performance moves in Madelyn White's choreography, some lovely costume choices from Jill McMullen and Chelsea DeRooy (in particular Bob Crewe's lounging pyjamas), a clear and smooth set from Ian Croker. It's a pretty solid presentation, I just wish it could have been a little bit tighter to achieve full impact.

Young Frankenstein, Hayes Theatre

 "Young Frankenstein: The Musical" is one of those shows that suffers somewhat from being a follow-up show to a huge success - in this case, it's the show Mel Brooks did after "The Producers". The original production hit Broadway in a giant-sized theatre and with then-record-high ticket prices, running a little over a year after uneven reviews. A recent London revision was trimmed down and drew better reviews but ran about as long. Now, slightly COVID Delayed, it hits the Hayes in a trim and ridiculously fun production inspired by equal parts Mel Brooks, High Fashion, surrealism and anything-for-a-laugh nonsense. 

The Hayes is a tiny theatre, and I've mentioned before one of the best way to work with that tinyness is, weirdly, to make it tinier by blocking bits of the theatre off. Isabel Hudson's set is a maze of twisty-turny escher-esque staircases, with plenty of hidden hideyholes for sudden appearances and disappearances. Despite the curtain adding a literal fourth wall, the performers never treat that too seriously, throwing in jokes referencing everything from star Matthew Backer's recent appearances on Play School, the obviously reduced cast of eight's inability to be a large angry mob when only two of the actors aren't occupied playing other roles, the ropey nature of some of the Transylvanian accents and the meandering plot. 

Matthew Backer gives the lead a nicely gormless innocence together with a fair amount of likability and intelligence, dealing with the shenanigans with exasperation and occasionally blinding rage. Ben Gerrard crossdresses gorgeously as blonde bombshell Inga, providing breathy lab assistance while looking good in a corset and filmy dress. Lucia Mastrantone as Frau Blucher has a great time looming, harranguing, and giving a great Marlena Dietrich in her solo. Shannon Dooley as madcap fiance Elizabeth is suitably ridiculous, glamorous and immaculate. Luke Leong-Tay's Igor is a a nonsensical sidekick with a good line in running gags; Amy Hack's Insector Kemp gives desperate inspiration to a character trying to find revenge and justice; Nick Eynaud's monster does a good job of not being upstaged by his spectacular costumes, either in his principal role or as the horse; and Olivia Chamralambous plays various and sundry roles with enthusiasm and vigour. 

There's continuous invention in Alexander Berlarge's staging (even when he has to invent reasons for characters to move beyond the curtain to allow scene changes), down to the spectacular deployment of ladles during "Roll in the Hay" and the clever uses of the many tiny exits. Andrew Warboys makes a 6 piece band sound rich, glorious and spooky, and Yvette Lee comes up with comic choreography that looks stylish and ridiculous. 

For all the skill deployed, there is still something where this is middling material being pushed as hard as possible - Brooks's score and script do feel like it's a tacked on and expanded version of the movie script without a lot of new interesting things added - everything interesting about the additions tends to be an invention of Berlage and his cast. And the delightfulness of the show feels like the kind of thing that works up close and personal in the Hayes and would disappear in a bigger theatre should this end up touring. But I think I can still say this is a damn good time and a delight to see.

Lamb, Red Stitch and Critical Stages, The Q

 First you get the wolf, then you get the sheep.... at least, that's how the Q appears to be programming. This three hander marks some familiar territory - three siblings are reunited after the death of their mother in a remote country town, dealing with the implications of their common history and planning the next steps of their lives. Played on Greg Clarke's simple but effective set (a kitchen on one side, a pub on the other and a horizon and cyclorama in the middle), Jane Bodie's script employs a series of flashbacks to take us from post-funeral departures back to the events of the days before, unpacking the issues lingering between the siblings, big and small, and providing a few mysteries to be resolved. Mark Seymour's folkish songs fit in naturally, not making this a full-blown musical but very much in that "play with songs" territory where characters have a musical background and will occasionally sing at one another in a shared language.

It's a nice, meat and potatoes piece of drama - a familiar but well-made play setting up, exploring and resolving tensions with style and economy touchingly and movingly. The three performers carry their roles well - hitting all the tense and tender notes the piece requires.

I don't want to go on too long describing this show as a lot of the pleasure is in seeing how the story unwraps itself, in its small beautiful way finding gentle truths and making small personal discoveries, but I will say this is a perfectly polished gem with a gentle heart and a whole lotta soul.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Canberra Rep, Theatre 3

 I'll be honest upfront, this is not my favourite Tennessee Williams play. In the context of his works it lands around the point where his plays start to become semi-self-parodies, a mixture of southern sterotypes yelling around a grand mansion in a "who's going to inherit the estate" story that plays like a thinner version of Lillian Hellman's "The Little Foxes", also slightly distorted by Williams deciding that the first two acts should largely take the form of two of the most dynamic characters, Maggie and Big Daddy, having a conversation with the sullen, moody, undemonstrative Brick, with the third act carrying the weight of the actual plotting (and being the part of the play most likely to get rewritten, with about four different versions of Act 3 in circulation). 

Rep's production does reasonably solidly by the material, due to some strong casting decisions and a gorgeous Cate Clelland set design. Victoria Tyrell Dixon's Maggie is compelling, mercurial, rageful and able to handle the vast amounts of material Act one gives her, consistently fascinating and attention-drawing. Michael Sparks carries most of Act two on his back as the irritable patriarch, only slightly aware how little he's really connecting to his son as he continues to impart his opinions. Teig Saldana plays Brick as he is written, irate and compelled more by the desire for alcohol and his lost memories of greatness than anything he's actually in the room with, but he manages to handle the shifts in act three better than most versions I've seen, and keeps a character who I've found irritating in the past from completely losing me. Lanie Hart's Mae has a wig that does a lot of the performing for her, a contained, conniving bob that shows her small-town avaricious self, in a pristine white dress with a maternity bump, constantly assured she's the one who knows best. Ryan Erlandsen as her husband-and-partner-in-crime, the odious Gooper, has all the self-important pride the character needs. Liz St Clair Long as the hyper-emotional Big Mama rolls with every insult that Sparks throws her way, convinced her smothering-kind-of-love is secretly welcomed by everybody.

It's inherent in the writing here, but it never quite feels sensible that all these people would be rushing into the bedroom of Brick and Maggie to lay out cunning plots and schemes, but there's a strong blocking sense around the space giving characters space to do their manouvres without losing the connections between them. Cate Clelland's set gives us a gorgeous mansion bedroom, dominated at centre by the liquor cabinet where Brick is constantly drawn to just one more drink. 

In short, while this isn't a play I love, it's quite a solid production of it, showing it off to good advantage with a solid cast.

Wolf Lullaby, Echo Theatre, The Q

 Hilary Bell's 1996 play is probably still her masterpiece, a provocative confrontation about a 9 year old girl in a small town in Tasmania who's implicated in a murder investigation, and the effects this has on her parents and the cop investigating. Trapping the audience in with the cast of 4, we're forced to confront the disturbing nature of childhood games, the fears of parenting and the implications of justice, over a tight 90 minutes. 

Jordan Best last directed this play back in 2006 in a tightly controlled Street 2 production, and returns to the play with enthusiasm, letting her new cast find their own moments and emphases as the four find themselves sinking further and further into the darkness - the investigating cop whose professional manner starts to fall apart as he realises the implications of what he's finding, the mother who just wants to do the right thing, despite not quite knowing what that thing might be, the distant father who decides to double down on his distance, and the little girl whose night terrors may give indications of something else entirely None seek to play for sympathy - Rachel Pengilly's transformation into a 9 year old is astonishingly real as Lizzie is by turns inquisitive, playful, terrified and devious. Natasha Vickery's Angela takes over the weight of the second half of the play with strength as it becomes harder for her to balance her roles as a responsible person and a mother. Craig Alexander gives his cop an anchor of inherited authority only to lay out the cruellest moment in the last minutes of the play as he pushes Angela's buttons hard. Joel Harwood never plays for sympathy as the father whose disengagement becomes only more obvious as the story plays out, desperate to ignore what is in front of him. 

The other production elements - Chris Zuber's simple junkyard set, Jacob Aquilina's stark lighting, and Matthew Webster's chilling design - all add to the tension and draw us in further. 

A great provocative chiller on a February night, this is theatre that should not be missed - something to disturb the mind and the heart.

Beautiful Thing, New Theatre

 Johnathan Harvey's 1993 comedy does feel like it's every gay directors first play - or at least it's shown up on a lot of gay directors resumes since then. It's a gentle love story between two 15 year old boys on a South London housing estate, and given the gentle sense of humour and the working class background it plays slightly as a queer Willy Russell play. At the time it premiered it was already one of the gentler queer plays around - Angels in America was being put together in the same period, and Mark Ravenhill's far more confrontational "Shopping and F**king" was two years away, and at the time I admit I was looking for more of the raw rough-edged stuff rather than something this gentle.

But nearly 30 years on, it's time for me to catch up with a play I've missed from my canon. It's funny and sweet, a little messy here and there (it almost feels like Harvey isn't quite sure what to do with two of the straight characters, as he sends one off on a drug-fuelled trip and exiles another offstage), and it's clearly pushing the rougher edges of the love story offstage (the homophobic dad of Ste is only ever a voice offstage), but where it counts - the gentle arrival of a romance into the lives of two boys who weren't expecting it, and the impact on the people around them - it plays true and honest. 

In this production it gets a solid presentation - Will Manton as non-sporty Jamie and Bayley Prendergast as the more rough-and-tumble Ste have a natural chemistry and it's a delight to see them edging their way together in act one and working out what their relationship means in act two. Julia Kennedy Scott as Jamie's mum is a rough-edged delight, blunt and direct but with the heart in the right place. Hannah Zaslawski suffers a bit from the script's lack of clarity on why Leah's in the story - her function appears to be so that Jamie has someone to talk to before Ste comes along, but her goofy climactic appearance doesn't really work and feels more like a lot of dramatic noise covering up a lack of character development rather than a set of personality quirks. Caspar Hardaker has a character where the script isn't sure whether he should be mocked or taken seriously, and his performance falls on the side of mocking in ways that feel weird and make him a bit more superfluous than he should be. 

Some clever design decisions in David Marshall-Martin's set mean that scenes flow easily into one another, and the and the production feels coherent and sweet all round.

In short this is a reasonable production of a nice but not-entirely-essential play. 

My Brilliant Career, Belvoir

 Yes, we're back for another year (though given the number of things that have been rescheduled from last year, you'd be forgiven for thinking this is 2020 done properly this time). It's nice to be back in the theatre with a big scale classic Australian Novel adaptation by a major new Australian playwright, in a beautiful and strong production - this one was originally going to tour Canberra as well but the tour got cancelled so this is my chance to catch the highly anticipated premiere.

This is my first encounter with any version of "My Brilliant Career", though it turns out this has a somewhat familiar narrative as a girl in a large rural family seeks to find herself in pre-federation country NSW, between growing up roughly in an oversized impoverished family, finding some comfort with wealthier relatives and their set before being thrown back into circumstances worse than before as she becomes governess to the children of one of her father's creditors. There's wooing, there's triumph over the odds, there's a lot of direct-address to the Audience as Sybylla attempts to justify her decisions. It's the kind of tale that could be described as rollicking - if you can spot similarities with a couple of other works (there does seem a slight element of bushbound Jane Austen in the wealth relatives sections, and the governess section weirdly feels a bit like "Sound Of Music" with the children attempting to torture the new arrival, despite the novel pre-dating "Sound of Music" by about 60 years), it never the less plays the variations on familiar themes with verve, wit and energy. 

Played on a fairly basic set (seven chairs, one piano, one set of boards centre stage and a curtain), the costumes do most of the work in setting period and character, with Nikki Shiels as our heroine centre stage for nearly all of the runtime, capturing all the mercurial characteristics of the lead, professedly anti-romantic and rough but with higher aspirations and desires that seem forever beyond her grasp, she's a fascinating figure to spend time with. The other six members of the cast move in and out of various roles - Blazey Best largely as mothers and aunts, variously frustrated, indulgent and rough-as-guts, Guy Simon largely as the potential romantic lead Harry Beechum, Jason Chong as dads and uncles, Tracey Mann largely as Sybylla's formidible Grandmother and Harry's equally formidable mother (but also scoring as a particularly grotty McSwat child), Tom Conroy landing both as sympathetic brothers and a snotty potential suitor, and Emma Harvie as sisters, a maid and a romantic rival - all give their various personas distinction while serving the greater purpose of Sybylla's story 

Kate Champion's direction together with strong lighting byAmeila Lever-Davidson and strong sound design from Steve Francis keep the show moving through the various twists and turns of narrative, coming up with effective solutions for potentially-difficult-to-stage moments like Harry and Sybylla's falling out of a boat and moving from grotty to high-culture, active big outdoors action to intimate reflective scenes with aplomb. It's a beautiful production that deserves to get wider exposure whenever possible.