2023 Well I Liked It awards

 It's the end of the year so it's time for Canberra's 4th most prestigious theatre awards (I might progress it to 3rd most prestigious if anybody happens to mention it in their program bio this year, hint hint).  For those who haven't looked through the backlog, this has been the opportunity for me to go through the year in theatre and give out the "Well I liked it" awards (or WILIs for short ... yes, this is a blog that absolutely belives in dick jokes). 

A key early contender was the musical "Downtown" - a show that, I must admit, I was a little wary of. A revue made up of 1960s songs seemed like boomer nostalgia turned to 11, something cosy, unchallenging and a bit over familiar. But instead we got a thoughtful retrospective on the era, its attitudes, its fashions, and what happened to the women who were subject to those attitudes, wearing those fashions and listening to those songs. It was impecably staged by a cast of 5 actresses and an ensemble of 4, with wit, style and an unbeatable level of charm.  

Joel Horwood made his impact locally three times -as the heartbreaking lead in "Holding the Man", and as impressively by directing two plays which featured an egomaniac declaring their retirement and then trying to get everybody around them to ignore that retirement as much as possible - the hysterical "Hay Fever" and the tragic "King Lear" - both featuring powerhouse performances at the centre from Andrea Close and Karen Vickery respectively, and both with a clump of Canberra's strongest acting talent assembled with purpose to engage and delight the audience.

Two interstate tours hit Queanbeyan with intelligent non-traditional takes on theatre - Statera Circus's "Boop" which did a fine presentation of the standard juggling/tumbling/stunts we've seen multiple glossy takes on, and brought it in with simplicity and skill. Meanwhile re:group Performance Collective combined video, personal recollections and some astonishingly tight staging in the innovative "Coil", a clever look at how the places we gather form who we are. Both were cutting edge works on a touring budget, and both were incredibly welcome to catch in a "I'd never expected to see anything like that" way. 

Three shows seen interstate presented three classic American plays in modern and powerful ways - STC's "Fences" in a strong realistic production, taking August Wilson's examination of struggling 1950s black masculinity (perfectly performed by Bert LaBonte and played against an ensemble which included one of the great Zahra Newman performances); Red Line Theatre's "Streetcar named desire" (which is not reviewed elsewhere here because I saw it at first preview, but which was a pitch perfect production using every inch of the tiny Old Fitz stage, just the right size for something affordable for Stella and Stanley and a too-small-arena for them to be confronted by Sheridan Harbridge's damaged-but-dreamy Blanch, in a show directed by Alexander Berlarge that used the intimacy of the space so well that the penultimate scene as Stanley confronts Blanche could be played out lit, apparently, by a single lightbulb); and Belvoir/State Theatre Company of South Australia's "Lady Day at Emerson's Bar and Grill", which had another great Zahra Newman performance sounding perfectly like Billie Holliday on one of her last performances as she reminisces about her glory days and the mistreatment that had led her to touring gigs while her body and mind were falling apart. 

 The Q's production of "Puffs" looked at a modern multimedia cultural behemoth through jaundiced eyes, looking at how someone else's heroic narrative can be an irritating set of traumas to those around them, played out by a mostly young ensemble with verve, wit, heartbreak and inventiveness. It was playful, engaging theatre that made me smile, laugh out loud and even very slightly quiver my lip.

Sydney hosted two great productions of shows by the late Stephen Sondheim this year that I saw and loved - Belvoir's playful, minamalist-but-had-everything-it-needed "Into the Woods", and Hayes Theatre's "A Little Night Music" which was not very-much-bigger but stylish, witty and immaculately performed - both were minamalist on the orchestra and staging but maximalist in the talent of the cast, from the oldest (Peter Carroll in "Woods", Nancye Hayes in "Night Music") down to the smallest bit part.  The Act Hub also delighted me (though not some of the grumpier critics around town) with "Marry Me a little", a revue of his rarities that gave a good opportunity for Alexander Unikowski to step out of the orchestra pit and Hannah Lance to stand and dance next to him with charm and wit in an eclectic show that played with missed connections, heartbreak and elaborate vegetable visual puns.

Former Canberran Damien Warren-Smith brought two of his shows to town, and I got a chance to see both of them, "Garry Starr: Greece Lightning" and "Garry Starr Performs Everything" - both are inspired one-man shows where Warren-Smith uses the persona of goofy manchild Garry Starr to dive in a ridiculous manner into Greek Mythology (in the case of the first) or the entire history of theatre (in the case of the second). He's back next year for another run of "Greece Lightning" (and hopefully we'll also get a run shortly of his upcoming Adelaide Fringe show, "Classic Penguins", in which, due to the impending climate crisis endangering penguins, he performs every Penguin Classic novel in the course of an hour). 

The long-awaited Canberra tour of "Come From Away" was a delight, an unlikely fusion of verbatim theatre, Canadian folk-rock, and immaculate staging to tell the story of people in a remote part of Canada finding a strange sense of community in the wake of September 11th. It was a late-in-the-tour visit but you could not tell from the energy of the cast, which was unflaggable. 

Two new plays got great productions this year - Belvoir with former-Canberran David Finnigan's "Scenes from the Climate Era", which was urgent, thoughtful and surprisingly non-diadactic in its reflections on where we are and where we are very likely to be shortly; and Canberra Youth Theatre with current-Canberran Joanna Richards' "You Can't Tell Anyone", a skilful examination of 8 different personalities under pressure when stuck in a room that none of them can get out of, pushing each other's buttons brutally. 

The two shows I saw while in New York, "Hadestown" and "Death, Let me do my show" were both great shows-  "Hadestown", please god, will tour to Australia sometime in the next few years and as long as they keep the staging for "Wait for me", it'll be worth whatever ticket price and stunt casting they throw at it. "Death Let Me do My Show" is really Rachael Bloom's solo show and unless she particularly wants a paid vacation to Australia we're much less likely to see it, but if we do, grab the chance as it's a delight.

Finally, Andrew Bovell's "Speaking in Tongues" got a stylish revival with a perfect quartet of actors showing off what they can do in a staging that was intimate, clever and very powerful. It was a demonstration of four actors at the top of their game and of how skilled Bovell's script is in playing with time, space, recollections and connections missed and misleading. Fine intimate theatre. 

Congrats to all who got a mention (and commiserations to those who didn't, but this is a long article already and I don't particularly want to make it much longer). 

King Lear, Echo Theatre, The Q, 30 Nov-3 Dec

 

"King Lear" is one of the Shakesperean plays where I always have a little difficulty - the setup requires multiple characters to be excessively gullible, it's incredibly grim, and Lear himself finds himself subject to his fate largely due to his own monstrous ego, rather than because of any more sympathetic fault. This production certanily owns the grimness, using simple staging, minimal but precise lighting by Zac Harvey and a soundtrack with dark undertones by Neville Pye and Sophia Carlton. Set in an almost pagan world (the invocations of a whole pantheon of gods in this production are gently underlined), costumed by Helen Wotjas in a stylish combination of now-and-then, Joel Horwood 's production serves the play with simplicity and skill.

Leading the cast is a titanic performance by Karen Vickery, by turns playful, wrathful, disturbing, emotional and mind-bogglingly human. We're drawn into her foolish Queen, demanding the treatment of her title despite having given up the responsiblity, disturbed as she curses out her daughters, overwhelmed by her rages, and ultimately touched by the broken person she becomes.

It's a murderer's row of talent in the cast, from the reliable strength of Michael Sparks, Lainie Hart, Natasha Vickery, Jim Adamik, Josh Wiseman, to emerging performers like Lewis McDonald, Holly Ross, Glenn Brighenti, Petronella Von Tienen and Tom Cullen, and new-to-me faces like Christina Falsone, and all find their moments of impact.  There's not a weak link in the performers, whether it be Hart's haughty rage, Brighenti's snippy servileness, McDonald's sneeringly lustful evil, Wiseman's attempts to hold onto his sanity while lost inside a persona, Falsone's extreme loyalty, Sparks' vulnerability, Adamik's righteous rage, Von Tienen's gentle joys as the fool and compassion as Cordelia, or Cullen's brutal joy in cruelty. 

Special mention to stage manager Maggie Hawkins who does a hell of a job in setting the scattered earth in act one and bringing it to organised piles for the beginning of act two, and has carefully drilled the cast into smooth set transitions. 

If you're interested in grand powerful epic Shakespeare (while I could spot a few trims in the text, this still winds up at around 3 hours 20 minutes), this is certainly one to catch. 

The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) (Revised), Canberra Rep, Theatre 3, 16 Nov-2 Dec

 "Complete Works" is basically a template for three performers to mess around with some of the best-known works in the English language, throwing everything they have into delighting the audience. It's very much a go-for-broke effort, throwing everything into a big blender with jokes coming at such speed that if one fails, there's another three dozen to follow that the sheer weight of it overwhelms you into delight. Rep's production brings this together under the guidance of Ylaria Rogers, who gives her cast a whole lotta rope while keeping the evening from falling into complete chaos, instead just having the semblance of chaos. 

The three performers giving it their all are, in alphabetical order, Callum Docherty (playing the ADHD one, distractible, goofy, constantly after the next diversion), Alex McPherson (the closest the show has to a straight-guy, but still with a great affection for a diversion into talking about anything other than the ostensible topic), and Ryan Street (who does a lot of the transition-narration in the style of a harassed Kermit-The-Frog type, if Kermit also loved taking on the women's roles by throwing a shawl on and miming vomiting on the audience). The show is a test of stamina as much as anything, keeping the energy level at 11 for just under 2 hours, and these three certainly have it to burn. 

Kayla Circeran's set is a great playground for the actors, giving them plenty of spots to play in while simultaneously looking like a backstage junkyard. Stephan Still's lighting picks out areas and gives appropriate moodyness where required for all the mini-playlets. 

In short, this is a romp, whether for Shakespeare scholars who can laugh at the tiniest joke, or for people who just want to laugh at people sticking swords under each other's arms and having a prolonged death scene. There's no intellectual justification for it beyond that it's fun. But it is definitely fun.

A Little Night Music, Hayes Theatre Company, Hayes Theatre, 13 Oct-18 Nov

 

This is the fourth production I've seen of Sondheim's sophisticated romantic comedy, after one at the Sydney theatre company in 1990 starring Geraldine Turner, John Waters and a young Toni Collette as the maid, one at the Theatre Royal in 1997 with Ruth Cracknell, Helen Morse, John O'May and Pamela Rabe, and one on Broadway in 2010 with Bernadette Peters and Elaine Strich. It's a clever comedy of lust and misaligned love, albeit a comedy with a death and a suicide attempt (but then it is based on an Ingmar Bergman film).  Hugh Wheeler's script is the rare Sondheim script that has the structural skill and wit that Sondheim himself had (it's no wonder that Wheeler was recruited for this and "Sweeney Todd", one close to farce, one close to thriller, both genres that require a strong sense of structure), and the show is lush, romantic and all-round delightful. 

In all these previous viewings, though, the central pair, Desiree and Frederick, have always been played by performers somewhat older than me. So it's a bit of a shock to suddenly discover I'm past their age, and into an age where love-stories are very much second-time-around stories (it's also the first time that I've been in a permanent relationship while watching this). It's a show very much about misdirected desires finding a new (or returning to a previous) partner, with a complex series of five love triangles between eight characters, and of course, being Sondheim, all those triangles means it's a show entirely in derivativs of 3/4 (or waltz) time. 

Dean Bryant's production captures the sophistication and the grand passions inside the production well, using simple staging (minimal props, a couch, a couple of chairs) and the intimacy of the Hayes space to let the actors spill their personal issues straight into the audience as much as possible, dragging us into their dilemmas and issues. The orchestration for a band of five is surprisingly adaptable and rarely sounds underpowered (though there's a slight case of over-miking during the act one climax when the entire cast is singing at full force). 

Blazey Best enjoys the wryly teasing nature of Desiree, along with the rueful sadness during "Send in the Clowns". Leon Ford gives Frederick an endearing pompousness which drops away with repeated exposure to Desiree. Nancye Hayes gives Madame Armfeldt just the right amount of hauteur and pride in her debauched accommplishments. Melanie Bird is a sweetnatured-without-being-dim Anne, and Jeremi Campese manages Henrik's angst without making it painful rather than funny. Joshua Robson and Erin Claire as the Count and Countess Malcolm provide suitible pompousness and wounded-target-of-a-lot-of-that-pompousness. Kiana Daniele enjoys the role of the lusty Petra in every opportunity it gives her, wehther it be teashing with Anne and Henrik, or in her own spotlight song. 

In short, this is a production I was delighted to catch the closing night of after fearing I was going to miss it entirely before the production extended for one week. If it makes a comeback, be sure to catch it. 

Oil, Sydney Theatre Company, Wharf 1, 4 Nov-16 Dec

 

 "Oil" frames wide political issues through a deeply personal story, as the history and future of the oil industry on this planet is told through multiple scenes of a mother and daughter traveling through time - originally met in a bitter Cornwall winter as oil promises an escape and a light that never goes out, moving forward to the middle east as British companies take over the gulf and the same woman gets involved with a British oil company representative, into the 70s when she's a top-level oil exec right at the time when Libya starts retaking the rights to exploit its own oil, and on into futures both not-so-distant and very-much-distant. It's a beautifully presented and performed production, with the contrasting personal narrative of a mother and rebellious daughter playing with and against the wider historic narrative, with elements reflecting each other. Ella Hickson's script requires grand resources to give this personal story scale and to capture the very distinctive tone, somewhere between strict reality and abstract lesson-play, and Paige Rattray's production mostly captures this very well.

That may not be apparent in the first scene, which is both very dimly lit and acted in broad-to-the-point-of-incomprehension cornish accents. It does feel a little bewhildering watching grim happenings in a frozen cabin in the middle of nowhere (or in this case, on a platform on top of a pile of black dust). But the following four scenes are grand contrasts, well lit, clear and played with power by the company. Brooke Satchwell as protagonist May, and Charlotte Friels as the daughter Amy carry the bulk of the evening, with the rest of the cast playing various cameos as lovers, friends, enemies and business associates in smaller but striking cameos. The in-the-round-staging means that this story stays close and personal even as it traverses time and place widely, coming to a strong ending that lays bare where we're headed. 

This is compelling, thoughtful political theatre presented lushly and grandly in a way that still lands powerfully. Absoultely worth catching. 

The Master and Margarita, Belvoir Street Theatre, 11 Nov-10 Dec

 Eamon Flack's production of "Master and Margarita" begins with three performers picking up a copy of the titular novel and reading it out loud. But soon strange things begin to happen, and soon we're off on a rollicking story full of magic, mysticism, religion, copious nudity, romance and a murderous cat. It's a strange adaptation that feels like it's simultaneously trying to tell the story of the novel and the circumstances of its creation, with byways all over the place. But it's a distinctively Belvoir flavour of romp,too, with dance, eccentricly outlandish performances, magic, a mega-fast revolve and enough stuff left all over the stage by the end of the show to make it very probably a nightmare for the stage crew to reset again. 

The cast are game for anything, from Matilda Ridgeway's narrator to Josh Price's Behemoth the Cat. Bulgakov's novel may or may not be anything like this, but certainly this is a compelling night out in the theatre. In some ways it's the most sophisticatedly produced piece of student theatre I've ever seen, with ideas thrown at it in abundance, but it's played to perfection by the cast. If you don't fall onto the wavelength of this, I can imagine it becoming a very tedious evening very quickly, but fortunately this hit me in all the right places. I think the best way to go into this may just be to know as little as possible going in apart from that anything can happen and probably will. 

The Dictionary of Lost words, Sydney Theatre Company and State Theatre Company of South Australia, Drama Theatre, Opera House, 26 Oct-16 Dec (and subsequent season in Melbourne 17 Feb-10 March 2024)

 

Pip Williams' novel is not one I'd heard of before this was announced as part of the Sydney Theatre Company's 2023 season, but a new Australian novel getting a theatre adaptation so quickly meant it was something to keep an eye out - and what's arrived is a richly theatrical presentation of a dense story covering the process of putting the Oxford English Dictionary together, from the point of view of a young woman who discovers the words that are being left out - mostly the words of the lower classes and women due to the embedded prejudices of the men creating the dictionary. It's an essentially literary conceit, to tell a tale that relies so much on words and their definition, and Verity Laughton's adaptation doesn't entirely succeed in making the central character, Esme, into an active protagonist - she remains someone to whom things happen rather than someone who makes  things happen - but it's a story that moves along nicely enough through several decades as a young woman broadens her horizons on a journey that will reverberate beyond her lifetime.

Jessica Arthur's staging uses a simple two-levelled set (the floor largely playing the "scrippy" where the dictionary is being put together, the gallery above for additional scenes and for a projection screen for locations, dates and a few other surprising elements, in a production that flows smoothly across three hours of fairly dense plot. The cast of 8 slip across multiple roles smoothly creating a rich array of individuals, friends, colleagues, lovers and servants. Tilda Cobham-Hervey is a solid centre as Esme, aging from an inquisitive 2 year old to an experienced woman feeling the weight of her experiences. 

If in the end, this feels somewhat familiar (there's a fair few familiar stops off in the years from the late 19th century to the early 1920s) it's almost the definition of comfort viewing, wrapping the audience up in a big hug of a story. It's not a perfect show but it's an engrossing one that works with an audience, providing some laughs, heartbreak, and a few thoughts for the drive home. 

Garry Starr Performs Everything, MILKE, The Q, 9 November 2023 (and probably touring everywhere continualy for the next coupla years)

 So, I wrote up Garry's other show, Greece Lightning, back when it played Smith's Alternative in June, but due to a fault known as "being in Sydney" at the time, I missed the last run of this at the Q. Fortunately, it was back for another night so I booked fast. And it's just as good if not even better, a superb demonstration of Damien Warren-Smith's control of his body, his talent at playing with an audience, his shamelessness in indulging with ridiculous bits and, of course, some gratious knob gags. 

This time around Garry turns his eyes to the various genres of theatre - from Shakespere to Burlesque, via a lot of dancing, some gorgeous circus skills, some light flashing of the merkin, some grape catching, and a big closing number. Once again we get to see Garry mangle the English language as much as he mangles the various forms of theatre he goes through - treating sex-farce, Pinter, romcom, and Bunraku with equal delight and the proper amount of disrespect. Garry's gleeful idiocy, persistence, and inability to notice what a dill he's being are a constant delight, and draw audience members to him to play along in the various required scenarios. There's a lovely sense that for the hour of the show, we're in the hands of a master who will tease us, provoke us, and leave us a giggling mess on the floor, before performing one truly remarkable physical act that leaves you gasping in all the right ways. 

Garry is off to England to finish the year, but hopefully he'll be back touring Australia and delighting audiences shortly. So keep an eye out, and book fast!

Under the Influence, Q the Locals, The Q, 3-4 Nov

 I've seen Moya Simpson and John Shortis twice before - once in 2005 as two thirds of "The Three Scrooges", their christmas show with Peter J Casey, and once in 2008 in their cabaret show at Vivaldis, "We don't need another Euro", about Eruopean songs that have made their way into english-language hits; and I've sen Mikelangelo twice before, both times supporting Amanda Palmer on tour (once at the National Gallery in 2011, once at the Canberra Theatre in what google tells me was 2020). So now they're together in a show that Shortis and Simpson have apparently done a couple of time before, the "Under the Influence" shows where they team with another musician to explore their works and influences, and to share tunes. Over the course of a bit over two hours (intermission included), they explore everything from Balkan folk music to Dick Dale, Count Von Count, Nancy Sinatra, Dusty Springfield and Elvis, using Mikelangelo's multiple past bands, from the Black Sea Gentlemen to Tin Star to P Harness with multiple changes of instruments, harmonies, and, in Mikelangelo's case, a few outfit changes. 

It's a glorious occasion - Shortis and Simpson play support more than, perhaps, you'd expect, but Mikelangelo is such a grand presence with strong deep vocals, snappy slicked-back hair and absolute stage power that it's wiser to yield than to try to upstage him. Together with a sharp tight backing band ("The Reprobates") and some gorgeous stage lighting, it's a fun evening of song and performance that is absolutely worth catching. 

Speaking in Tongues, Free Rain Theatre, ACT Hub, 25 Oct-4 Nov

 

It's a familiar setup. Two pairs of people meet in a bar and go back to a sordid hotel. The dance of seduction between both of them, the feelings of desperation and inhibition playing against one another, the words so familiar that they overlap. The push and pull secret desires, of confessing more than you should to someone you barely know, of struggling for a connection you know is going to be fleeting - it's a compelling dance between this quartet of characters. And then later that night, re-united with their partners, the scene is just as familiar - the secret you're holding from your spouse, the feeling something has broken, the longing to confess and be forgiven. Beyond that, there's further connections, spiraling out of the home into two mysterious disappearances, emotional chaos and emptiness. 

Andrew Bovell's play "Speaking in Tongues" is a challenging work for actors - a piece for a quartet with an opening twenty minutes consisting largely of overlapping dialogue where two characters are saying exactly the same phrase at the same time, followed by extensive scenes of duologues and interweaving monologues. There's a challenge in the opening twenty minutes to keep the dialogue synchronous yet create individual characters, and then in the later scenes to maintain a connection even when you're the silent one on stage.

 All four cast members pass this test with aplomb and stop the show from feeling like just a technical exercise, into something vibrant and emotionally true. It's a show that resets in Act Two, introducing a whole new quartet of characters- except we've already been told enough striking details about them in Act One that as soon as they're introduced we know exactly who they are and what their role in the wider picture is - and as we delve further into them, the theme of connections sought and lost gets darker, with darker implications about some of the hidden fears that lie between men and women. There's so many strong images created both verbally and onstage (whether it be Steph Robert's obviously tipsy, sardonic Sonja contrasted with Jess Waterhouse's tense Jane in the opening scene, the contrast between Arran McKenna's avuncular Leon and Robibe Haltner's damaged Pete in their meeting at a bar, the effect of a rearranged hairdo and some striking lipstick on Roberts in her change to the stonewalling Sarah in act two, Jess Waterhouse's isolated, desperate Valerie, McKenna's in-over-his-head Nick or Robbie Haltner's pair of lost men in act two, Neil and John).  

Cate Clelland's production is simple - a spare staging with a group of cubes rearranged to create hotel rooms, bars, homes, a therapist's office, a police station, and an isolated backroad - but relishes in the intimacy and direct connection between actor and audience that this allows. Craig Mueller's lighting washes the stage in various noir-ish colours, and Justin Mullins' sound design uses a core song in various cover versions to drive the hypnotic, inquisitive but bewildered nature of the quest for connection that drives everyone. 

This is a powerful, compelling jigsaw puzzle of a play, where in this production the pieces are painted boldly and strongly enough to pull them together with ease. It's gripping, funny, truthful and painful, and altogether powerful, pure theatre. 

Blaque Showgirls, Griffin Theatre Company, Stables Theatre, 4 Sept-21 October

The road to the stage is never quite a straight line for any new play. In this case, after a delay of about a year because both director and writer were pregnant, "Blaque Showgirls" finally arrives at Griffin, a wildly inventive spoof of Paul Verhoven's 1996 movie (which I've never seen, but I'm gay and grew up in the 90s so I feel like I know most of the key details anyway), throwing in additional questions about racial identity and the honest creation of art. In Sharri Sebbens and Ursula Yovich's production, it's a flashy, silly, and somewhat scathing take on the popular myths we have about fame and success with a strong identity all its own. 

Leading the cast as our dimwit heroine is Stephanie Somerville as our dimwit heroine, Ginny, convinced of her talent even if absolutely nobody else is, bringing vast amounts of idiotic delusion to the role. As best friend Molly, Angline Penrith sells the absurd things that happen to her with a gentle self-effacing charm, and when she gets the bits of the script that are Obviously The Authors Message, she sells that too with integrity and power. Jonathan Jeffrey as the imperious lead dancer Chandon gives great bitch and moves like a godess too. Matty Mills as Kyle is pure sleaze in all the right ways. Filling in for an injured Matthew Cooper as True Love interest is an endearingly sweet and committed Ian Michael and giving charm and honesty even as his dialogue gets increasingly ridiculous.

Cris Baldwin on Set and Costumes gives maximum tacky glam. Verity Hampson lights the tiny Griffin space with skill and acute accuracy. 

This is a delightful way to spend an evening, clever, insightful and thoroughly satiric. You'll leave the venue grinning. 

The Visitors, Sydney Theatre Company, Mooghalin Performing Arts Inc and Sydney Opera House, Drama Theatre, Sydney Opera house, 11 Sept-14 October 2023 and subsequent tour including Canberra Theatre centre 8-11 Nov

 

It's January 1788, and six leaders of the Eora nation gather. There's a fleet of ships off the shore, and the leaders are discussing how they should meet them. When a young man from the Botany Bay mob arrives, the issue becomes more urgent, and decisions are made - then negotiated. 225 years later, in an auditorium a short walk away from where those ships landed, it's impossible not to take these discussions and think of the 225 years of history that followed - on the day of this performance, also the day a referendum asked to recognise the descendants of these characters and give them a constitutional voice to government.

Jane Harrison's script has a classic structure - in some ways, it resembles "Twelve Angry Men" as the characters reach initial decisions then are swayed by debate, with Dalara Williams' Wallace taking the place of Juror number 8 as the dissenter and the one persuading the rest of the group to take another point of view. Wesley Enoch stages the drama on a visually striking rocky outcrop (set and costume by Elizabeth Gadsby), with the characters constantly in motion. There's a great sense of light and shade, from the joking of Elaine Crombie's Jaky to the overwhelmed Joseph Wunijjaka's young Lawrence, Guy Simon's procedure-obsessed Gary, Beau Dean Riley Smith's practical Albert and Kyle Morrison's nervous but wise Albert. 

Inevitably, the practicalities of live theatre means that there was a late cast substitution, with Aaron Pedersen standing in for an unavailable Luke Carroll as Gordon. This is a challenging role, as Gordon is the angriest of the six leaders, and Pedersen (understandably, on short notice, without a full rehearsal period) doesn't really give it a lot of notes beyond rage. I hope by the time the tour has reached Canberra, if Pedersen is still with the tour, he's found his way deeper into the role and can give it all that the role needs - as it stands, it's a slightly weak note in an otherwise strong production. 

This is a powerful, relevant work that lays a different perspective on one of Australia's foundational myths, and is well worth catching. 

Lady Day at Emerson's Bar and Grill, Belvoir Street Theatre, State Theatre company of South Australia and Melbourne theatre company, Belvoir Street Theatre, 14 Sept-15 Oct (subsequently Melbourne Theatre company 19 Oct-2 Dec

 

Belvoir's production of this show introduces Zahra Newman as Billie Holiday with care - coming onstage in full light, the lights descend when she sings the first notes of "What a Little Moonlight Can Do", and she sings in silhouette. Vocally, the resemblance is uncanny, so when the lights come up, she IS Billie Holiday. And for the next hour and a half, she remains the living embodiment of Billie Holiday in one of her final performances, in a Philidelphia club 

The show features her singing 14 classic songs with a three-piece band and talking to the audience between songs, inevitably talking about her career, blighted by a traumatic upbringing, racist incidents while touring, and a fall into drug addiction and alcoholism. It's a gripping performance, something that could easily become awkward or banal like any other biomusical, but in Newman's hands it's thrilling, lively, emotionally intense and a powerful production. 

The role is a tour-de-force, but a highly challenging one. First, recapture one of the great voices of the 20th century. Then have the acting chops to tell her story, with only the occasional interruption or redirection from Kym Pulling's bandleader, in a style that suggests the emotional turmoil yet comes across with crystal-clear clarity. Newman is a thrilling presence on the high-wire, handling Lainie Robertson's challenging script with skill and power - seemingly loose and chaotic, but at the same time clear as a bell and insightful and making every emotion register. 

Kym Pulling's band is tight and sounds great throughout, and the combination of Alisa Peterson's beautiful set and Govin Ruben's lighting gives the event a great sense of period style - immersing us in the sense of time-traveling back to the late 50s in an intimate club environment (even down the lampshades hovering over the auditorium). It's a beautiful production that deserves to be widely seen. 

Is God Is, Sydney Theatre Company and Melbourne Theatre Company, Wharf 1 Theatre, 15 Sept-21 October

 

"Is God Is" is a modern revenge tale, as two twin sisters, both scarred by the past, are reunited with their mother and sent off by her on a revenge mission against the man who hurt all of them. But revenge, as always, has a way of rebounding against those who practice it....

This is a show where I like the idea of more than the execution. I usually enjoy reading the dense plots of Jacobean playwrights and their revenge tragedies, full of grim doings and unspeakable actions. But somehow this never quite connected to me - despite the strength of the two sisters, played wonderfully by Henrietta Enyonam Amevor and Clare Chihambakwe, who are at the centre of the narrative. It may be the early scene with the mother, which looks beautiful and has a fine religious image, but keeps that image too long and ends up feeling like very static exposition. Perhaps it's that the violence in the play isn't staged with precision so it ends up feeling too safe and comfortable (it's a challenge to stage violence that is safe for the performers but looks risky to the actors, but it's a challenge that has to be met if you're going to sell stage violence effectively).

Whatever it is, it's a production that ultimately doesn't connect across the footlights to me, and as such it's a missed opportunity. Somehow the team of Zindzi Okenyo and Shari Sebbens, so good when staging "Seven Ways of Killing Kylie Jenner" a year ago, haven't nailed this one as well - whether it's limitations in staging a production at the Sydney Theatre company compared to the Darlinghurst Theatre Company or challenges in staging something far more in-your-face in its presentation, this didn't quite come off as the great revenge tale it was seeking to be.  

Is there something wrong with that lady, Ensemble Theatre, 18 September-14 October 2023

 

After 40 years of professional writing, Debra Oswald certainly has a few things to say to an audience, and she clearly enjoys saying them directly to them for the first time rather than mitigated through characters and fictional plotlines. From teen angst stories that formed the basis for her early play "Dags" to the challenge of writing for policemen who didn't swear ("Police Rescue") and rock band members who didn't do drugs or have sex ("Sweet and Sour"), to success and becoming one of Australia's most reviled character murderers on "Offspring", to those long patches of waiting when nobody seems to be interested in your writing and where the work is met too regularly with rejection, she certainly has a fair bit of story to tell, and in this production (directed by Lee Lewis with minimum fussing about), she takes an opportunity to share it, openly and lovingly. 

This is a rare chance to spend time with a major Australian writer, one who's always written with heart and honesty, whether in her plays for young audiences ("Dags", "Stories in the Dark"), for adults ("Gary's House", "Mr Bailey's Minder") and she treats her own stories with similar power. She's honest about herself, her joys and her disappointments, and treats the audience as a trusted friend. It's a warm, friendly show that is a pleasure to watch.  

The Dismissal - An Extremely Serious Musical Comedy, Squabbalogic, York Theatre, Seymour Cetnre, 31 Aug-28 October 2023

 "The Dismissal: The Musical" has been a fair while in development - getting a workshop in 2019, and a further development in 2021 prior to a planned premiere run as part of the Sydney Theatre company's 2021 season with an accompanying planned run at Canberra theatre centre - both were subsequently pulled due to continued COVID restrictions. I'm listed as a Grassroots Producer in the program due to dropping Squabbalogic a donation at the end of the 2022 financial year, but rest assured, I'm not expecting any return on this investment. 

Catching it late in its run, I must admit I found that, despite several years of development, it's still a show that suffers from some occasionally messy storytelling - despite the success of "Hamilton" internationally and "Keating" locally, political history doesn't always suit the stage without careful reshaping and editing, and some of the material appears not fully rethought for best dramatic effect - in particular, the material relating to the Khemlani loans affair drags alarmingly, and the script keeps on pushing the central trio of Whitlam, Fraser and Kerr offstage for long patches (in fact, Fraser doesn't really enter the narrative until late in act one). The use of Norman Gunston as narrator and odd-role player it should be a constant delight but apart from the opening number of act two, we never really get a chance for Matthew Whittet's Gunston to go hogwild and dominate the stage the way he should. And there's a lack of care in selecting between what's dramatically important narrative (much of the internal ructions in the labor party remain very much untold) and what's petty gossip (the snideness of a lot of the writing about Lady Anne Kerr has a distinctly bitchy tone). In general the show feels a little too long - the political stalemate that led to the dismissal starts at the beginning of act two, meaning we're waiting while very little is actually happening for most of an act. Laura Murphy's score has some great moments in it (in particular the Liberal Party anthem "Private Schoolboys" and the metaphoric montage "Rain down under") but it never quite lets Gough get a full grand moment - he's more seen in quips and quotes than fully musicalised. 

It's still an impressive physical production, from the pre-show of 1970's TV commercials mixed with more modern house-of-reps activity to the well-drilled cast, from Justin Smith's stenorian Whitlam, Andrew Cutcliffe's smooth Fraser, Octavia Barron Martin's overwhelmed Kerr, Peter Carroll's panto-villain Barwick, Monique Salle's triple of Khemlani, Snedden and QEII, There's some fine moments of physical production too, but it never quite conquers the over-written material and gives it simplicity and clarity. It's a pity a show this anticipated doesn't quite fly like it should. 

Rosievile, Canberra Youth Theatre, Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre, 29 Sept-8 Oct

Mary Rachel Brown is tied to Canberra theatrical legend, with her play "A Streetcar named Datsun 120Y" being one of the triumphs of the late 90s/early 200s run of Elbow Theatre, one of the great independent theatre companies that never quite became a permanent fixture in Canberra's theatre scene but never the less maintains a place in theatregoers memories and their hearts. Returning 20 years later to Canberra, she presents a play that has considerable charm though clearly still needs a little more development.

The problems with "Rosieville" sit strangely at the centre and at the top of the play - the ostensible narrative is from the perspective of Rose, a pre-teen young woman whose family is going through disruptions and who is surrounded by neighbours and other characters with their own dramas, who starts interacting with a pigeon who declares itself her spirit animal. At least in this production, the pidgeon is presented with goofy music and some messy physical comedy, meaning it's difficult to retain interest in this element of the plot - it feels like it's talking down to the audience in ways the rest of the show doesn't. 

Fortunately, the narratives surrounding it, from Rose's mother's attempts to reach out to her daughter, to her neighbour's attempt to get her brother interested in a revival of the Birdman rally, to the challenges involved in raising racing pigeons, to one particularly dodgy haircut, are far more engaging. It's a pity there's a bit of a hole in the centre of this production because it's clear Brown is a strong writer with a great ear for dialogue, but one who hasn't quite got their ideas in a final useable form yet for this play. 

This show has an unusual mix for CYT, with two adult performers interacting with five youth performers in parental and mentor roles - both Amy Crawford and Richard Manning mix well with the young performers. There are some strong moments of staging here, particularly the climactic Birdman rally, and some powerful moments of the heart. But it comes in a very uneven package that could have used some further polish or a refocus. 

Rachael Bloom: Death, let me do my show, Lucille Lortel theatre, September 6-30

 Rachel Bloom's hit TV show "Crazy Ex Girlfriend" brought her to wide attention - a contempory romcom with a strong musical background, it featured Bloom frequently singing songs about modern issues in lust, love, and professional womanhood. With songs like "Let's generalize about men", "the sexy getting ready song" and "I have friends", she took a hilarious modern woman's approach to a genre that could be simplistic and reductive, and delighted a cult audience.

Now, in her first solo show since Covid, she claims she's going to just do a light fluffy show full of silly pleasant songs. But as the ttile suggests, more is going on here, as some of her experiences from the last few years refuse to be carefully packaged away in joke form. 

This is definately a solo comedy show with a few twists in its tail, and it's difficult to realy get into the meat of the show without giving away some of these twists. But it's not a spoiler to say, yes, some of the show does involve dealing with how a young aetheist deals with the spectre of death as part of life, given personal losses and the potential for further losses. It rounds out into a conclusion that is simultaneously ridiculous and deeply moving, and Bloom performs throughout in a style that is simultaneously welcoming and completely controlling of the evening. It's a deeply personal show, heartfelt and honest, and is performed immaculately throughout. If ever she tours anywhere near where you are, catch her, she's charming, delightful, intelligent and witty. 

Hadestown, Maria Isaacs, Dale Frazier, Hunter Arnold, Tom Kirkaday et al, Walter Kerr Theatre, Currently selling to June 16 2024 and on tour

 "Hadestown" pulls a story from ancient Greek myth straight into a modern telling, using the Orpheus and Eurydice story to tell of love, loss, art, practicality, power, and tragedy - a purely theatrical telling of a myth, embracing its familiarity in a tribute to storytelling and its metaphorical power.

Anais Mitchell's score starts with a strong New Orleans trombone riff and maintains in that style as Lillas White as Hermes introduces the players and the world - the boy composer, the lost young woman, the god of the underworld, his party-girl wife and the three fates, guiding everyone. Rachel Hauck's scene design resembles a low-down bar with everyone gathered to have a good time, to tell old tales - with some risers around for the 8-piece band to sit in that also gives a little bit of a greek-ampitheatre look. As the story continues and boy meets girl, the risks of poverty grow and the temptations of escape increase,  Rachel Chavkin's production builds in intensity til everything heads straight to the titular destination. 

Winner of 8 tony awards in 2019 and running (covid interrupted) ever since, in its current incarnation (with four of the lead five cast members recast) it's holding strong and powerful as one of the best shows on broadway - an emotional, musical and visual feast. White in the role of Hermes absolutely makes it her own (the role has previously been cast as, and is understudied by, males, but with White in the role there's no doubt she's perfect for it). Reeve Carney, who's been playnig the role of Orpheus since the beginning of the run, gives the role a delicate power, almost semi-autistic in the way his concentration on his art cuts him off from the dangers around him. Solea Pfeiffer has a tough-front-but-deep-emotional power behind her as a young woman tormented by the fates. Phillip Boykin oozes power and confidence up until the point where the front cannot be kept up as Hades. And Betty Who gives party-girl Persephone depth and emotional power as it seems the party may get cut-off for her. 

There's no definate plans for this show to come to Australia any time soon, though it is touring in the US and also is planning a UK return in the near future. But if it comes here it's absoultely a show to catch and be bewitched by again - a powerful telling of an old myth in ways that are absolutely modern, impressive and strong. 

Colleen McCulloch's Tim, Christine Dunstan Productions, The Q, 25-26 August (and subsequent season at Riverside Theatre Paramatta Aug 30-Sep 2 - to tour further in 2024)

Colleen McCulloch is one of the more eclectic Australian novelists - starting with this suburban romance, moving onto the epic mad passions of "The Thorn Birds", moving onto a wartime romance in "An Indecent Obsession", the religious-sci-fi meld "A Creed for the Third Millenium" an 8 book series chronicling Roman History around the rise of Julius Caesar into the collapse of Antony and Cleopatra, and five mystery novels. It all began almost 50 years ago with this romantic drama about an older professional woman and her relationship with her gardner, as it grows from a simple friendship to something much more entwining as she begins to be caught up in his life and his potential future. 

There's a lot of hotbutton issues here - even more so as Tim McGarry has updated the novel into 2023 - our heroine, once a personal assistant to a mining executive, is now a mining executive, and as issues of caring emerge we get discussions of the NDIS and its possibilities - but it's still fundamentally the same May-December romance where Tim's open, positive nature affects Mary's solid, professional demeanour in ways that take her and us completely by surprise. The messy family dynamic of a group built around caring for one member comes to light as the various members try to help and protect Tim, and it becomes clear how they are not the same thing. 

Darren Yap directs with attention foremost on the performances, on building and developing the complex relationships as the characters get more entwined. James Browne's set is surprisingly grand for a touring show, using a large sweeping screen, a wall of foliage and a small revolve to move us around various homes and locations smoothly and beautifully. 

Jeanette Cronin has played a great array of tough, strong women, and relishes the chance to play a character gobsmacked by how deeply she's fallen in love, in the most beautiful of ways. Ben Goss as Tim is beautful in his sweet nature and vulnerability, arousing the protective instinct in the entire audience. Valerie Bader is always a great presence and steals every scene she's in as Mary's lusty neighbour, while also bringing warmth as Tim's mother. Andrew McFarlane builds our affection as Tim's dad - his quiet-spoken affection feeling slightly controlling until you realise later in the play how deeply his caring goes. Julia Robertson plays Tim's sister as a character whose protective nature manifests in all the ugliest ways they do within families - it's a brittle character but she lets us see the heart behind the wall. Akkeshy Caplash plays three smaller roles giving them each individual vibes - scoring best, perhaps, as Mary's friend in the caring industry Raj, who's allowed to be a bit more than just an exposition magnet.

This is a very accomplished, beautiful show, largely worth it for the sheer joy of seeing Cronin in a defining role, showing off her warmth and her toughness, and to get involved in a complexly emotional story where things are allowed to be left with a little bit of messiness. 

You Can't Tell Anyone, Canberra Youth Theatre, Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre Centre, August 10-20

 

Joanna Richards' play is the best premiere work I've seen from Canberra Youth Theatre, a thriller with a lot going on underneath the surface as 8 teens, mostly in that period between Year 12 and beginning University, gather for one final party, and find themselves drawn into a brutal game that they can't escape from. There's a real sense that Richards knows these characters intimately and has thought about what makes them tick, and about how to push them up against each other to maximum effect as they push buttons they shouldn't, cascading crises and tensions higher and higher. Richards has been a powerful stage presence in the past as an actor, and she now shows powerful skills as a writer, giving all the cast strong engaging roles to play in the drama. There are some familiar elements here (you can spot one device from Stoppard, and another from Bunel), but they're combined in a way that feels new and invigorating. 

Director Caitlin Baker manages the complex play with aplomb, as the story switches focus across the group, including multiple simultaneous conversations across the stage as the group divides and recombines, without ever losing focus or lessening the tension.  There's a real sense of lived-in-character performances from the entire cast - making everybody immediately recongisable yet complex, with multiple motivations going on.She brings out all the strengths in Richards' script and serves the work very well. 

Ella Buckley is transformed from her charmingly quirky performances in such plays as "Crimes of the Heart" and"Brighton Beach Memoirs" to play the tense, driven Gwen to perfection. Jessi Gooding absolutely suits the role of the deeply thoughtful, questioning, sweet-natured but willing to bite back Willa. Lachlan Houen steals laughs with every line as the dry, standoffish Benny but is also able to invest deeply when things get emotional. Breanna Kelly is a sweet presence as the friend who's left but is able to bring the darkness when required. Emily O'Mahoney's youth and sibling rivalry pushes all the right buttons as the drama accumulates around her and ultimately captures her. Isaiah Pritchard makes a character who could be an unappealing caricature into something much more engaging, his surface goofiness giving way to pain with aplomb. Jake Robinson pushes the malleable Jeremy into increasing stresses as he's required to adjust to the escalating circumstances again and again. And Paris Scharkie as the edgy Kat knows when to bring the vulnerability when it comes through. 

This is one of the best two new plays I've seen this year, tying with David Finnegan's "Scenes from the Climate Era" - it shows a group of new talents playing as well and as strongly as any of the more established performers I've seen this year, and it's absolutely great theatre. Well worth catching if you can. 

Jailbaby, Griffin Theatre Company, Stables Theatre, 7 July-19 August

 Suzie Miller's Griffin follow-up to "Prima Facie" is another look at how the legal system mistreats people, this time a young first-time prisoner caught up in something he barely understands, only realising what's coming after it's too late to do anything about it. The wider focus of this narrative compared to "Prima Facie"s direct spotlight means this feels a little more rambling, widening the perspective to show how things could have gone differently if our protagonist was wealthy rather than poor, how the good intention of a well-meaning witness mean nothing, and how the systems set up to protect our protagonist barely seem to work. There's a mounting tension as it's increasingly clear how over-his-head protagonist has set himself up for. 

Andrea James' production uses the small stage of the Griffin well to tell the story, using a trio of actors playing multiple roles from parents to cops to lovers, doctors, family, and police, using a simple institutional set using some large mirrors to allow for a greater range of angles onstage than is usually available. It's a tight, expertly drillled production that mounts in tension to some truly brutal moments, allowing Miller's words to tell the story and not overloading the show with flashy devices. 

Anthony Yangoyan plays the young man at the centre of the play - the show uses his first-person perspective throughout to drive the action, and Yangouan keeps the character just the right side of naivety - the character makes several bad decisions throughout the evening but we never feel he's unrealistically dumb. He also switches into an alternate role as another young man, to illustrate how the law treats the privileged versus the underprivileged, and it's a tribute to Yangoyan that this doesn't feel as blindly schematic as it might - he creates two distinct personas that he can (as in the climax) switch betwen at will. Lucia Mastrantone and Anthony Taufa play everyone else, switching between various institutional roles as characters who offer to help or to further endanger our protagonist - Mastrantone gets the best of this material as a woman realising the limitations and effects of her own role in participating in the justice system, but both performers deliver with power.

This isn't the masterwork that "Prima Facie" was, and it can feel in the after-effect a little too diffuse and unfocussed - but it's a powerful night in the theatre provoking a lot of thoughts about the effects of our system of justice in a confronting way. If it doesn't quite capture lightning in a bottle the way "Prima Facie" did, it's still an effective evening. 

On the Beach, Sydney Theatre Company, Ros Packer Theatre, 8 July-12 August

 

Nevil Shute's 1957 novel tells a very much of-its-time apocalypse, as isolated people in Melbourne wait for inevitable doom to drift down after a short northern hemisphere nuclear war has left everything irradiated and created a cloud of fallout which is slowly enveloping the earth. Set in the near future of 1963, it's a slow collapse as our characters meet and attempt to reason their way out of their fates. Tommy Murphy and Kip Williams' adaptation keeps it very much in period - the opening image of characters strolling across a beachside on a summers day evokes Max Dupain's photography, and there's care to keep the attitudes very much of the period - these are not characters who would rant against their fate, more quietly breaking inside. Kip Williams gives it a staging that is simultaneously epic enough to fill the Ros Packer stage and simple and beautifully scaled - a multipurpose platform, walls of four white cloths (one of which sweeps towards the audience and away again for scene changes), and a couple of set elements coming in from the flies to represent a periscope or a trellised veranda. It's beautifully paced, to Grace Ferguson's moving score, striking and impressive in its precision.

There's strong work from the performers - Tai Hara as the US commander quietly mourning his wife and assuming his responsibility as one of the last representations of his nation as he drifts into a relationship with Conessa Treffone's young woman eager for experience, Michelle Lee Davidson and Ben O'Toole as the young couple trying to bring up a child in the face of disaster, Matthew Backer as the scientist looking to find escapism away from the truth he already knows, and a number of other performers taking on multiple roles as various other figures finding a dignified way to face their fate. 

It's a very melancholy piece but with great moments of soul and beauty - particularly the final image. This should feel like an oddity - a previous generation's fantasy of doom, superseded by the last 60 years of history, but instead, it feels just as relevant as we see what's been happening in the northern hemisphere this summer and await what will come for us in the next six months or so. It's a thoughtful, reflective piece that reflects its source material well without feeling particualrly retro. 

The Weekend, Belvoir Street Theatre Upstairs, 5 Aug-10 Sept

 Three friends gather at the coastal weekend property of a recently deceased friend, and over the course of a weekend, discover secrets about each other and about the nature of their friendship. As a short plot synopsis, this sounds somewhat familiar - it's a familiar trope in literature to use this kinda post-funeral device to bring people back together, and it's true that the nature of the secrets, when they are revealed, aren't necessarily all that exciting, but there's a building power in Sue Smith's adaptation of Charlotte Wood's novel, particularly as it's brought alive in Sarah Goodes' smooth and stylish production. 

Played out largely on a raised deck designed by Stepehn Cirtis, the three women and the impaired, incontinent dog that accompanies them play out the tensions as it turns out they didn't know their mutual friend nearly as well as they'd hoped, and as they find out details about the past that threaten to shatter their bond - and some very present threats, from the temptation of a new role for the actress (Belinda Giblin) whose most praised role is very much in the past, the isolated academic (Melita Jurisic) trying to care for the dog her friend left behind, or the organised businesswoman (Toni Scanlan) whose brittle contempt for her friends breaks when she needs them most. The observing, bewhildered dog (played in puppet form by Kelia Terencio) is a constant quizzical presence, whether just observing the humans or losing control of his bladder or his stomach. 

This is a rare case of Belvoir serving up something fairly conventional, but they do it pretty well, and the ending brings everything together strongly in an emotional climax that rewards the viewing. audience. It's touching and heartfelt and a beautiful evening.

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812, Dalinghurst Theatre Company, Eternity Playhouse, 7 July-27 August

 Dave Molloy's 2012 musical adaptation of 72 pages roughly halfway through "War and Peace" is an eclectic show, shifting musical styles and dramatic style throughout as it tells the story of high-society Russians during the Napoleonic wars being caught up in games of lust and intrigue while just outside the town their compatriots are fighting for their lives. Darlinghurst Theatre company's production doubles down on the complexity by also letting most of the cast double as musicians, playing the score on a mixture of piano, piano accordion, bass, woodwinds, and drums, creating an evening of delightfully rich sonic and visual pleasure.  If there's a lot flying at us from the opening number (where the entire cast introduces their characters in simple couplets), we eventually settle into the story of Natasha's challenging encounters with her inlaws and her entwinement with the sinister Anatole, as it becomes increasingly clear how much is at threat.

Dean Dreiberg's production does have the sense of everything-and-the-kitchen sink being thrown at it - there's a lot of energy being thrown into scenes but emotional throughlines sometimes feel a little lost, for instance with P. Tucker Worley's performance as the elder Bolkonsky being played as broad caricature while Zoy Frangos' Pierre is emotionally self-lacerating as he reflects on himself and the world around him. It's not until about halfway through act one, during the Opera sequence, that we really get a sense of solid sealegs in the storytelling and the show begins to find its groove. It's still a show that rewards close attention and engagement, full of small details and surprises, and it'd be very easy to just see this as sound-and-fury-signifying not-very much - Dreiberg's directors' notes suggest a lot of improvisation and chasing options was done in the rehearsal room and the show doesn't really feel like the necessary analysis of options and focusing the show was done consistently - there's a love of energy-at-all-costs that makes the show a bit messier than it probably should be.

The cast throughout is committed and strong - each performer gives their all whether singing, dancing, acting or playing accompaniment, and it's a true ensemble piece from the titular pair all the way down to the energetic cameo of Balaga, the troika driver. Musical director Claire Healy has arranged her cast to both sing and play the score beautifully - the musical climax of the show in particular is an act of pure calm beauty which brings a central soul back to what's previously been a fairly frenetic evening. 

I don't think there's any way of doing "Natasha Pierre" in fully conventional theatrical terms - it's too eclectic and wild a score for that. But there surely is a way of doing it without some of the excesses that this prodeuction falls into - there's some ways in which the show suggests a lack of trust of the text without all the impositions. But it's still a rich thicket of theatre that's well worth diving into to find your way through to the moments of transcendent beauty and joy that lie within. 

Coil, re:group Performance Collective, The Q, 8-9 Aug (and subsequent dates in Bega, Logan, Redland, Darwin and Bondi to 8 September)

Photo by Lucy Parakhina (Feb 2022 production)

An inventive look at the quickly-departing culture of the suburban video shop, "Coil" combines personal confession, an examination of nostalgia, domestic and international economics, and cutting-edge video techniques into a delightful one-and-a-little-bit-hour show. 

There's an interesting structure to the show - Steve Wilson-Alexander introduces himself and the rest of the cast (Solomon Thomas on camera, Rose Maher on an onstage mixing-desk), as he talks about his career in theatre, his childhood friends, and his regular visits to a local video shop which closed in 2020. As he talks, Thomas films small snippets of material, apparently unrelated, with Maher assisting and confirming that they've captured the footage they need. Some of the material apparently fits into the context of Wilson-Alexander's narrative about the closure of the old local video shop, while others very definitely do not - Wilson-Alexander slips back and forth between the two effortlessly and smoothly, letting the tension build as we're not entirely sure what this material is going to be in aid of. Thomas' cameraman duties also extend to a certain amount of direction and guidance, and Maher occasionally leaves the mixing desk to provide support to the footage. At a certain point, Maher starts counting down from 10 to 1 as the last few shots are done ... then, after a short pause, we get to see the movie they've been making - using elements of Wilson Alexander's previous narrative and a separate story reflecting on some of the same issues of personal history and the double-sided knife of nostalgia. 

Hybrid-film-theatre projects have been around for a while but with the increased abilities of technology, it's become possible to do broader and more ambitious projects. Sydney Theatre Company's work on "The Picture of Dorian Grey" and "The Strange Case of Doctor Jeckyll and Mr Hyde" combined virtuosic technology with skillful performances to great effect, and to a certain extent, if those were the blockbuster movie versions of the techniques, this is the indie-flick version - more personal, smaller scale, but able to use those techniques more nimbly and cleverly, without the human scale being swamped by the decoration. 

The theme of nostalgia has been hitting me a lot this year (I turn 50 in November, so inevitably you're going to get reflective at that point) - theatre can often be a nostalgia machine, presenting familiar stories, songs, and productions in ways that go out of their way to not discomfort the audience very much. But the best of these use nostalgia to present a remix of the past, to combine the familiar with the innovative, and to push us into re-examining our memories in a different way - and "Coil" definitely ranks with the best of these. You have one more chance to catch this show on Wednesday night, and I'd definitely encourage you to catch this if you can.

Hay Fever, ACT Hub, 2-12 August

 Noel Coward's comedy is almost 100 years old, one of his first successes as the 25-year-old playwright used a personal experience of a weekend away staying with the artistic family of the actress Laurette Taylor and turned it into a play that has been a delight to actors and audiences ever since. Like all of his best-known plays ("Private Lives", "Present Laughter", "Blithe Spirit"), it's a comedy about egomaniacs crashing into each other and their not-so-egomaniacal victims, as all four members of the Bliss family invite a guest down to the weekend, only to seduce, ignore, abuse and terrify each of them in turn. 

Joel Horwood has managed to turn the tight little venue of the ACT Hub into a grand country manor by reconfiguring the stage into a thrusting wedge, with the normally-concealed backstage area opened out into a grand upstairs landing, the deployment of a few indoor plants and the right amount of classy draping and delicate props. He plays it carefully in period while doing a few light polishes on the script (at least one racially-dodgy joke is missing, and there's three gender-reversals in the cast, pushing Coward out of the pretense of a closet he was writing in during his era). There's a delight in letting his cast get deeper into their personas, whether it be floridly artistic, dryly sarcastic, lustful vamp, hearty-sporty-type or dimwitted himbo, and there's pleasure in exploring every possibility of the script to its limit. 

Andrea Close leads the cast as Judith Bliss, semi-retired actress who treats the world as her own personal melodrama stage - you can spot her in odd moments trialling different faces for reactions, ways of being fascinating and alluring. She's bewitching, enthralling, an emotional steamroller who could conquer the world if she wasn't so easily distracted, and she seizes any moment she's on stage with relish and power. It's a blessing to see her disappearing deeper and deeper into Judith's delightfully deluded persona, thinking she's charming her way out of everything while completely unaware how terrified her guests really are of her. Matching her in the family are Holly Ross as Sorel, the one member of the family who occasionally reflects on how brutal her family are being to the guests, but mostly as a moral weapon to wield against the rest of her family, not because she really seems to believe anything they're doing is particularly immoral so much as that she likes to scold the rest of her clan. Ross performs with a pitch pefect cut-glass accent which makes her an endearingly cunning fox, surprising us constantly. Steph Roberts plays other-mother Frances, the grumpy author who enters like an angry Zeus to interrogate her family, only to prove just as happy to tease the guests when required. Glenn Brighetti is the mercurial brother Simon, apt to turn from amorous to dismissive in a second, only to switch back again whenever the attention on him may be wandering. 

As the guest, Tracy Noble's Myra is the one theoretically most equipped to take on the Bliss', and therefore the one most thoroughly steamrollered by seduction and selective outrage - constantly thrown off-centre by the family. Joe Dinn gives his stiff-upper-lip a very thorough stretching as the constantly-trying-to-be-diplomatic-and-failing Richard, letting us see how far out of his comfort zone he really is. Meaghan Stewart brings gleeful heartiness to the role of athletic Sandy, constantly attempting to be a good team-player even as the rule of the game shift constantly around her. And Robbie Haltiner gives the dim himbo Jackie an endearing sweetness eveh as it's clear he doesn't really get what's going on around him and is vaguely upset by all of it. Alice Ferguson steals scenes wholesale as the annoyed-but-enjoying-getting-a-chance-to-be-annoyed maid Clara. 

The cast are bedecked in gorgeous Fiona Leach and Tanya Taylor outfits, sharp and sophisticated as appropriate. The play survives a century after its premiere because outsized egos and powerful pretension has never gone out of style, and because it's the kind of play that rewards the cast getting deeper and deeper into character - the more actressy Judith is, the heartier Sandy is, the more diplomatic Richard is, the funnier the play is. In all, this production is a delight, springtime on stage a whole month earlier than usual. 

Legacies, Q the Locals and Ribix Productions, The Q, 2-5 August

 

Rachel Pengilly writes and directs this story, based on her own family history, of six young Scottish stowaways on the cargo ship Arran, whose experiences shocked people back home when they came to light in 1868. It's a brutal but compelling story, and Pengilly has staged it well with strong visual stage pictures and, in the latter half, a strong dramatic thrust as the boys' experience becomes harsher and crueler. It's a spectacular-looking production on Mel and Lachlan Davies' stunningly beautiful set, lit to perfection by Jacob Aquillina, with careful but powerful sound design from Shannon Parnell. Hanna Pengilly's movement direction ensures we get the sense of the boy's environment, whether it be on ship, land, ice or in water. 

If there is anything to criticise, it's that the first half feels a little bogged down by some generic seafaring events - the driving force of the story doesn't show up until the last five minutes of act one - act two, by contrast, knows exactly where it's going and what it's about, and is compelling throughout. I understand Pengilly's desire not to tip her hand to where the story is going, but ultimately this leads to a slightly underpowered first act, followed by a powerhouse act two. 

The eleven-strong cast is powerful - the six boys, played by Phoebe Silberman, Tamara Brammsll, Tom Bryson, Joshua James, Zoe Ross and Jack Morton, all combine fresh-faced innocence and enthusiasm for adventure with the dawning dread of what's in store for them. There's a powerful dynamic between Tom Cullen's Captain Watt and Christopher Samuel Carroll's First Mate Kerr, as Watt is persuaded into making dreadful decisions - Carroll has a real knack for insidiousness. Tabby Silberman, Chips and Heidi Silberman make up the remaining ensemble, and pick out moments of compassion, honesty and truth. 

As a mainstage directoral debut, Pengilly has shown herself a powerfully skilled creator of stage pictures, finding a strong personal narrative and delivering it well. As a writer she's not quite as strong - the balance between the two acts isn't quite strong enough and Act One needs further work to really service the piece better. But when the story is wrapped up it's a powerful, personal tale, told well, and is a credit to the Q's "Q the Locals" series. 

Amadeus, Canberra Rep, 27 Jul-12 Aug

 Peter Shaffer's play is now 43 years old and has entered the canon as a contemporary classic - a rich text of grand passions, treating Shaffer's recurring topic of a young man inspired by god and an older man longing for a similar connection (also featuring in "Equus" and "Royal Hunt of the Sun"), using grandly theatrical presentation to tell the tale whether it be in modern England, 16th century South America or, as in this case, 18th century Vienna. In this case, there's extensive direct address by Salieri as he uses the audience to give his confession (or perhaps brag) about his involvement in the death of Mozart, long arias of anger, rage, self-justification, and contempt. It's a marathon role for a leading actor, and it's a challenge for any amateur company to find a leading man who can bear the brunt of it.

Canberra Rep has certainly found the actor for the occasion. Jim Adamik's normally been seen as one of our finest comic actors, able to turn incredulousity to any ridiculous farcical turn, able to turn a quip with skill and with a fine line in buffoonery. He turns those skills into something much darker as Antonio Salieri, giving full force to Salieri's pleadings, wrath, and self-perception, finding tormented delight in Mozart's compositional genius even as he builds hatred for the man himself - plotting and subtly influencing behind the scenes to diminish Mozart's chances. We're in the hands of a master performer the entire evening, and it's an absolute pleasure.

Which is not to say that this is a one man show - there's a vast sea of support under Adamik to keep this rolling, whether it be Cate Clelland's assured flowing direction and stylishly simple set, Deborah Huff-Horwood's stylish costumes (with the assistance of a team of 14), Nathan Scibberas' assured lighting, grand presentation of the music from Neville Pye's sound team (with the assistance of Christine Faron and Justin Mullins on Fortepiano), and a strong supporting cast. Jack Shanahan's boisterous Mozart is sublimely irritating from his first entrance to desperately pitiable in his decline, Sienna Curnow's Costanze goes from playmate to wife to caregiver with joy and compassion, Neil McLeod, David H Bennett, Tony Falla and Ian Russell all deliver pomposity and grandness as various members of the Viennese court, and Michael J. Smith and Justice-Noah Malfitano as the gossipy Venticello bring style and flair whenever they appear. 

This is grand, ambitious theatre, pure and marvellous. It's presented with style, verve, and, in Adamik's case, powerful intensity. It's a memorable production of a powerful play and is absoulutely recommended.