Home I'm Darling, Canberra Rep, Theatre 3, 22 June-8 July

 Laura Wade's 2018 comedy-drama uses what looks like a domestic comedy to look deeper at the motives behind nostalgia, the tensions in contemporary relationships and the nature of personal choice - it's a stealth weapon using the visual aesthetics to deliver a lot of provocative ideas. It builds on a simple premise (what if a modern couple decided to live like it was the 1950s) and looks at what that designed choice would really look like - is the changing world really that ignorable and can you just cherry-pick the desirable look from the cultural values that underpinned it?

Alexandra Pelvin's production plays both the aesthetics and the truth of the situation -  it looks visually spectacular (between Andrew Kay's lush set, Helen Drum's period outfits, and some well=chosen props and set dressing by Gail Cantile, Anne Gallen, and Antonia Kitzel), and it also is able to engage deeply in the ideas, feeling the very contemporary anxieties that drive the characters. There's an element of fantasy in the staging (particularly the way lead character Judy moves, every step carefully considered), but also reality in the emotions underpinning everything. It's a masterful look at the text that brings out every nuance.

She's aided by a strong cast, led by Karina Hudson as domestic Goddess Judy - you can see her thinking and trying to position herself just right, and you can also see the panic behind her eyes as things don't quite pan out to what her fantasy is. Judy pushes quite far in her attempts to maintain the fantasy and Hudson makes every choice believable and relatable - we know exactly where it's coming from and how she's got herself in as far as she's gotten. In support are Ryan Street, as her conflicted husband Johnny - willing to play along til it all becomes overwhelming; Natalie Waldron as her friend Fran, with a foot in both now-and-then, with her own obvious blinkers about what she's living in; Terry Johnson as Fran's partner Marcus, a James Mason-ish sophisticate who emerges as something truly disturbing; Adele Lewin as her mother Sylvia who tries to dash Judy's fantasies with a few choice words of reality but has her own blinkers on about how their shared past has shaped Judy's choices; and Kayla Ciceran as Johnny's boss Alex, practical and businesslike but also human and willing to play along with the two nostalgiacs she's engaging in until, again, elements of the fantasy start to disturb her.

Altogether this is a thought provoking, intelligent, stylish production that digs a little deeper than you may expect. Well worth going out in a Canberra Winter.

Pony, Griffin Theatre Company, Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre Centre, 23 June-1 July

 "Pony" is a slick, funny comedy monologue about a 37-year-old woman dealing with a messy family history and an upcoming pregnancy, with wit, aggression, and a take-no-prisoners honesty. Elouise Snape has created a character who's easy for an audience to take to their hearts - genial, friendly, blunt, and very full of Too Much Information which she's willing to impart. Director Anthea Williams stages it on a glittering stage reflective of both nightclub culture and with a prominent rocking horse indicating the child-on-its-way and also Hazel's own not-quite-grown-up-ness. Briallen Clarke gives Hazel a whole lot of warmth that isn't necessarily completely in the text and rounds out the character into a very real, very approachable young woman. 

Clearly, I'm not the same demographic as the character (I'm a 49-year-old gay man who, barring sudden surprises in my life, is probably not going to be raising children), and therefore a story that talks about the meaning of maternity in a woman's life is largely of theoretical interest to me. And this does feel a little bit of a throwback to 80's works like "Baby Boom" and "The Heidi Chronicles" which ultimately settled on women finding meaning through maternity - they felt at the time like a bit of a feminist backlash and this slightly feels that way as well, reducing a female character largely to her child-rearing-potential (the one mention of her career doesn't entirely make it clear how she earns a crust - she talks about being in community radio, which I know from multiple years experience doesn't pay most of its volunteers - does she have a co-ordinating role that actually pays? It shouldn't matter but it's not really made clear how she earns a crust). 

Look, this is, as I said, a very funny, modern play that feels ready for many young actresses to perform highly successfully (while Clarke gives it a performance that feels definitive and Williams gives it a staging that is striking and specific). And I have no doubt this will be a great success for many, and no one play can define all of a woman's experiences, nor should it try to. But this does come across as a more conventional play than it should, coming from Griffin. 

Come from Away, Junkyard Dog and Rodney Rigby, Canberra Theatre, 17 June-9 July

 

I've reviewed this production before, several years back on its long, covid-disrupted tour around Australia (link to my previous review here. And I've had these tickets booked for me and my husband for around two and a half years. It's a pleasure to say that the show is every bit as charming, warm, personal, and all round enjoyable in June 2023 as it was in December 2019. And it should deservedly have packed houses delighted for the next three weeks.

The question is why does this show, largely about events 22 years ago, originally staged in 2013 and developing in multiple productions across Canada and the US to premiere on Broadway in 2017 and in Australia and London in 2019, work? It's a very unconventional musical - based on interviews with those participating in the events it documents, with a score made up largely of Canadian Folk music sung by an ensemble of 12 with no real "star parts" (the closest it comes to a conventional music-theatre moment is the pilot's song "Me and the Sky"), presented with minimal bells and whistles (the cast swap characters with a switch of a shirt or a hat, on a set made up of chairs and tables, using a revolve and a simple yet effective lighting rig sparingly).  And the effect of all that simplicity is to make it an incredibly human-scale show, telling a tale of a community that makes us feel like part of it. It's not pollyanna-ish about it, and, being Canadian, it's never Gung Ho American about the topic. Being based on verbatim theatre techniques enhances how very real it feels, down to the loose ends of the story, with some characters left hurt in ways that don't have easy repairs. It's about the joys of community, but also the small ways that communities can set up boundaries around themselves which hurt all the more when you see how easy acceptance is for everyone else. And it's about small joys and losses in a bigger context, about the personal perspective on a giant event, and about the power of that scale. 

I'm incredibly joyous I got a chance to share this show with my husband, and I hope the rest of my community gets to share in it too over the next three weeks. 

Marry Me a Little, Everyman Theatre, ACT Hub, 14-24 June.

I'm a sucker for Everyman, I'm a sucker for Sondheim and I'm a sucker for discovering Sondheim songs I've never heard before in a different context. So this show is pretty much my kryptonite. Never mind that there's a poster for the one show I've been in with Everyman on the set, the Everyteam pretty much had me from the second this show was announced. 

But even better, the show is a delight. Originally assembled in 1980 by aspiring chorus-member Craig Lucas (who also played the male lead) and director Norman Rene (both later to collaborate on a series of plays including "Reckless" and "Prelude to a Kiss", plus the film "Longtime Companion") from Stephen Sondheim songs that hadn't made it into a musical yet (songs written for a TV plays, cut from their respective shows or from shows that didn't get produced- - including two that have made it back to their respective shows in revival (in particular the title song, which has been the act one closer for "Company" since the revivals in the 1990s). A small scale off-broadway revue assembled, without dialogue, into a story of two lonely people yearning for connection but never quite getting one, it's been a popular candidate for revival ever since due to its small scale, the ever-appealing desire of actors to sing a lot of Sondheim, and its mix of the old and new. Being written in 1980 meant that it largely focuses on the first three Sondheim-Prince shows (Company, Follies, and A Little Night Music) with their emphasis on the challenges of interpersonal relationships (Pacific Overtures was presumably overlooked due to Lucas writing for himself and not being Asian, and Sweeney was skipped because the only cut songs from that show involve flagellation and tooth pulling). 

It's cast to perfection. Hannah Lance and Alexander Unikowski blend together beautifully when harmonising together from the opening number onwards. And both have powerhouse solos too - Lance's first solo, "Can that Boy Foxtrot" is an official "watch out for this actress" announcement, hilarious throughout when performing with a few fruits and vegetables, and her later "Marry Me A Little" is a straight-down-successful audition for playing the female Bobbie when that version of "Company" has the rights available (noting that, yes, there are at least half-a-dozen Canberra actresses in their thirties I want to see in that role already, but Hannah just made it seven). Alexander Unikowski's already been a multiple-threat in the pit as music-directror, playing six different instruments and as a composer, but he adds singer, actor, and even sorta-dancer to his bow, giving emotion and fun to his performance as the other frustrated single, yearning beautifully. 

 Director Jarrad West does assured work, directing briskly and efficiently, with innovative approaches bringing the show out of 1980 and right into 2023. I'm not entirely in love with the device of using mobile phone-texts to the audience as part of the show (I never want to be required to look away from the actors during a show, but it's a nice set of permanent easter-eggs in my pocket after the show), but I also accept that I'm 49 and a younger audience is probably able to multitask better than me. 

Music director Elizabeth Alford has got the cast vocalising beautifully and plays piano accompaniment throughout, playing Sondheim's shifty rhythms with drive and purpose. Sound Designer Nathan Patrech gives a startlingly New York soundscape at the top of the show, Set designer Michael Sparks manages to create a cramped apartment that also has plenty of room for the performers to dance, sing and maneuver, Fiona Leach gives both cast members a fetching set of work-wear and pyjamas, and Craig Mueller's lighting picks out spots of focus to keep the show moving. 

If you want to see great performers performing great songs in a great production, you should absolutely see this. It's a delight, it's a discovery, it's like musical chocolate mousse, rich, smooth, and oh so delicious.  

Garry Starr: Greece Lightning, Smiths Alternative, June 11

 

So it does seem like Gary Starr has been going out of his way to avoid being seen by me - I intended to catch this show in April last year at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival before Covid canceled one of his performances, and last weekend's run of "Garry Starr Performs Everything" at the Q, unfortunately, coincided with me being in Sydney. But Smiths Alternative comes through with a bonus run, meaning I can finally catch up with Garry. 

And what a blessing this was. A thoroughly ridiculous take on Greek Mythology with a side order of puns, mispronunciations, classic sitcom themes, ridiculous props, audience interactions, interpretive dance, and increasing levels of nudity, this is simultaneously super-high-brow and super-low-brow, requiring both a knowledge of the classical canon and an appreciation of a good bum joke. Garry is a great comedy character, an enthusiastic idiot throwing himself wholeheartedly into whatever stupid concept rolls up next, never letting the mask of dimwitted perseverance drop, even after this show has toured all over the place for over a year - it still feels as fresh and spontaneous as if it were something pulled together yesterday. 

Damien Warren-Smith, the performer behind Garry, is a skilled improviser and shows no shame in doing the increasingly ridiculous work the show requires of him, from his opening goofy dance to carefully gathering audience participants, to his costume slipping away to reveal a g-string that is, frankly, more obscene than the full-frontal nudity we also get at the end of the show. His way of developing Garry's malapropisms, his commitment-to-a-bit and his enthusiastic building of the audience's enthusiasm til we're all willing to play along with whatever he throws our way next is a wonder to behold, simply at a level of basic performance skill, never mind the way it also manages to make you laugh continuously from beginning to end, He's a goddamn genius and we're lucky to have him. I'll certainly be keeping an eye out for when he's back next.

Do Not Go Gentle, Sydney Theatre Company, Ros Packer Theatre, 23 May-17 June 2023

 It's interesting in a week which saw Peter Wilkins host a forum on independent theatre which featured extensive discussion on how the mainstream theatres limit access for independent voices to see a mainstream theatre picking up a show born out of the independent theatre space Fourtyfivedownstairs in Melbourne brought into the biggest venue of one of Australia's most well funded mainstream theatre companies, given a cast made up of performers whose careers kinda coincide with Australian Theatrical History.

Would that I could say this is a complete triumph. Unfortunately, I think Patricia Cornelius's tough, emotional drama using Scott's doomed Antarctic endeavor as a metaphor for end-of-life regrets and anxieties falls down under the weight of an overly realistic design that only occasionally lets the emotional turmoil bubbling under really rise to the surface. It's a beautiful set by Charles Davis, a beautifully scultpured Antarctic landscape, intimidating and grand and powerful, but it doesn't serve for the shifts between the two realities as our six central explorers shift into isolated people facing their own estrangement from their loved ones and their own memories. It falls into a formal grandeur that takes a while to really feel human - particularly Phillip Quast as the speechifying Scott, who only really starts to melt in the last 20 mintues of the show. 

The highlights of the cast, for me, were Vanessa Dowling as the blithely good-natured Wilson, where it only becomes apparent what's hiding beneath the sunny side as we get to know more. Brigid Zhengeni as the mordant Bowers is the youngest of the central group, aware that she should be holding onto the world around her much more than she's actually able to, desparing of what's slipping away. John Gaden and Peter Carroll have the perils of familiarity - there are notes in both their performances that I've seen before in the last 30-odd years of seeing them on Sydney stages, and while neither of them are actively bad, neither give performances that particularly adds to their repertoire. 

I'm afraid this felt like a piece that would have hit a lot harder in a smaller venue, and the risk of having to program a season using as big a theatre as the Ros Packer means sometimes shows don't quite go into them as cleanly as they look like they should. Yes, on the surface the grand scale of the Scott expedition should suit the big theater down to the ground, but in reality that's not the play Cornelius has written and it feels awkwardly placed in this theatre. 

Scenes from the Climate Era, Belvoir Street Theatre, 27 May-25 June 2023

 David Finnigan's been one of the smartest, most provocative writers of the last couple of years- the 2018 production of "Kill Climate Deniers" (reviewed here) launched him onto the national scene as a fast-moving, fiercely intellectual writer who knew how to entertain an audience even as he made them think. Canberrans who had seen his fondness for the short play as a form already knew this, but "Climate Deniers", provocative title very much attached, made him someone worth watching for more of.

And this time he's back with a kaleidoscopic view of the "Climate Era", the times we're living in, where ecological disasters are happening on a weekly basis around the planet, where the future is not a question of whether we can avoid a dire fate but how many of those dire fates will pile up how fast.  But it's not just a grim collection of statistics tied together for 80 minutes - there's reflections, interrogations, humour, tragedy, emotion and a real sense of both the complexity and the urgency of the problem.

Clarissa Liciardello's production handles a challenging script with aplomb and one huge coup-de-theatre that should not be spoiled (but is the reason why the show has a celiac warning). But for much of the show, it's a simple five-actor-half-a-dozen-chairs-and-a-table show, and Liciardello manages the tone of the show exactly - it's fast without being glib, melancholy without being self-indulgent and constantly shifting in tone without ever feeling anything but unified. It's a deeply invigorating show with a capable ensemble, able to play each of the scenes to their limit without ever making the evening feel heavy. It's a true triumph of theatremaking, with all the tech crew working together to make it work - lighting/set designer Nick Schlieper, costume designer Ella Butler and the intrepid stage management of Luke McGettigan and Christopher Starnawski. 

This kind of show is exactly why Belvoir exists - to bring the modern world into the theatre, and stage it with skill and intelligence to great effect. I left the theare buzzing with excitement . You should too.