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.