Trent Dalton's Love Stories, a QPAC / Brisbane Festival production, Canberra Theatre, 24-27 September - subsequent tour to Darwin Entertainment Centre (2 – 4 October) and HOTA Gold Coast (9 – 11 October).

 A writer sits in a public square asking people to tell him about their love stories. A simple premise, played here with a mix of storytelling, video, and choreography, looking at all types of love (romantic, familial, friendships, even self-actualisation). It's a technically sophisticated telling of these stories, beginning with live video of the audience and various written declarations from the audience of their definition of love. We're introduced to the writer (Jason Klarwein), and the location, a busy pedestrian mall in Brisbane, where various regulars approach the writer with their stories or where their story is pulled out of them - with stories mixing from being told directly the audience, playing out told directly to a wandering camerman (Anthony Dyer) or in a couple of instances just played on the big screen on the back of the stage. The stories are tied together by a framing device about the writer's own relationship with his wife (Anna McGahan) but the heart and the soul of the show is some immactulate ensemble work from the cast - including the radiant Valerie Bader, the warmly yearning Bryan Proberts, the stoicly strong Kirk Page, the joyous Will Tran, the heart-rending Ngoc Phan and the warm movements between Jacob Watton and Hsin-Ju Ely. 

It's spectacularly well technically managed, with life editing and effects work from video systems tech Josh Braithwaite, and uses the full size of the Canberra theatre stage better than a lot of attempts to put plays on the bigger theatre - often plays can get swallowed whole by the space which lives more comfortably with concerts, but this one manages to fill the theatre to the back row with heart, soul and theatrical skill. If it's very much a Queensland story put on tour, well, all universal stories are local stories at their heart, and the specifics make the universal elements stand out more. Director Sam Strong and adapter Tim McGarry integrate the combination of spectacle and human moments well, with the assistance of choreographer Nerida Matthaei. It's simultaneously the simplest posisble thing - storytelling between cast and audience - and utilising the finest of modern tech to do that, and it never trips over its feet once in doing that.

I Watched Someone Die on Tiktok, Canberra Theatre Centre New Works, Courtyard Studio, 19-21 Sept

 

Charlotte Otton's solo show is a one hour dive into the extremes of social media - how a young woman growing up in a social media age has been affected by exposure to extreme images of life, death, trauma and sexuality. For someone around 15 years older than her, it's a reflection of all our worst fears of the web (and I say that as someone currently typing this review onto the web, who's aware that I wouldn't be doing this on a regular basis if the web didn't exist, and I've been pretty directly told by traditional media owners that I wouldn't be hired by them because I don't hold a relevant degree, just ... you know, several decades of being an audience, reading theatrical literature, and writing this stuff... no, I'm not bitter at all, how dare you suggest that). 

Back to Otton's show for a second - she sells her material with precision, singing, embodying, narrating and trauma-dumping like a demon. It's a tight show, circling its point and provoking all kinds of thoughts while the multimedia screens play a curated set of material from social media that merely hint at the level of 

There is a wider debate about whether social media is just the same sins that always existed with the barriers removed - the salaciousness of reporting on Jack the Ripper in the 19th century, for example, is from the same source as a modern true-crime reporting on any violent act today - but it's certainly true that the guardrails of editing and control are off. And reckoning with the implications of that is a big topic that Otton explores with precision and skill. 

Lend Me A Tenor, Free-Rain Theatre, ACT Hub, 17-27 Sept

(photo by Janelle McMenamin)

 Ken Ludwig's 1986 farce was a retro charmer even at its first productions - set in the 30s in a grand opera company in Cleveland, where two tenors, a stressed impresario, a demure ingenue, a wife, an ambitious soprano, a daffy dame, and a fanboy bellhop all collide over the course of one long afternoon and the following night. I've enjoyed it for many years -on tour in 1993 in Wollongong with Stuart Wagstaff, Rowena Wallace and Maggie Kirkpatrick, working backstage on Rep's 2006 run with Steph Roberts, Colin Milner and Andrew Kay, and now back in the audience almost 20 years later. It's still a delightful romp, using the Feydeau formula of people in lavish clothing chasing each other around from the most primal of emotions - lust, expediency, wrath, rage, and fear. 

In Cate Clelland's production, it's in the hands of a master. Timing is perfect to hit every laugh, with a cast game for everything and a set and costumes that are the peak of era-appropriate chic. Farce is the kind of thing that can easily fall off the rails if the audience has a moment to think "hey, wouldn't they do something else if they thought about that for a second..." so the answer is to go full throttle and get the performers doing something at all times to avoid thinking about it too much. And given everything that the performers are doing is delightful, it's easy to forget about any plot holes. 

Central to the production is John Whinfield as the sweet-natured Max, the dogsbody who rises through circumstance to become a conquering hero - Whinfield is sweetness personified, an underdog we're desperate to see come through and one we celebrate the triumph of. Around him is Michael Sparks doing some great seething as the constantly-stressed impressario Henry Saunders, most of the rage kept under for as long as possible before sudden explosions. Maxine Beaumot has the right mix of sweet-natured and inner determination as the not-entirely-innocent-but-we-don't-mind ingenue, Christina Falsone brings Italian passion and fire to the role of Maria, William "Wally" Allington brings a sweet nature to the slightly egotistical tenor Tito, Meaghan Stewart is all the right kinds of sultry vamp as Diana, Sally Cahill is deligthfully scatterbrained as the socialite chair of the opera, and Justice-Noah Malfitano is just the right kind of irritant as the sarcastic bellhop. (Whinfield and Allington are both also required to sing a duet from Verdi's "Don Carlos" to convince us they both would pass as opera-suitable tenors and both pass that test with flying colours)

Fourty years after it first premired, this is still a charmer - after rewrites to change the opera from "Otello" to "Pagliacci" (thus removing unfortunate blackface), a sequel, a musical and a genderswap to become "Lend me a Soprano", the bones of the original still hold true and in its current incarnation it should be bringing delight to audiences at the Hub for the next week-and-a-bit. 

Lizzy, D'Arcy and Jane, Canberra Repertory Society, Canberra Rep Theatre, 4-20 Sept

 

Joanna Norland's play looks at the creation of "Pride and Prejudice" in the context of Jane Austen's own romantic entanglements, with Lizzie's fate in her novel varying as Jane's own pursuit of love refuses to run smoothly. On the 250th anniversary of Austen's birth, it's probably worthwhile having some kind of celebration of her, but unfortunately the play itself is a little pallid - Austen comes across here as a somewhat nervy character, who seems to be very easily influenced by her characters into letting them have their own fate, rather than the behind-the-scenes mastermind plotting everything intricately together. Still, Alexandra Pelvin's production gives it a solid production, empire-line-dresses and stylish scenery and all, in a production that has some liveliness in some of the performances even when it doesn't perhaps entirely exist in the script. 

Dylan Hayley Rosenthal as Lizzie has a good wilful cynicism as the character requires, with a certain twinkle in her eye. Sterling Notley manages a tricky trio of roles as an amiable Bingley, a snotty younger Harris and a somewhat more vulnerable older one, and various modes of odiousness as Mr Collins. And Rachel Hogan drips imperious power in incarnating the dreaded Lady Catherine De Bourgh. 

Eliza Gulley frocks the ladies and frock-coats the gentlemen appropriately, and Kayla Ciceran gives a nicely open design for story to take place. 

I've liked some of Rep's other attempts at Austen but unfortunately, here, the play itself wasn't really enough to hold my attention - Austen's writing remains fascinating but, at least here, her personal life just doesn't have the same draw for me. For others it might.

The Cadaver Palaver: A Bennett Cooper Sullivan Adventure, Bare Witness Theatre Company, Canberra Theatre Centre New Works, Courtyard Studio, 12-14 Sept

 

Christopher Samuel Carroll has prepared a delightful one-man tribute to Victorian adventurers, with dramatic twists, battles, secrets and saucy seductions aplenty, delivered by Carroll with vocal and physical dexterity as he takes us from far eastern dens of iniquity to the backstreets of Edinburgh with brisk efficiency.

To a certain extent this is a simple vehicle for Carroll to show off his skills and he serves himself well - relishing his words with linguistic glee, and using various physical gags, intense pacing and a spectacular moustache to tell his tale. It's a convoluted conspiratorial narrative where ... well, some secrets need to be kept, but I can safely say that Cadavers and Palavers certainly feature high on the agenda.  Sullivan gets himself into and out of all manner of sticky situations along the way to a suitably dramatic conclusion, by way of a dramatic opening and several dramatic confrontations along the way.

 Carroll is assisted by nothing more than a set of around five Persian carpets on the ground and some sympathetic lighting by Ash Basham, operated by Riley Whinett. With nothing more than a dashing brown suit, a cane and a largely bare stage, he conjures up a whole victorian world of intrigue, adventure and suspense with aplomb, and I hope for further Bennett Cooper Sullivan adventures (or whatever else strikes Carroll's fancy) in the future.