Writer Brendan Cowell has served as a useful "good luck" sign for some of Canberra's younger theatre companies - Centrepiece performed his play "Men" in 2005 as their second production, and the current incarnation of NUTS did his play "Bed" in 2008, also fairly early on in their run. He's a tough, funny writer with a great ear for dialogue and an eye for modern Australian society that cuts pretty deep.
His play Ruben Guthrie is about a young successful ad-writer who begins to come unstuck when his drug-and-alcohol fuelled lifestyle sends him into Alcoholics Anonymous. As he begins to redefine his relationship with alcohol, his relationships with his fiance, his parents, his job and his best friend are also redefined.
It's a very solid play with a marathon lead role for the actor playing Ruben - and at first, I was worried Lewis Meegan wasn't up to the task. He started off running his lines very fast, almost gabbling them into incomprehensibility- as Ruben's first AA meeting tells about the incident that got him there. But he settles into a good groove as Ruben's journey softens him and strips him of his certainties, Meegan hits the necessary emotional notes soundly.
Elsewhere, both the writing and the performances sometimes skate the edge of caricature - in particular, Ruben's mum and dad (played by Dean Batten and Jessica Symonds) - who get all the laughs from the script required, but don't often get any deeper (though Batten's final line does hit the heart like a sledgehammer). Part of Cowell's point here is that Ruben's alcoholism isn't just a personal phenomenon - it's part of a family cycle - but by playing the parents as just figures of fun, you lose the tragi-part of the tragi-comedy.
As Ruben's boss, Michael Bones similarly doesn't really get past the one note caricature level of the sleazy enabler (the writing has a few more complex notes as the character's also an addict, but they're not really engaged with very much).
Ruben's two girlfriends - teenage Czechoslovakian supermodel Zoya (Gabrielle Dutton) , and fellow AA member Virginia (Alexandra Davis)- are probably the most under-written of the roles - partially, I think, because to explore them and round them more fully bears the threat that it may make Ruben's behaviour less likeable and expose that his behaviour pre-and-post AA can be quite self-serving. There's indications that Zoya's suffered quite a lot at the hands of Ruben (he's reported as starting his relationship with her when she was 16 and he was 26, which is borderline paedophilic), but with it only being reported rather than shown, it's not something the audience can really take to heart, and Zoya's really never allowed to be vulnerable. Similarly, Virginia's clearly got her own personal history and baggage that she brings into the relationship, which is fascinating material to mine, and builds up to the end of the first act - then is largely thrown away so that she can be discarded offstage as part of Ruben's downward spiral. Casting similarly aged actors as Ruben, Zoya and Virginia really hurts here - the script suggests Virginia can be a decade older than Ruben, and that age gap may have given the relationship that extra side it needs (although I still think Cowell writing Virginia out offstage is a massive mis-step).
Ruben's best mate Damian runs away with some of the best comedy of the play, and in Alex Battye's performance, we get our other character that gets to three dimensions. Blokey, companionate, and ultimately dark enabler, Battye hits the cynical notes and the heartfelt ones strongly and clearly.
The set, by Shaun Wykes, is nicely adaptable and looks gorgeous (all those tempting bottles of alcohol, which ... would make for a great cast party at the end of the season, except that after weeks of rehearsing and performing a play on the dangers of alcholism, perhaps everyone would be happier with mineral water and a salada). Lighting by Owen Horton gives the tiny space of the Drama lab different moods and feels in good style. One minor props note - when the characters start consuming mountains of cocaine towards the end, I picked up the odour of scented baby powder, which ... I'm pretty sure was not the intent.
I've found myself more critical of this production while writing than I was while watching it - the broadness of some of the performances is entertaining in the theatre, but less handy when writing critically. And this is an incredibly engaging piece - just one that, maybe, doesn't quite cut as deep in this production as it could have. But given 90% of people probably go to the theatre to enjoy themselves rather than have their hearts ripped out and stomped on repeatedly, I'm not sure this matters to anyone else.
Friday, 24 May 2013
Saturday, 18 May 2013
Word Play, Boho Interactive
Is it theatre? Cinema? TV? Gaming? Whatever it is, Word Play is a live interactive experience from Boho Interactive, who've been presenting work where the audience gets more involved than is usual. In this case, it's a live broadcast from a forestry laboratory in Yarralumla to the Discovery Centre at Black Mountain Laboratories, where three actors get to tell a post-apocalyptic disaster story, about a disastrous plague and the quest for a possible solution. The interactivity comes up as the audience gets to message the cast at various points in the story, asking questions and providing directions, either via SMS or via a specially built phone app for iphone or android (and it's worth getting the app rather than doing it by SMS, the app is very well designed to suit the production).
And it's when it's interactive that this show really comes alive - either with the audience getting to ask open questions, or give open directions to the characters (a midshow sequence where the audience is asked to give instructions is particularly a highlight, partially because, well, the audience are shifty bastards and often give perversely wrong instructions just to see if the actors follow them ... and they do!). It really does give a live-ness to the situation that being shown-via-webcast doesn't always permit (after all, you're not in the same room as the actors). Some of the other interactivity is a bit more obligatory of the "because it's there" - there's a sequence where the entire role of the audience is to determine in what order the exposition is going to be in, which isn't that much fun - whatever the audience chooses, the whole set of stories is going to be told anyway, so the choice is somewhat arbitrary.
Elsewhere, when the show isn't being interactive, there are highs and lows. The script feels a little bit in love with its own exposition - the ultimate nature of the threat is actually quite simple (and appropriately terrifying), but it works better by being shown rather than being talked about, as it starts to physically affect our three characters - and the first half hour or so is very talk heavy. The presentation by multiple web-cams is technically pretty sound (each cast member has a webcam attached to them, plus a couple of webcams placed around the set also pick up alternate angles, and all editing is done live) and a credit to director Marissa Martin and her tech team.
I think this falls more into the territory of "interesting experiment" rather than "completely successful" - it could use a little tightening round the edges, but the performances by Euan Bowen, Raoul Craemer and Cathy Petocz are solid and committed, and there's interesting ideas here worth exploring. So worth having a look.
And it's when it's interactive that this show really comes alive - either with the audience getting to ask open questions, or give open directions to the characters (a midshow sequence where the audience is asked to give instructions is particularly a highlight, partially because, well, the audience are shifty bastards and often give perversely wrong instructions just to see if the actors follow them ... and they do!). It really does give a live-ness to the situation that being shown-via-webcast doesn't always permit (after all, you're not in the same room as the actors). Some of the other interactivity is a bit more obligatory of the "because it's there" - there's a sequence where the entire role of the audience is to determine in what order the exposition is going to be in, which isn't that much fun - whatever the audience chooses, the whole set of stories is going to be told anyway, so the choice is somewhat arbitrary.
Elsewhere, when the show isn't being interactive, there are highs and lows. The script feels a little bit in love with its own exposition - the ultimate nature of the threat is actually quite simple (and appropriately terrifying), but it works better by being shown rather than being talked about, as it starts to physically affect our three characters - and the first half hour or so is very talk heavy. The presentation by multiple web-cams is technically pretty sound (each cast member has a webcam attached to them, plus a couple of webcams placed around the set also pick up alternate angles, and all editing is done live) and a credit to director Marissa Martin and her tech team.
I think this falls more into the territory of "interesting experiment" rather than "completely successful" - it could use a little tightening round the edges, but the performances by Euan Bowen, Raoul Craemer and Cathy Petocz are solid and committed, and there's interesting ideas here worth exploring. So worth having a look.
Tuesday, 7 May 2013
Frankenstein, Ensemble Theatre
Nick Dear's adaptation of Mary Shelly's classic begins with the creature's birth - experienced from the perspective of the newborn, stumbling, shambling into a world that he's an outcast in. It's an arresting point to begin the story, and a fine introduction to Lee Jones' performance as the un-named creature - a lonely, confused, desperate figure who is assimilating everything for the first time.
And this is an unusually close adaptation of Mary Shelly's work, echoing her themes of the moral responsibility of a creator to his creation (including a lot of literary allusions to John Milton's "Paradise Lost"). This isn't the mute or mumbling figure Boris Karloff or Christopher Lee provided - he only returns to take his revenge after he's been educated enough to know just how far he's been wronged. It trims extensively (Shelly's framing device is gone, as is roughly the first hundred pages of the book), but intelligently, focusing on getting to the meat of the material.
There's some other great performances in here that should be acknowledged - Michael Ross as the blind man who takes the creature in and gives him his first demonstrations of kindness and education, Katie Fitchett as Elizabeth, Doctor Frankenstein's fiance and the one person who gets to argue with both the Doctor and the Creature about the destructive nature of their mutual obsessions (her observation that "if you wanted to create life, maybe you could have got me pregnant" cuts right to the heart of the matter). Andrew Henry's Victor Frankenstein is less successful - though the script is somewhat loaded against him, all our sympathies are going to be with the newborn outcast rather than the intellectual who disowns responsibility - still, Henry gives us a Doctor Frankenstein who is more a simpering wimp than a magnificently arrogant bastard.
Kilmurray's staging is mostly pretty good (though it looses flow a little in one or two scene transitions) - the simple design highlights the performances and the text. The live musical accompaniment (performed by Heather Stratfold, composed by Elena Kats-Chermin) keeps the mood tense and engaging throughout.
I was kinda expecting to love this, but instead this fell into the "good, but not great"... I think unfortunately due to the uneven nature of the sparring partners - Jones clearly dominates the story at every turn, meaning the drama is somewhat diminished. But this is still an effective evening in the theatre, telling a classic story in modern style.
And this is an unusually close adaptation of Mary Shelly's work, echoing her themes of the moral responsibility of a creator to his creation (including a lot of literary allusions to John Milton's "Paradise Lost"). This isn't the mute or mumbling figure Boris Karloff or Christopher Lee provided - he only returns to take his revenge after he's been educated enough to know just how far he's been wronged. It trims extensively (Shelly's framing device is gone, as is roughly the first hundred pages of the book), but intelligently, focusing on getting to the meat of the material.
There's some other great performances in here that should be acknowledged - Michael Ross as the blind man who takes the creature in and gives him his first demonstrations of kindness and education, Katie Fitchett as Elizabeth, Doctor Frankenstein's fiance and the one person who gets to argue with both the Doctor and the Creature about the destructive nature of their mutual obsessions (her observation that "if you wanted to create life, maybe you could have got me pregnant" cuts right to the heart of the matter). Andrew Henry's Victor Frankenstein is less successful - though the script is somewhat loaded against him, all our sympathies are going to be with the newborn outcast rather than the intellectual who disowns responsibility - still, Henry gives us a Doctor Frankenstein who is more a simpering wimp than a magnificently arrogant bastard.
Kilmurray's staging is mostly pretty good (though it looses flow a little in one or two scene transitions) - the simple design highlights the performances and the text. The live musical accompaniment (performed by Heather Stratfold, composed by Elena Kats-Chermin) keeps the mood tense and engaging throughout.
I was kinda expecting to love this, but instead this fell into the "good, but not great"... I think unfortunately due to the uneven nature of the sparring partners - Jones clearly dominates the story at every turn, meaning the drama is somewhat diminished. But this is still an effective evening in the theatre, telling a classic story in modern style.
Saturday, 4 May 2013
When the Rain Stops Falling, NUTS.
Student theatre is a place where the reviewer treads warily. There's a lot of not-quite-ripe talent out there, often pushing themselves in plays which are way outside their abilities, leading to something which is clearly an educational experience for the performers but means very little to an audience member.
And "When The Rain Stops Falling" should be a case in point - it's a challenging work, an epic covering almost 80 years and two different countries, beginning with a long monologue and continuing with a long scene entirely without words. It contains two love stories, three fathers with distant or non-existant relationships with their sons, several tragedies and mysteries, and at least one bone-fide miracle. The original production that played Canberra in 2010, was gorgeously cast, designed, directed and scored and is one of my top ten theatre memories. So ... how do NUTS do?
Surprisingly ... very very well. The design is simple without being sterile - a minimalist joy. Not all the performances work entirely (one or two moments get a tad histrionic or else don't quite hit the emotional notes they're aiming for) - and the usual problem of casting early-twenty-somethings as people in their forties and fifties are visible, as the age distinctions aren't entirely convincing - but there's considerable skills on display - particularly from Abbie Jones as the younger Elizabeth Law, who is by turns witty, romantic, intelligent and heartbreaking as required. The lighting design by Owen Horton also gets major plaudits for shifting moods, times and places effortlessly. And the direction by Ellie Greenwood, assisted by Gowrie Varma, ties it all together so that this feels like one story being told, rather than several loosely arranged ones.
It's also worth noting that this was a remarkably well attended production - the night I saw it got a good solid crowd who were held rapt through 120 minutes with no intermission. NUTS is obviously doing something right, and the word is spreading.
And "When The Rain Stops Falling" should be a case in point - it's a challenging work, an epic covering almost 80 years and two different countries, beginning with a long monologue and continuing with a long scene entirely without words. It contains two love stories, three fathers with distant or non-existant relationships with their sons, several tragedies and mysteries, and at least one bone-fide miracle. The original production that played Canberra in 2010, was gorgeously cast, designed, directed and scored and is one of my top ten theatre memories. So ... how do NUTS do?
Surprisingly ... very very well. The design is simple without being sterile - a minimalist joy. Not all the performances work entirely (one or two moments get a tad histrionic or else don't quite hit the emotional notes they're aiming for) - and the usual problem of casting early-twenty-somethings as people in their forties and fifties are visible, as the age distinctions aren't entirely convincing - but there's considerable skills on display - particularly from Abbie Jones as the younger Elizabeth Law, who is by turns witty, romantic, intelligent and heartbreaking as required. The lighting design by Owen Horton also gets major plaudits for shifting moods, times and places effortlessly. And the direction by Ellie Greenwood, assisted by Gowrie Varma, ties it all together so that this feels like one story being told, rather than several loosely arranged ones.
It's also worth noting that this was a remarkably well attended production - the night I saw it got a good solid crowd who were held rapt through 120 minutes with no intermission. NUTS is obviously doing something right, and the word is spreading.
AMAX, Smiths Alternative
A quick music review, though one with a theatrical bent (given Amy Dunham and Max Gambale are both theatre regulars)... AMAX have been performing gigs on and off for two or three years that I've noticed thus far, but this is the first one I've actually made it to. And they're pretty darn polished, I gotta say. Performing a bunch of original songs, with one cover in the bracket I heard, AMAX provided with gorgeous harmonies, some great guitar work from Gambale, Dunham simultaneously tough-and-tender, Gambale wearing his heart on his sleeve (in addition to his Hawaiian Shirt and Bright Red Clogs), and encouraging some toddler dancing up the front with songs like the high-energy "Suitcase Stowaway". Very impressive - they're apparently working on recording their first CD, which you should all purchase or itunes download or illegally download it and drop large sums of money into Amy and Max's hands as penance.
As for the venue - I'm quite impressed with the stage at Smiths, it's quite hipster-chic charming. Yes, the venue is a Jorian Garnder Joint, which ... well, I'll be honest and say I'd tend to like his producing a lot more if he just let the work talk for itself, rather than appearing on stage himself to introduce at any point, but ... damn it, the guy has good taste in material to put on stage and a good history of putting stuff on stage, and should be commended for creating another good joint for local creatives to let their creative selves hang out.
As for the venue - I'm quite impressed with the stage at Smiths, it's quite hipster-chic charming. Yes, the venue is a Jorian Garnder Joint, which ... well, I'll be honest and say I'd tend to like his producing a lot more if he just let the work talk for itself, rather than appearing on stage himself to introduce at any point, but ... damn it, the guy has good taste in material to put on stage and a good history of putting stuff on stage, and should be commended for creating another good joint for local creatives to let their creative selves hang out.
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Under Milk Wood, Canberra Rep
I hate reviews that blame the play for the fact that the evening didn't work. I understand the impulse, the cast and crew are locals and you're probably going to socialise with them at some point, while the writer is probably dead, overseas or at the very least interstate, so may as well pick on the guy who isn't nearby.
Which is annoying, because I'm about to blame the 60-years-dead Dylan Thomas for me not enjoying this production. Now, this is a production that had a heap of great reviews all over the place with critical hoo-has, and Dylan Thomas has a fairly solid position in the cultural firmament, as does Milk Wood. The problem is, I can't quite tell why.
I think it's to do with the lack of plot. I like things with plots. It can even have many plots (I really like Robert Altman's films like "Short Cuts" and "Nashville" where huge bunches of plots bunch up against one another), but there must be action where people do something and are changed by it. Milk Wood doesn't do that - instead we get glimpses and portraits, but no actual change taking place. And Dylan Thomas is a hell of a wordsmith, but ... fine words only get you so far. It can't cover for a lack of action.
Anyway, that's me, and that's my blockage on this.
Which is a pity, becuase I do greatly esteem the cast and crew of this production, and in many ways they're doing superlative work here. Duncan Driver's melifulous tones make even the most rambling Thomas sentance sound intriguing, and the rest of the cast is equally skilled, switching between mutiple roles skillfully, inhabiting various characters heart and soul (yes, Virginina, apparently Peter Holland can do accents other than plummy-English!). Anne Kay's set design is gorgeous, Chris Ellyard's lighting is spectacular (the things that man can do with a small array of bulbs and a bit of smoke astound). There's also very skilful crew work under the guiding eyes of Stage Manager Carmen King and Assistant Stage Manager Darren Cullerne as the various set elements shift around almost silently and invisibly.
And I've written before of how much I love Duncan Ley's work as a director - and this is a visually fascinating production, that gives all these elements their space to play.
But the fact remains - I kinda left the whole experience wondering "what's the point of all this?" If it 's a reasonable portrayal of small-time-life in a Welsh Fishing Village, all I can say is I'm glad I don't live in a Welsh Fishing Village
(incidentally, if you loved this and you want to tell me why I'm wrong, I do have a comments field)
Which is annoying, because I'm about to blame the 60-years-dead Dylan Thomas for me not enjoying this production. Now, this is a production that had a heap of great reviews all over the place with critical hoo-has, and Dylan Thomas has a fairly solid position in the cultural firmament, as does Milk Wood. The problem is, I can't quite tell why.
I think it's to do with the lack of plot. I like things with plots. It can even have many plots (I really like Robert Altman's films like "Short Cuts" and "Nashville" where huge bunches of plots bunch up against one another), but there must be action where people do something and are changed by it. Milk Wood doesn't do that - instead we get glimpses and portraits, but no actual change taking place. And Dylan Thomas is a hell of a wordsmith, but ... fine words only get you so far. It can't cover for a lack of action.
Anyway, that's me, and that's my blockage on this.
Which is a pity, becuase I do greatly esteem the cast and crew of this production, and in many ways they're doing superlative work here. Duncan Driver's melifulous tones make even the most rambling Thomas sentance sound intriguing, and the rest of the cast is equally skilled, switching between mutiple roles skillfully, inhabiting various characters heart and soul (yes, Virginina, apparently Peter Holland can do accents other than plummy-English!). Anne Kay's set design is gorgeous, Chris Ellyard's lighting is spectacular (the things that man can do with a small array of bulbs and a bit of smoke astound). There's also very skilful crew work under the guiding eyes of Stage Manager Carmen King and Assistant Stage Manager Darren Cullerne as the various set elements shift around almost silently and invisibly.
And I've written before of how much I love Duncan Ley's work as a director - and this is a visually fascinating production, that gives all these elements their space to play.
But the fact remains - I kinda left the whole experience wondering "what's the point of all this?" If it 's a reasonable portrayal of small-time-life in a Welsh Fishing Village, all I can say is I'm glad I don't live in a Welsh Fishing Village
(incidentally, if you loved this and you want to tell me why I'm wrong, I do have a comments field)
Friday, 12 April 2013
Eurobeat, Supa Productions
Let's get the serious bitching out of the way first ... the program states that "Eurobeat" originated at the Edinburgh Festival in 1993 - however, my online research suggests it was 2003, which makes far more sense as the Bosnian war for Independence ended in 1995, and the Coors first album also came out in 1995 (both referenced in the script in ways that seem likely to have been permanently there). So, Supa President, I expect a full apology and a complementary Tim Tam, okay?
ANYWAY.
Eurovision is a love-it-or-hate-it-or-possibly-love-to-make-fun-of-it annual event that many Australians take dear to their heart. The pure daggyness of it all does seem to resonate in our hearts, with some bubbly dance pop, over-intense performances, very dubious Television Presenting skills and blatant padding during the voting all combining to deliver an annual dose of fun. Eurobeat is a 50% parody 50% tribute to Eurovision, with 15 acts performing representing various countries, and the audience getting to pick the winner - with the byplay of hosts Sergei (who reacts to the entire affair by getting increasingly drunk throughout the evening) and Boyka (who smiles a lot and attempts to keep things on track). A fairly busy cast of 19 bounce between various outfits performing double-triple-quadruple duties as representatives of multiple countries, and the show ends with the audience favourite number getting a reprise.
Inevitably, some of the songs are stronger than others - the spoofs are at least nicely varied between parodying the nationality, parodying the genre, parodying a particular performer from that country and just making a lot of sex jokes. Jordan Kelly's choreography particularly shines here - it's nice to see dance that is truly funny and creative - cheesy as hell in many places, but entertainingly so (even managing to choreograph a giant strawberry at one point). And even the more blah numbers only last around 3 minutes, there's always a new song around the corner.
Of the performances, local light-entertainment phenomenon (and previous WILI winner) Lachlan Ruffy shines as the sleazy, dopey and somewhat argumentative Sergei, garnering a ridiculous number of laughs. Sarah Golding's Boyka is similarly hilarious (and similarly dopey), while delivering the bulk of the malopropisms and a truly gorgeous "I'm Sarajevo, Taste Me" - both give the show whatever throughline it has and keep the evening tight, together and on track.
I also have to give a hoy to the other WILI winner in the cast, Max Gambale - who shines in his three numbers, as the remarkably-physically-inept German entry, as an increasingly-bothered-by-the-rest-of-his-group Estonian, and as one of Norway's impressive bunch of Vikings. Also deserving an individual mention is Eliza Shepherd, who's hilarious both as the completely out-of-her-tree Iceland entry and the not-at-all-sublty-lyric-ed Ukranian. Cameron Gill's Irish entry is a masterpiece of overly-dramatic looks, posing, intensity and surviving-the-fog-machine (although his invitation to sing along does lead me to remember that my Irish accent always comes out sounding Pirate). And Tim Stiles is a charming delight in four different nationalities (most of which do have the same accent, but ... meh).
I also need to give a shoutout to the fine Lichtenstein dancers for one truly impressive display of gobsmacking movement, and to the female crew member, either Temyka or Rachel, who gives Sergei one wonderfully dirty look.
It's nice to see another first time director in Canberra (I've noticed the musical companies seem a bit more willing to shake things up than the play companies locally - I'm not sure why, but it's good). Emma Tattum shows a tight hand on a show that could easily get overly-self-indulgent or turn into a concert, and that's appreciated (though I think the reading of the votes is a bit of a dead spot, I'm not entrirely sure there's anything you can do with that beyond cutting it - I must admit I'm a "turn it off at half time and look up the results online" person for Eurovision). I'm not entirely sure how the musical side of things are handled - whether everybody's performing to a backing tape or whether Emma White is going wild on a keyboard backstage, but either way, the backing sorta falls into the category of "adequate to the task" rather than "greatest use of music ever".
Anyway, the key word to this show is "Fun". It's a show where the audience gets to have a great time without having to consider anything much deeper than "do I want to taste Sarajevo or bang Ukraine"?
ANYWAY.
Eurovision is a love-it-or-hate-it-or-possibly-love-to-make-fun-of-it annual event that many Australians take dear to their heart. The pure daggyness of it all does seem to resonate in our hearts, with some bubbly dance pop, over-intense performances, very dubious Television Presenting skills and blatant padding during the voting all combining to deliver an annual dose of fun. Eurobeat is a 50% parody 50% tribute to Eurovision, with 15 acts performing representing various countries, and the audience getting to pick the winner - with the byplay of hosts Sergei (who reacts to the entire affair by getting increasingly drunk throughout the evening) and Boyka (who smiles a lot and attempts to keep things on track). A fairly busy cast of 19 bounce between various outfits performing double-triple-quadruple duties as representatives of multiple countries, and the show ends with the audience favourite number getting a reprise.
Inevitably, some of the songs are stronger than others - the spoofs are at least nicely varied between parodying the nationality, parodying the genre, parodying a particular performer from that country and just making a lot of sex jokes. Jordan Kelly's choreography particularly shines here - it's nice to see dance that is truly funny and creative - cheesy as hell in many places, but entertainingly so (even managing to choreograph a giant strawberry at one point). And even the more blah numbers only last around 3 minutes, there's always a new song around the corner.
Of the performances, local light-entertainment phenomenon (and previous WILI winner) Lachlan Ruffy shines as the sleazy, dopey and somewhat argumentative Sergei, garnering a ridiculous number of laughs. Sarah Golding's Boyka is similarly hilarious (and similarly dopey), while delivering the bulk of the malopropisms and a truly gorgeous "I'm Sarajevo, Taste Me" - both give the show whatever throughline it has and keep the evening tight, together and on track.
I also have to give a hoy to the other WILI winner in the cast, Max Gambale - who shines in his three numbers, as the remarkably-physically-inept German entry, as an increasingly-bothered-by-the-rest-of-his-group Estonian, and as one of Norway's impressive bunch of Vikings. Also deserving an individual mention is Eliza Shepherd, who's hilarious both as the completely out-of-her-tree Iceland entry and the not-at-all-sublty-lyric-ed Ukranian. Cameron Gill's Irish entry is a masterpiece of overly-dramatic looks, posing, intensity and surviving-the-fog-machine (although his invitation to sing along does lead me to remember that my Irish accent always comes out sounding Pirate). And Tim Stiles is a charming delight in four different nationalities (most of which do have the same accent, but ... meh).
I also need to give a shoutout to the fine Lichtenstein dancers for one truly impressive display of gobsmacking movement, and to the female crew member, either Temyka or Rachel, who gives Sergei one wonderfully dirty look.
It's nice to see another first time director in Canberra (I've noticed the musical companies seem a bit more willing to shake things up than the play companies locally - I'm not sure why, but it's good). Emma Tattum shows a tight hand on a show that could easily get overly-self-indulgent or turn into a concert, and that's appreciated (though I think the reading of the votes is a bit of a dead spot, I'm not entrirely sure there's anything you can do with that beyond cutting it - I must admit I'm a "turn it off at half time and look up the results online" person for Eurovision). I'm not entirely sure how the musical side of things are handled - whether everybody's performing to a backing tape or whether Emma White is going wild on a keyboard backstage, but either way, the backing sorta falls into the category of "adequate to the task" rather than "greatest use of music ever".
Anyway, the key word to this show is "Fun". It's a show where the audience gets to have a great time without having to consider anything much deeper than "do I want to taste Sarajevo or bang Ukraine"?
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