The Normal Heart, Everyman Theatre, Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre

I asked the question a while ago "are Everyman the best theatre company in Canberra"? And the answer is still, yes, of course they are. They add here to 8 years of theatrical excellence with a production that arouses the heart, mind and outrage in about equal measure. 

"Normal Heart" is the not-very-disguised autobiographical story of Larry Kramer, prominent gay activist, screenwriter and novelist (he wrote the successful 70's film of "Women in Love", the unsuccessful 70's film of "Lost Horizon" and the controversial late 70's novel "Faggots", an exposing story of the risks and emotional minefield of sexual liberation) - and deals with his engagement with the early days of AIDS activism in New York from 1981-1984. The play was first produced in 1985 and burns with passion and outrage as Kramer attempts to process, explain and advocate for what had had just happened and what was still happening to people around him. Kramer is unflinching, not least about himself and his tendency to alienate and bully people around him, but also in the heartbreak and tenderness and sometimes inadvertent comedy that happened at that time. 

Jarrad West plays Ned, the Kramer-analogue, and plays the speechifying with a passion and outrage that, in the early stages, has a slightly comic tinge. There's a vast risk here that the character could be nothing but a self-important polemicist, and West avoids that by keeping Ned flawed, human, and often immediately-guilt-stricken after he's unleashed with both barrels into someone else. In the face of an inhuman disaster of a disease, he's fighting just as blind as everyone else, and you feel the pain and damage he has. As his love interest, Felix, Will Huang is a warm embracing and frequently comic presence in the early stages - so much so that as he succumbs to the disease, the heartbreak is all the greater as you see this vigorous engaging stylish man stripped of everything soft and gentle about him as his body continually betrays him. Christopher Zuber is the somewhat straight-arrow head of Gay Men's Health Crisis, a closeted banker whose engagement with the cause is strong but who constantly clashes with Ned, standing toe-to-toe with him as he tries to keep the organisation working with the mainstream rather than fighting it. 

Michael Sparks as one of the core activists plays meek and mild up until the point where he can't take any more and his heart breaks in a monologue of astounding pain and anguish and rage. Riley Bell is stunning as a guy who characterises himself immediately as a southern bitch and proves himself to be a whole lot more - practical, kind, gentle and so very compassionate, presented in a performance of maturity and grace. Jordan Best as a doctor caught up in this cause matches West in intense rage, but shows true bedside manner and care as a woman who has no answers but will not surrender the fight. Rob deFries as Ned's brother is the show's token heterosexual, who balances generosity with his brother with reservations about his hectoring manner and just plain not understanding. homosexuality. Tieg Saldhana scores in cameos both as the show's first AIDS victim and as a crisis-line volunteer, similarly Christopher Carroll presents the show's only true villain as a City Hall worker whose platitudes barely cover his frustratingly pitiful assistance. 

Karen Vickery directs a tight show, balancing light and shade within a rich ensemble, allowing everybody their moment while making sure the story is key. 

In short (and dear god is this not short), yes, you should see this. It's Everyman at their considerable best, doing engaged, relevant, stunningly-performed and richly provoking theatre. Miss it at your peril.

She Stoops to Conquer, Canberra Rep

Old-fashioned laughs a-plenty are on offer in Rep's latest offering, an almost-250-year old comedy that proves that sometimes, there's no joke like an old joke. A tale of romance and confusion, it's energetically played shenanigans that offers big giggles, a little wisdom, some nice frocks and a happy ending.

The title role of the she-who-is-stooping-to-conquer is Zoe Priest, showing a nice charming wit, charm and a whole lot of stage presence. He-who-is-conquered-via-stooping is George Pulley, who covers off the requirements of being handsome, amiably dim-witted, and enjoyable sympathetic. As the monstrous mother, Elaine Noon is grandly gorgon-esque, managing a performance that matches her quite astounding wig in size and grandness. Lord of misrule for the evening is Adam Salter, being appropriately impudent, silly and just-on-the-right-side-of-annoying. Jonathan Pearson gets a solid evening of exasperated confusion in as the regularly bewildered Mr Hardcastle, and Tieg Sadhana and Kate Harris are appropriately romantic and silly as the secondary-couple whose quest to escape with both jewelry and each other makes up the rest of the plot. There's a supporting cast of various supernumerary servants who frequently serve as almost an on-stage-audience to the action, albeit a slightly cruder and sillier audience than the fine folks who are watching the show,

Cate Clelland's set is-simple-but-stylish in its effect, painted as black and white line drawings, while Anna Senior's costumes are a nicely contrasting riot of colour and ostentation.

Simple in its pleasures, "She Stoops" is a fun frolic of a show and worthy of a watch.

The Drover's Wife, Belvoir

We haven't exactly been short of dramas about Australia's colonial past recently. But very few of them have been from an Aboriginal perspective - yes, they may have included Aboriginal characters as victims or marginal figures, but almost inevitably we've got white stories about the history that still shames us.

Not this time. Leah Purcell has hit the bullseye here, co-opting Henry Lawson's 19th century narrative of the woman left behind in the middle of nowhere trying to make the best of a hostile wilderness, and adding her own Aboriginality to the mix. Performing the demanding lead and scripting should theoretically be too much and feel too self-indulgent - but that's never the case - Purcell the writer serves Purcell the actress brilliantly, giving her a role that starts in reticent agressive reserve before continually revealing more and more sides to this apparently simple woman. Mark Coles-Smith matches her as the escaped aboriginal she initially holds at gunpoint and whose breaking down of the barriers between them is the meat of the play.

Leticia Caceres' staging keeps things tight and simple - a curtain, a fallen tree, and a tree stump, often with axe locked into it, are most of the set. But the menace stays real and strong and the playing is heartfelt and real, bringing us a play that has integrity and skill.

Good solid thumping relevant theatre.

Gloria, Griffin Theatre Company

Benedict Andrews has been away from Australian theatre for a while now - his last production here was "The Maids" in 2013, and he's since been working internationally, most noticeably the Gillian Anderson-starring production of "Streetcar Named Desire" (which screened here as part of the NT live series). He's a bit of a controversial figure - his reinventions of classic texts (along with Simon Stone's work in the early 2010s) tended to raise the hackles of a lot of conservative theatre critics who found him more destructive than constructive. Personally I liked three out of the four productions I saw of his - "Measure for Measure", "The Seagull" and "Streetcar". The only one that was a bit of a mess was his attempt at an original work, "Every Breath" - at the time, I remember thinking it suffered a lot from him directing his own writing - some interesting directing images were sabotaged by the writing's imprecision, and some good poetic writing was sabotaged by unclear or overly schematic directing.

"Gloria" is his second original play to reach Australian stages, and it continues his stylistic intention of writing plays that are strong on the poetics, not so much on the "easily comprehensible plot that moves forwards at a regular pace". And for those of you who remember my review of "Under Milk Wood", that does tend to be one of my less favourite types of theatre. Though, as in that case, this does lead to virtuoso staging, provided by Lee Lewis.

In terms of plot, "Gloria" is about an actress who's participating in a production dealing with a traumatic event, and as she enacts it, she finds her sense of identity falling apart. Marta Dusseldorp plays the main character, and manages the multiple emotional and personality shifts with aplomb. She's a magnetic central presence who you're engaged in even as whatever the action is that's going on around her can prove enigmatic or elusive. The cast surrounding her play multiple roles - friends, family, co-stars, attackers, neighbours, and equally manage the multiple personalities they're required to don.

Lee Lewis' staging is unusually spectacular for the tiny Stables stage - morphing, using all the projected multi-media technical bells and whistles while also keeping the focus on the actors whether they're in single monologue, complicated scenes that cross multiple conversations simultaneously or bitchy backstage banter. If Andrew's script is a tad bewhildering, Lewis' staging knows where it is and what it's doing at any particular moment, which gives us enough to carry on through the play.

So this is a good production of a play that I'm not entirely sure I love, but am intrigued enough to consider worth watching. Put it in the "it's interesting" category.

Macbeth, Canberra Repertory

Shakespeare's Scottish tragedy gets a fast-moving and stripped-for-action production here. Jordan Best has got to be using some form of witchery to handle so well a large cast and complex text in a production of such directness and clarity of purpose. Michael Spark's deceptively simple set allows fast movement, sudden appearances and presents a space for widely varying stage pictures. Heather Spong's costume designs give a basic approach that could be tightened a little (in particular, the men's basic blacks could be consistent rather than such a widely varied set) but otherwise has the right idea in terms of simplicity and labelling the cast easily in multiple roles.

First among a strong cast are the Macbeths - Chris Zuber plays the journey as a good soldier becomes a maddened tyrant with the promise and assumption of power, his difficult journey towards becoming a murderer eased with the persuasion of his eager wife, Jenna Roberts. The instant regret both feel after committing murder is palpable, as is the disintegration of their formerly close and seductive relationship as the rot sets in (the image of them going their separate ways is heartbreaking just before interval). The donning of kings's robes and a crown let Zuber unleash some rather magnificent hair and gives him the image of a bestial lion, but much that was human about him disappears under the weight of the acts he has committed to get power. Roberts' disintegration into madness is heartbreaking - her formerly-determined self now damaged beyond repair.

There's too many names to talk about all individually in a 23-strong ensemble, but there are images that stick in the memory like the disturbing hand movements of the witches, isolated against their black robes; the reactions of the attendees at the disintegrating bloody banquet; the touching short story as Lady Macduff tries to disown her husand only to see him still doom her; the ragefull Macduff ready for righteous avenging; the wild clowning of the Porter; the every-inch-a-king-ness of Duncan; the young Malcom resisting and eventually answering the call of his rightful kingship; Hecate's act-two-opening-rage at her coven... oh, pretty much the whole two and a half hours.

This is major theatre by a major director with a major cast. You should not miss this.

Sweeney Todd, ANU Interhall Productions and ANU School of Music, ANU Arts Centre

Student theatre has its limitations. Mostly that the casting pool tends to be, mysteriously enough, students, meaning that you end up with most of your cast somewhere in the age range 18-23 - which can get problematic when they're meant to be playing parents and children. Still, this is theatre we're talking about, not strict realism, so a certain amount of suspension of disbelief should be brought to the table anyway.

And Sondheim's musical thriller is a classic of the genre - an updated Victorian-era thriller that combines the pulpish thrills and scares with a tight revenge structure. It's pretty much unique as the only major slasher-musical I can think of (maybe Phantom, although he has a much smaller body count). And it uses the music for maximum tension, drawing at least as much from Bernard Herrmann as Rogers and Hammerstein. Gowrie Varma's production works very well at establishing a disconcerting atmosphere where dark deeds are certain to happen, and then allows the deeds to be exactly as dark as we'd feared they were going to be.

Key among the performers is Spencer Cliff in the title role. He has astounding vocals for such a young performer and has a great way of seeming midly off - closed and brooding. His movement is perhaps a little stiff and he doesn't always commit to the grand moments (his "My Right Arm is Complete Again" doesn't quite get to be as glorious a moment as it surely needs to be), but he has the basics of the role down quite well. George Juszcyzk as Mrs Lovett joins him in oddness, and has the vocal dexterity to handle the tricky "Worst Pies in London" (although her "By the Sea" suffers a little in comparison), but she's a powerful comic and coniving presence. Will Collett as Anthony has the handsome hero down pat - he's charming, handsome, and sings gogeously. Amy Jenkins' Joanna similarly sings with great beauty and sensitivity, and disappears down into the rabbit hole of insanity with aplomb as the second act complications start to set in. Colin Balog's Judge is clearly much more young and attractive than the role requires, but he has powerful vocals and he makes up for his physical attractiveness by being personally disconcertingly overbearing in pretty much every other way. Cameron Allan's Beadle Bamford does milk the obsequiousness a little bit (and in his "Parlour Songs" he milks the miming-the-harmonium thing even more) but he has a good high tenor. Anna Rafferty is a disturbing presence as the Beggar woman, shifting between pitifulness and terrifying with ease. Jeremy Hoskins has a great italianate pomposity but should possibly have not been costumed in high-heels-and-shorts - he has fantastic legs, but fantastic legs are not what the role really cares for and they probably shoulda been in long pants for this one. Sachini Poogoda is a delightfully naive Tobias and brings a sweet presence.

Varma's set design is impressively-grand-on-a-budget, and KAtarina Tang's orchestra plays strongly throughout. Technically, this is one of the best-sounding musicals I've heard in canberra lately - there's none of the standard "mics get turned on one line into the song" moments you get all too often. Lighting is a little patchier - there's a couple of moments where scenes are left waiting for the lights to go on.

All in all this is recommended viewing for anyone who's ever despaired of seeing a "Sweeney Todd" on Canberra stages - no, it's not 100% perfect but it's pretty darn solid.

Letters to Lindy, Merrigong Theatre Company, Playhouse, Canberra Theatre Centre

"There are three things that have divided Australia: Conscription, Whitlam, and Lindy Chamberlain". Conscription drives one of the New Wave of Australian Playwriting's first great plays, "The Legend of King O'Malley", and Whitlam drives a whole heap of the rest of that New Wave. But Lindy Chamberlain hasn't really had much of a theatre presence - there was an opera in 2002 but otherwise the space is clear for a good-quality piece of theatre for an enduringly controversial story.

Alana Valentine's telling uses, as the title suggests, the thousands of letters sent to Chamberlain since the controversial death of her daughter in 1980. It keeps the setting very clearly domestic (James Browne's set is a simple lounge-and-dining-room-setup, with adaptations largely through lighting and staging to take us to other locations) and has Lindy as our prime viewpiont, with most commentary coming from the letters. Jeanette Cronin holds the stage as Lindy with aplomb - with multiple costume and wig changes to cover the era (from the iconic big-bob to her modern smart-clipped hair). It is in some ways a very folksy evening, and offers a lot of light and shade in telling the story - Lindy is eminently pragmatic and common-sense about what happened to her and we're not subjected to two-odd hours of angst so much as a story with an undercurrent of pain that sneaks through. The focus so tight on Lindy does occasionally mean we get the sense other elements don't get much traction (her husband Michael, for instance, is virtually invisible in this version), but what it loses in breadth it gains in individual empathy.

The remaining ensemble play various letter writers and other figures, crossing age-ranges and genders with aplomb.  Glenn Hazeldine maybe does the greatest range (slipping touchingly into the role of Lindy's youngest son, Aiden) but Phillip Hinton and Jane Phegan match well in various roles.

This is engaging, intriguing theatre that captures the heart and the mind and is worthy of a watch.