HMS Pinafore, Hayes Theatre Co, The Q

"HMS Pinafore" has been delighting audiences pretty much from the point where it opened in 1878 - the first big Gilbert and Sullivan hit, it's locked in its immortal status by, like most great pop culture, getting referenced in "The Simpsons" ("Cape Feare", where Sideshow Bob performs a one man production for the family). And it retains a lot of its delights, some 140 years later, from Sullivan's gorgeous score and Gilbert's jokes that still retain relevance and hilarity ("When I Was a Lad" will forever be hilarious as long as men with no qualifications better than an ability to say "yes" the right number of times get to head national institutions). The simple story of a humble sailor in love with a captain's daughter plays with ideas of class, responsibility and romance in delightful ways, with an ending as brisk and hilarious as possible (just don't look at the logical implications too hard).

Kate Gaul's production brings out all these delights and a few bonus ones. After a couple of years of enjoying the Hayes productions in their own venue but not necesarily on tour (sound issues with "Little Shop of Horrors", intimacy issues with "Sweet Charity"), it's a delight to see they've worked out how to tour these - a simple stage-within-a-stage is the toybox a tight ensemble of 12 get to play in (many of them both as performers and as musicians - there's no pit, just a case of performers picking up a violin or a trombone or guitar to accompany the action, alongside Musical Director Zara Stanton, who also accompanies on  piano (or clarinet, or accordian, or whatever else she has nearby).  There's a slight panto-quality to it (with Thomas Campbell playing Little Buttercup as panto dame, and Bernie Palin as Ralph Rackstraw as principal boy) that helps, adding a bit of eyebrow glitter to glam up the occasion, and using the excuse of Sir Joseph Porter's arrival for everybody to get into party gear that they keep for much of the rest of the evening, it lets cast members bounce muck around with genders quite happily.  It's careful to keep the one serious bit (the emotional too-and-throwing between Palin's Rackstraw and Hanna Greenshield's Josephine as she first rejects him for his class-inferiority, then rejoins him) to true emotional effect - for the first time in a while, I actually did get caught up in the usually tedious stuff between tenor-and-soprano (oh, just ask me how I feel about Marius and Cosette, I'm sure I'll ramble on for a coupla hours).

This is fluff, but it's quality fluff expressing joy, wit and charm, and is absolutely worth catching.

The Grapes of Wrath, Canberra Rep, Theatre 3

Steinbeck's classic novel isn't entirely a natural for theatre adaptation (in the way that, say, "Of Mice and Men" absolutely is) - it moves over one and a half thousand miles from Oklahoma to California, it splits focus between a number of different members of the Joad family, and much of it takes place on a small overladen truck. And Frank Galati's adaptation doesn't entirely solve this - there's still a lot of Joads to keep track of, not all of whom really get fully fleshed out. There are also a couple of places where it feels repetitious - the Joads are warned twice what will await them on the California fruit farms, then it's enacted on them - and having ensemble members play similar roles in each of these sequences only emphaises it here - it doesn't come across so much as foreshadowing as "haven't we seen this scene before?"

There's moments of glory in this production, but there's also moments of messyness. Much of the ensemble work is unfocussed - action happening everywhere that means whatever the main story is gets lost  - and there's a lot of physical props that means that, when actions require miming (in the burial and flood sequences, for example), we're stuck in a no-man's land between literalism and symbolism. The Joad's truck takes up so much stage space that there's no sense these people are crammed in together - everybody has plenty of space to spread out in comfort.

At the same time, there are moments that do play like gangbusters, particularly the famous "I'l be there" sequence between Tom and Ma Joad late in the play. Plus you get Amy Dunham singing "Down in the River to Pray" in that heartbreaking voice of hers. And those are both worth seeing. I just wish the rest wasn't so damn scrappy.

The "Well I Liked it" awards 2019

It's that time again to do the "Well I liked it" awards, or WILIs for short. It's the 8th WILIs and, yes, that innuendo has managed to stretch that far and will keep on giving what it's got.

It's been an interesting year in theatre blogging, my full year of blogging with my name on it (which has meant ... a grand total of one freebie ticket that may possibly be related to the blog! Clearly I'm raking in those big blogging bucks). It's also meant I've been a tad slower in the blogging than I used to be, and a tad more careful. There's two shows I saw that I didn't review at the time because they were both in previews, though both were in pretty solid condition and among my favourites of the year otherwise ("Caroline or Change" at the Hayes, which combined some great performances with a stunning physical production for a show that I'd never have expected to see in Australia, and "Fangirls", which had a freshness and wit about it, albiet perhaps about half an hour too long and with a couple of early-preview sound problems which meant multiple witty lyrics went a little unheard).

But of the biggies:

Locally, "Assassins" was probably my favourite show of the year that I hadn't seen a previous production of, with the return of "Playhouse Creatures" my favourite show I had. I have an obvious bias towards the one I production managed, "A Doll's House", and particularly the lead performer Susannah Frith whose performance grew during the show from the apparently frivolous girl to the clearly capable and strong woman willing to seize her destiny.

Of the touring shows, "Prima Facie" was my favourite thing I saw - an astonishing combo of writing, performance and direction as one woman broke down the brutal effects of the legal process on victims of sexual assault in a gripping presentation. It looked so simple yet was spectacular in its effects.

Interstate "The Wolves" captured my imagination early and never really let go - I strongly believe it's a major work that, with any luck, we'll be seeing all over the place, and Belvoir's production, picked up from an independent season elsewhere, gave it a cracking good production. And "Come From Away" was every inch as good as everybody said it was, a stunningly good mix of show, cast and production.

Hoping to get out and see more this year, and for there to be much skillful work from our local teams as well as the wider interstate productions. There's strong seasons coming from both the CAnberra Theatre and the Q, and good potential elsewhere - here's hoping there'll be great works to see.

First Love is the Revolution, Griffin Theatre Company

This is an odd combination of fantasy, romance, comedy and brutal drama, set among a colony of urban foxes and the household of a boy who befriends one of them. Looking at nature, humanity and with a fair chunk of surrealism, this plays like gangbusters in the tiny Stables space (converting it into a small suburban hill completely covered in fake grass, with a few surprise spots for cast to jump out of). Leading the cast are Sarah Meachum (back after "The Wolves" in another role that's a physical workout as well as an emotional one) as the youngest of the foxes, and Bardiya McKinnon as the boy - both a very appealing pair as they bond further despite the obvious divisions in their natures. This is the second time I've seen a play at Griffin that's been pre-tested in the UK before getting an Australian audience (despite being by an Australian playwright) and there's a robustness in Rita Kalenejais' script that plays confidently with the mixture of anamalistic fantasy and brutal realities delightfully. The supporting cast of four ramble between ten roles between them, including various other species of animal (Rebecca Massey scores as both the fox's mother and as a distinctly kiwi chicken, while Matthew Whittet has a trio of chicken, mole and the boys's dad, Guy Simon as another fox and a guard-dog, and Amy Hack bouncing between fox, cat and human). Lee Lewis shows a sure sense of pace and style giving this fantasy an appealing sense of reality and place. A delightful end to the year.

Packer and Sons, Belvoir

For whatever reason (defamation law, unco-operative living subjects, lack of dramatist interest) it's rare for the activities of the super-rich to get documented on Australian stages (the only similar project I can think of off the top of my head is David Williamson's "Rupert" from 2013). And this narrative, which tells of three generations of Packer men, over the course of about 50 years, is certainly an intriguing one. It's perhaps better in the first half (concentrating on the rising of Kerry as contrasted with his brother Clyde and under the thumb of the domineering Frank) than in the second (which is very dominated by James' failures in administration of OneTel and Kerry's brutal dismissals of him), but there's a lot of very strong writing from Tommy Murphy, who enjoys a stronger subject than his recent history-based narrative, "Mark Colvin's Kidney" (which felt more anecdotal, while this feels more "epoch defining drama"). If it falls slightly into the trap of humanising the characters and not entirely emphasising the damage they do to the world around them, it's still a strong piece of drama.

Central are two extremely strong leads - John Howard playing both Frank and the elder Kerry, and Josh McConville as the younger Kerry and James. Howard perhaps has the more challenging role as both Frank and the elder Kerry have definate similarities, brutal men who bully their children, but he manages to build very different personas to the two tyrants. McConville has both the strong transitions as Kerry grows from the feckless carouser black sheep of the family to his father's chief headkicker and designated successor, and as the cheerily naiive James gets more and more crushed as it becomes apparent how out of his depth he is - again, managed with aplomb (and a couple of helpful hairpieces). The remaining cast are mostly in support - Brandon McClelland has the most to do as the undone-by-his-ethics Clyde, while Nick Bartlett, John Gaden and Anthony Harkin offer strong support in various roles.

Eamon Flack directs with a sure sense and two strong coups-de-theatre - the opening image (where i'm still not sure how the polo horse got on-and-off stage, and suspect there's some trickery involving the prop), and a sudden transition between younger-and-older Kerry. I don't know he entirely avoids the longeurs in the second act as the material dwells a little long on OneTel's disastrous corporate shenanigans, but that's partially script issues.

IN short, this is gripping, engaging theatre about contemporary Australia, well worth catching.

Waiting in the Wings, Canberra Rep, Theatre 3

Noel Coward's image as a writer of witty cosmopolitan comedies is mostly backed up by the four plays that most frequently get revivals ("Hay Fever", "Private Lives", "Blithe Spirit" and "Present Laughter"), but the truth is, he had a career wider than that. Some of his greatest successes leaned more towards very British "stiff-upper-lip" dramas (the epic "Cavalcade", the family drama "This Happy Breed" and particularly "Brief Encounter"). And "Waiting in the Wings" reflects the other Noel Coward more than the cuttingly humourous one audiences may come in expecting.

It was his second-to-last major play, after a series of not-quite-successes that had drifted increasingly conservative. But the combination of memorialising actresses of his youth, and reflections on his own mortality gave "Waiting in the Wings" a poignant aspect that allows a certain soulfulness not often seen in his work. The plotting is a little all over the place (in a three act play, most of the significant plot points are wrapped up by act two, with act three left to tidy up minor business and let the cast have a few sing-a-longs), and a couple of the characters end up being single-jokes-repeated rather than really getting a full characterisation, but there is a reasonable sense of aging with dignity and acceptance of the world which gives this a nicely sentimental appeal.

Stephen Pike's production takes advantage of the chance to let nine older actresses have substantial roles, many who have been off Canberra stages for a while. Ros Engledow is as close as the ensemble gets to a lead as the newly-arrived Lotta, perfectly poised and gorgeously dressed, the epitome of Coward's "keeping a brave face" approach to life's disappointments. Liz Bradley opposite her as her long-time rival, May, has a great line in irritation, and plays it strongly. Of the rest, Joan White tends to steal scenes wholesale as the increasingly demented Sarita, while Liz St Clair Long takes advantage of both an Irish accent and a walking stick as the over-dramatic Dierdre. There's nice support from some of the younger cast members, particularly Peter Holland as the "written for Noel Coward's boyfriend" liaison with the home's committee, getting to flash a dancing leg and a not-bad-singing-voice, Nikki-Lynne Hunter as the army-commandant-style-matron Ms Archibald, and Antonia Kitzl as the interloping journalist Zelda.

If it doesn't quite conquer Coward's lacksidaisical script, Stephen Pike's production brings out most of what's valuable about it, with the mix of sentimentality and laughter, in a very cosy, comfortable production. Andrew Kay's set gives everything a nice style (particularly a staircase and a landing for most of the actresses to play grand-scenes at one another), and Anna Senior's costumes have a nice style to them.

I can't claim this is my favourite play of the season, but as a nice comfortable pair of slippers of a play, this certainly suits.

Come from Away, New Theatricals, Junkyard Dog Productions, Rodney Rigby et al, Comedy Theatre, Melbourne

In the world of hypertouring internationally successful broadway musicals, it's rare for something that feels personal, individual and yet at the same time humans-scale and heartfelt to get attention. But thank goodness for something like this - in many ways "Come From Away" feels like the biggest-scale-ever-community theatre project, with a cast of twelve playing a vast array of characters caught up in the town of Gander, Newfoundland as, on September 11th 2001, it suddenly becomes the destination for 6,579 passengers unable to land in the United States after the plane hijackings and subsequent destruction. There's a strong history of verbatim theatre operating this way, with a small cast jumping in and out of character, switching between dialogue and direct narrative as they summarise a large incident with personal stories, and when it's done well (and it's done excellently here) it reaches out and grabs you immediately. The script and music by Irene Sankoff and David Hein skillfully scratches in dozens of different stories, tying them together and allowing them not to be a homogeneous mass of simple uplift (two of the stories, perhaps, stick with me best because they leave loose ends, of the unresolved tensions of those days and of how, while a community can come together to create something warm, it's never quite perfect and always that little bit of human flaws that remain).

Christopher Ashley's direction (alongside musical stager Kelly Devine) makes this staging something constantly flowing - on a simple staging with chairs and tables, he ensures we're constantly focussed on the characters, on the stories, on the connections and on the world of these people. We're drawn in from the first five minutes and we're not let go again for another 95. It's an extrordinary achivement by cast, crew and production team, and I'm deeply grateful the Australian production had enough extensions for me to finally get to see it in Melbourne, and hope as many as possible get a chance to catch it before it goes.