Lord of the Flies

Saturday, 27 June 2009

Lord of the Flies is a Dangerous Book about Boys. Written by Briton William Golding in the shadow of the atomic bomb, the novel is rich with onomatopoeic imagery (the roar and then plop used to describe a tangled parachute is a wonder) and allusions to Milton’s Paradise Lost and Ballantyne’s Coral Island festoon the narrative with allegorical layers to be turned over and over.

Director Gregory Jones having staged directly from the text in previous productions, challenged himself with Nigel Williams’ adaptation, a translation that was first performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company at Stratford-upon-Avon in 1995.

The island is only imagined, as the audience is greeted by a blackboard ready set - tables and high stools in a typical classroom and boys in uniforms at attention. An overlay soundtrack of rhythm that sounds like a jump cut heartbeat is ominous, and it is not a plane crash that scars an island paradise and leaves these boys isolated, but a bomb in civilization itself separating children from adults.

The numerous lost boys of Littluns are reduced to one - Perceval (Thomas James), who despite his height did make you think he could actually be aged six as related in the original. Daniel Garrett as initially reluctant leader Ralph, impressively managed to stand on his head, which I thought was hilarious as his character is mentioned doing this very act numerous times in the first chapter – giving blood rushing physicality to the disorientation of a world turned upside down.

Nick Maclaine portrayed Jack as boldly belligerent, a school prefect confident in his right to rule and egged on from mere leader to despotic tyrant by the mysterious-boy-of-no-particular-school, Roger (Nicholas Hiatt) a character only referred to in the novel quite late in the piece, but who instills terror in all who see him painted savage.

Simon (Daniel Klemens), reflective and unpopular as prophets are apt to be, disappears in his epileptic fit and emerges with not just the truth about the Beast from the Air but the realization that society is fragmenting, so of course as harbinger he is killed in a disturbing sequence of sound and fury. Piggy (Izaak Lim) is left as a lone nagging voice of civilization, adamant on the importance of the conch, neurotic with his “ass-mar” and rightly fearful for his life.

Chalked chapters written across the back wall beneath a poster of the Queen marked the passage of time, but the compact pacing never lagged despite its Educational Edition repute, and this adventure into the heart of man’s darkness played out to an intense finale of almost unbearable apprehension…then suddenly, a grownup steps into the room.

Having read this recently, I have wondered about this ending - how do you process the experience of being hunted or a hunter? At 12, how does this ugly reality shape you and your future?

Are you forever tainted, or will you put the incidents down to childish games and a series of unfortunate accidents vaguely remembered in the far distant adult future?

I guess it makes you think - despite the promise of each new generation, could we have avoided the way the world is now? For it may not be just the wake of all that has come before, but as illuminated in this work, there is the uncomfortable knowledge within each of us of an innate turmoil between order and anarchy.

42nd Street

Saturday, 20 June 2009

Brash, tuneful and with the gosh-darn-it-let’s-put-on-a-show! attitude of a Mickey Rooney & Judy Garland baby Broadway musical; 42nd Street effervescently erupts right from it’s opening tap number.

It is truly a sight to behold 40+ dancers on stage tapping it out with style, finesse and frankly nostalgic charm – yup, they don’t do many shows like this anymore.

Modern audiences have little opportunity to experience the speed, rhythm and click-stamp-slide of tap; there have been a few novelty forays by Australia’s Own Dein Perry (Tapdogs, Bootmen) or maybe the syncopated drive of hiphop influenced Stomp the Yard; but all in all we’re mostly reduced to the occasional audition for TV dance mecca, So You Think You Can Dance.

This made 42nd Street an undeniable treat, and the closing night audience was there every uncynical step of the way, following the classic story of a talented understudy who gets her chance to be the next star on Broadway.

Kewpie doll faced naïf Peggy Sawyer (Meghan O’Shea) makes an impression on just about everyone she meets, (or blunders into!) and O’Shea was an appealing ingénue, with winsome contrariness and a big enough heart to hold the show within the show together. Tobias Madden as cocky tenor Billy Lawler was light on his toes and had a ready smile, but I felt like he spent most of the first act TALKING IN CAPITALS and punctuating the point.

Anthony Pepe as dance director Andy Lee was notable in his Gene Kelly inspired look and how-about-this-step? skills; and the comedy team of Maggie Jones (Kira Morsley) and Bert Barry (Drew Weston) twigged you to the fast paced 1930s banter of screwball comedic relief.

The person that most impressed though was Naomi Livingstone as Broadway diva Dorothy Brock, comfortable portraying her character’s ballooning ego and “I’m a star!” attitude, but able to elicit the audience’s sympathy over the love she left behind and a humble realization and confession that bright-eyed Peggy really is the best Pretty Lady for the role.

Jenny Lynnd dazzled the audience with her choreography, and with the amount of dance numbers on stage you can probably bet that the chorus members are most likely the fittest hoofers in town. I loved the slick and ultimately heartfelt musical ballet in the second act, reminiscent of the Broadway Melody interlude in the similar era set movie musical “Singing in the Rain”. Cyd Charisse’s green dress and looks were even homaged with a leggy brunette.

Set designer Nathan Weyers and his team gave us a tantalizing peak into the Great White Way with drop scapes proclaiming a constellation of New York’s myriad theatres, and the set change and side arch revolves as the Pretty Lady production travels to Philly was one of the best cast and crew transitions I’ve seen in an Australian show.

I has a fantastic time listening to this lullaby of Broadway.

Little Shop of Horrors

Thursday, 11 June 2009

Little Shop of Horrors is seriously, one of my favourite musicals. Written and scored by eventual powerhouse Disney hit makers Alan Menken and Howard Ashman (Little Mermaid, Aladdin and Best Picture Oscar nom Beauty and the Beast), Little Shop was originally adapted from a B-grade cult movie classic from the 1960s which had in a small masochistic role a lean actor with a feral smile named Jack Nicholson,…yes, that Jack.

The story of a boy, the girl of his dreams, and a carnivorous plant that wants to take over the world, inspired Menken and Ashman to produce some of the catchiest harmonies and endearing characters in modern musical theatre. With ironic lyrics and a twisted view of early 60s wish fulfilment consumer culture, these rose-coloured glasses nevertheless had sightlines to the real world harsh realities of downtown Skid Row; but the music is so amazing and clever, it never gets you down, though the content upon later reflection is rather disturbing…

This staging by Shine Studios was faithful to the Off Broadway production, and while I’ll admit a fondness for the original material, I had actually first fallen in love with a rerun of the 1986 movie musical directed by Frank Oz. The film had tweaked the theatrical ending, introduced a new song (that was subsequently nominated for an Oscar) and reinstated the masochistic character that had been in the sourced 1960 film but absent from the stage musical. Bill Murray took an enjoyably painful turn in the dentist chair that time around.

I haven’t seen that many productions at Murdoch University’s Nexus Theatre, but it afforded a decent sized space for the show, with the whole stage and some of the high tower catwalks being utilized by the cast.

The music buoyed the show along, but there were a few dead spots in between some scene changes or turns of dialogue where transitions could have been a little tighter.

I normally love seeing dancers in a show, but unfortunately in this instance I found the many choreographed numbers a little distracting to the central leads, especially during some of the more intimate or one on one songs – I could barely see Mushnik & Son for the crowd on stage!

Cameron Prestel was almost a little too clear skinned and confident to play orphaned loser Seymour Krelborn, but Shinead Gegas was great as bruised yet blossoming Audrey, her face revealing her sweet heart beneath the overdressed insecurity.

Can I say how much I loved Audrey II? The design and construction of these progressively larger and frighteningly impressive puppets was a wow factor every time you saw the next one – kudos to Kristy Messina, Grant James and Chris Messina.

I thought the program was also very well put together, themed as a FBI file complete with paper clips holding together notes, photos and character inspired business cards “Orin Scrivello DDS – there’s always time for oral hygiene”– it even had coffee mug stains and a final bloody page decrying “Don’t Feed the Plants!”. I wish more programs were this imaginative!

Go green for a melody rich fun night out.