Monday, 29 March 2010
With controversy swirling due to the sudden walk out and subsequent firing of star Angela Punch McGregor literally days before the Perth debut of this original play, expectations were mixed for the Monday night preview of playwright Hannie Rayson’s (Hotel Sorrento) newly commissioned work.
Director Kate Cherry bypassed the implicit questions when she spoke directly to the audience prior to the start, mainly to update us that local actor Sarah McNeill would be stepping into the role of Kate, and even more astoundingly, that McNeill was doing so with only two days notice in the part, the first preview on Saturday, 27th having been cancelled to accommodate this unanticipated development.
Whatever the turn of events, the show itself was a slice of life delight, opening with electric blue flooding the stage, as Matt Scott’s lighting design besotted the audience with the suggestion of dappled waves on an idyllic Greek ocean.
Radiant island skies and reverent starlit nights throughout gave us the passing of time, the revealing of secrets and the slightly desperate but ultimately accepting contemplation of mid life that the baby boomer generation seem almost unexpectedly to have found themselves in.
The set was sand and water and reflection, designer Christina Smith bringing the outside inside; with a bank of shallow water in the back, a sandy level beach in the centre, and a just-about-perfect-for-dipping stage length pool in the fore, naturalized elements in harmony and then mirrored in the large dark man made glass winged to the left.
But for all this beauty, it is the characters that need to resonant. An almost John Hughesian mix, with flashbacks to their carefree youth; the Swimming Club are attractive, entitled and unstoppable, a generation who have pretty much shaped the world into what we now take for granted, as evidenced by Sappho, Megan Holloway’s iGeneration emo. However, it appears angst doesn’t seem to be limited to youth (a surprising realisation, ironically noted) and yes, Rayson’s script gives us a funny and shrewd view of who these young people are, later in life.
Tina Bursill as Canadian photog Laura, was almost an Australia’s Own version of SATC’s Kim Catrall, with her dry sitcom pat delivery accompanied by a knowing look and come-hither curl in that Mona Lisa smile.
John Waters’ Dave was well rounded and likable, a witty ex hippie and muso, now working for The Man in PR.
Caroline Gillmer, a Hannie Rayson favourite, was by far the most comfortable and naturalistic with the dialogue; she could be argued to be the heart of the piece, and her survival from breast cancer is what provides the impetus for the Swimming Club to get back together, cutting through everyone’s busy lives to bring them back to Lesvos, Greece via guilt or concern (and more than a touch of subterfuge).
With controversy swirling due to the sudden walk out and subsequent firing of star Angela Punch McGregor literally days before the Perth debut of this original play, expectations were mixed for the Monday night preview of playwright Hannie Rayson’s (Hotel Sorrento) newly commissioned work.
Director Kate Cherry bypassed the implicit questions when she spoke directly to the audience prior to the start, mainly to update us that local actor Sarah McNeill would be stepping into the role of Kate, and even more astoundingly, that McNeill was doing so with only two days notice in the part, the first preview on Saturday, 27th having been cancelled to accommodate this unanticipated development.
Whatever the turn of events, the show itself was a slice of life delight, opening with electric blue flooding the stage, as Matt Scott’s lighting design besotted the audience with the suggestion of dappled waves on an idyllic Greek ocean.
Radiant island skies and reverent starlit nights throughout gave us the passing of time, the revealing of secrets and the slightly desperate but ultimately accepting contemplation of mid life that the baby boomer generation seem almost unexpectedly to have found themselves in.
The set was sand and water and reflection, designer Christina Smith bringing the outside inside; with a bank of shallow water in the back, a sandy level beach in the centre, and a just-about-perfect-for-dipping stage length pool in the fore, naturalized elements in harmony and then mirrored in the large dark man made glass winged to the left.
But for all this beauty, it is the characters that need to resonant. An almost John Hughesian mix, with flashbacks to their carefree youth; the Swimming Club are attractive, entitled and unstoppable, a generation who have pretty much shaped the world into what we now take for granted, as evidenced by Sappho, Megan Holloway’s iGeneration emo. However, it appears angst doesn’t seem to be limited to youth (a surprising realisation, ironically noted) and yes, Rayson’s script gives us a funny and shrewd view of who these young people are, later in life.
Tina Bursill as Canadian photog Laura, was almost an Australia’s Own version of SATC’s Kim Catrall, with her dry sitcom pat delivery accompanied by a knowing look and come-hither curl in that Mona Lisa smile.
John Waters’ Dave was well rounded and likable, a witty ex hippie and muso, now working for The Man in PR.
Caroline Gillmer, a Hannie Rayson favourite, was by far the most comfortable and naturalistic with the dialogue; she could be argued to be the heart of the piece, and her survival from breast cancer is what provides the impetus for the Swimming Club to get back together, cutting through everyone’s busy lives to bring them back to Lesvos, Greece via guilt or concern (and more than a touch of subterfuge).
Sarah McNeill as Kate did an astounding job, off book and with blocking sorted, she gave her entitled archaeology professor an air of breathless energy; the girl inside the woman who still didn’t know exactly who she was, or what she wanted - and perplexed to discover that her real life seems to be so remarkably ordinary. She’s seeking the passion of mythology, of Helen of Troy, and is secretly delighted to be the object of desire for two men.
Funny and bombastic in a variety of accents and guises, Igor Sas was cartoonish to be sure, but with an assured flair. The final revelation of his ruthlessness comes almost as a shock, as you haven’t been taking him at all seriously and the sudden about face pretty much ends the party.
Apart from that almost aburpt ending, this collaboration with the Melbourne Theatre Company was an excllent evening out and has potentially given us a laudable and light new classic to add to the script of Australian theatre.
Posts
