Twelfth Night

Monday, 26 July 2010

Make of it what you will, but with one of the most famously rhapsodic lines from Shakespeare opening the play, “If music be the food of love, play on…” Black Swan Theatre’s latest comedic oeuvre from the bard continues the trend of updated delight from last year’s joyous Much Ado About Nothing, and washes us ashore upon the Mediterranean inspired resort location of Illyria.

The audience is delivered into a bright pastel zephyr-blue set split in the centre to not only give an alternate entry for the actors but to denote two houses, multiple locations, and of course a more obvious reminder of two halves torn asunder - twin castaways Viola and Sebastian, shipwrecked separately and mourning the death of the other.

Set designer Christine Smith has once again impressed with her intelligent use of space and suggestion, constructing a protruding boardwalk (white sand softly duned at the struts evoking the sea); a slightly unbalanced wooden stage – kingdoms constructed from ships; and later nautical allusions of large twined ropes, hanging installations that inferred trees; all set against textured backdrops of perfect sailing weather skies.

Kirsty Hillhouse as the glamourous Olivia, mourning the recent deaths of both her father and brother wallowed attractively, easily resisting Orsini’s (Kenneth Ransom) consistent advances and later thunderstruck when she falls madly in love with Viola in the guise of Orsini’s page, Cesario.

Hillhouse and Amanda Woodhams as Cesario/ Viola made a comical sight, their height difference even more pronounced as the Lady dashed about in tailored heels and espadrilles. Woodhams was utterly convincing in appearance as male page Cesario - add some wire-rimmed glasses and she’d be the spitting image of Daniel Radcliffe’s Harry Potter - and she handled her lead role well, giving us a journey through her emotions, though I did find some of her monologues a little distancing; surprising, considering they are usually intended to draw an audience closer to the character by gaining an insight into their thoughts.

Smaller players Steve Turner as minstrel Feste, Luke Hewitt as happy drunkard Sir Toby Belch, scene-stealing Ingle Knight as the Walter Mitty-ish Sir Andrew Aguecheek, and obnoxious steward Malvolio, played with relish by Geoff Kelso were even more outrageous characters; a guffawing distraction from the more straight playing romantic comedy plot.

As is usual for a comedy, misunderstandings abound, and though there is the modern query of homoeroticism in the attraction between Orsini and “Cesario” (and in this play, a Sapphic hint when Olivia discovers the boy she is in love with is actually a girl), both couples end gender appropriately matched and with happy endings all round.

A sweet voyage in Shakespearean waters.

The Swimming Club

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).

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.

Much Ado about Nothing

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

As an arbor of autumnal leaves freckle across its heaven, Black Swan State Theatre’s production of Much Ado about Nothing opens with a languid sigh; the fair citizens of Messina ambling onto the sun dappled stage, all reactions slowed to remind the audience of the unhurried pleasure of a summer’s day…despite Perth’s chilly night!

Soon though, the soldiers from a distant war return and the action picks apace as robust testosterone zings into the mostly estrogen air of this idyllic village town, and Cupid’s arrow finds its mark when handsome Claudio (Stuart Halusz) is felled by the sweet smile of Hero (Shubhadra Young), daughter and heir to their avuncular host Leonato (Michael Loney, scenery chewing his way through the Shakespearean text with relish).

Leonato welcomes back Don Pedro and his men and invites them to stay, relax, and be entertained; a celebration of having returned safely. The fair maidens of Messina quickly choose a favourite, but lively and fearless Beatrice, a defiant bachelorette, is nonplussed about all the matchy matchiness and instead verbally jousts with fellow nemesis snark Benedick, both almost unaware just how much fun they obtain in each other’s company with their ongoing competition of wordy one-upmanship.

Kirsty Hillhouse was an engaging Beatrice, her eloquent tone and charming manner disguising some sharp bon mots, softened somewhat by a smart twinkle of familial love in her eye. Benedick sported Kenneth Ransom’s natural American accent which while initially a novelty every time he spoke, was easily accepted, the original play notes mentioning that the soldiers are drawn from many countries. His lanky frame was well suited to some slapstick scenes and the love-hate chemistry between his character and Beatrice was delicious.

In all this honey there comes a fly, and a dour trio of party poopers led by Austin Castiglione as illegitimate pretender to the throne Don John, plots to humiliate regal Don Pedro (Steve Turner) who has recently courted Hero on behalf of Claudio. Little lies and intimations on the nature of Hero’s chastity lead to the first act finale of the worst wedding day scenario for a bride ever.

But this is a comedy, and of-many-roles Luke Hewitt in his alternate guise of Friar Francis shrewdly advises Hero to play possum and her family to likewise shroud themselves in mourning as he convinces them that news of her death will flush out the real culprits of this conspiracy.

It turns out that he’s right, as boastful Borachio (Tim Solly) with the sneering Conrade (Brendan Ewing) have drunk enough alcohol to reach the level of stupidity that allows them to not only spill their entire plot with Don John, naming names and pronouncing payment terms; but to be heard and captured by the largely ineffectual Messina night watch.

Dogberry (Geoff Kelso with more than a touch of Dad’s Army) and his Boy Scout lieutenant Verges (Brendan Hanson) remarkably manage to interrogate two battle hardened soldiers and handle the truth well enough to prove Hero’s innocence.

Claudio, remorseful and prepared for his punishment of a life married to Hero’s “cousin” is instead given back the girl of his dreams, but the audience has already moved onto the much more vibrant romance of Benedick and Beatrice, who really have a much more stable start to their union having dispensed with civility upon a previous meeting and told each other to their faces all their flaws and faults upfront!

Behind the scenes kudos to director Kate Cherry, set and costume designer Christina Smith, and lighting designer David Murray for setting the stage for a sparkling and witty Shakespearean night out.