Six Characters in Search of an Author

Monday, 8 February 2010

What a peculiar show. I have seen a more traditional version of this production directed by Gregory Jones of Whiplash Theatre a few years ago, so I suppose I probably had more of an inkling than most to the surreal storyline of this piece; but even so, what this new version by Rupert Goold and Ben Power of Headlong Theatre presented to the PIAF festival audience at UWA’s Octagon Theatre was almost like the original story on steroids – there were so many supplementary ideas and add-ins, not to mention a shift in presented media, that one could only think that the original Italian playwright, Luigi Pirandello, would have gaped and then applauded the audacity of this current incarnation.

Caroline McCormack (most famous as Mel Gibson’s village sweetheart and lost love in Braveheart) was the harried Producer, in charge of a docu-drama designed to be solemn and affecting but with the palpable undercurrent of audience manipulation.
Her team, made up of a cynical Editor (Robin Pearce), a Cameraman (Jake Harders), and two Actors (Sarah Belcher and Jamie Bower) appeared to be in the middle of recreating and discussing scenes for a documentary that purported to deal with the confronting topic of euthanasia for children struck by chronic diseases.

But that turns out to be red herring, and all that talk, talk, talk with the producer and financial backer The Exec (Martin Ledwith) goes awry when six characters in gothic black turn up, their faces powdered harlequin white, and with an irresistible force, they convince the Producer that their’s is a story worth telling and reliving, and they won’t take no for an answer.

The dysfunction integral to their sordid tale remains the same as the original, but the deviations begin to swirl soon enough; instead of a theatre rehearsal room from the original, we now have the new media of video; and florescent lighting and static screens give the unfolding tone of this story a J-horror creep that trickled throughout the audience in the Octagon auditorium.

Storylines are revealed to be bait-and-switch twists, and while the actors were impressive in their individual roles – Denise Gough as the Stepdaughter was fearless, and Ian McDiarmid (infamous as evil Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars) was concurrently more avuncular and yet just as chilling as you knew he had the power to be; but ultimately you never actually felt for any of the characters. Even the minor roles of the Girl (drowning in the aquarium – neat special effect), or the Boy (silent and small with Lennon shades and a blank face) were ciphers; “reality” and “time” were toyed with to such an extent that you barely had the compulsion to figure out where the play was taking you or who was distressed and suffering on the stage, and consequently whether you really cared.

It was an interesting, challenging piece of theatre, and no doubt a Festival talking point, but for me, a little unsatisfying - however I will admit, more humorous that I expected.

Side by Side by Sondheim

Thursday, 4 February 2010

The Studio at the Subiaco Arts Centre was dressed to be timelessly chic and sophisticated in drop-dead black, lit apparently by the chandelier haloing light over Tim Cunniffe as he sat at one of two baby grand pianos that dominated the stage.

Invited to sit in the style of an intimate cabaret revue, the audience was dazzled over the span of the show, treated to a sample celebration of the earlier works of one of the greatest composers and lyricists of modern musical theatre, Stephen Sondheim.

The show opened with the crowd-pleasing “Comedy Tonight” from A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, a cheeky farce of mistaken identities and noises-off bawdiness set in ancient Rome.

Director and designer Gregory Jones has adopted Wintour vogue for his latest vision and decreed black to be the new black, and the easy fashion to stick mainly to this shade (save for it’s opposite on the spectrum and the occasional colour flashes from boas, Christmas lights and tutus(!), made you feel impossibly stylish and practically New York-ian.

Ross Bryant took a little time to settle into his role as Narrator, but was useful in providing those new to Sondheim with a little history on the man, his music, and just what was happening within the historical landscape of the mid to late 20th Century when these productions were first launching along the great White Way.

The performers were individually immensely watchable and as an ensemble well suited. Simon Loughton was handsome and assured, an appealing leading man to voice Sondheim’s lassair faire tenors.
Tim How switched capably between being the Everyman (hilarious in “The Little Things You Do Together” with Sherry-Anne Hayes) to being the clown.

Casey Edwards appeared to be channelling musical theatre goddess Carolyn O’Connor: pixie cut – check, arch eyebrows and knowing smile – check, hella wow voice – a definite check.
Sherry-Anne Hayes was the goofy cute comedienne, her face wide-eyed and appealing (think Amy Adams in Enchanted), punched with the screwball comedic delivery of Debra Messing circa Will & Grace.
Gillian Binks completed the quintet as the all rounder, excelling in droll delivery (You Must Meet My Wife) to melancholic nostalgia (Send in the Clowns) and just for good measure, rapid-fire panicked patter (Getting Married Today).

With so much to enjoy, it was an evening of so much more than just a little night music from a very polished company.

The Velveteen Rabbit

Saturday, 30 January 2010

Walking into Fremantle’s Spare Parts Puppet Theatre, I realised with a wonder that I have never seen any shows here before. Surprising, considering puppetry is one of the earliest forms of story telling, and Perth had not too long ago hosted the 20th UNIMA (Union Internationale de la Marionnette) Congress & World Puppetry Festival.

The lobby and theatre was filled with chatty tykes and their corralling parents and/or grandparents, and the small stride shuffle eventually brought the audience full into the reasonably sized theatre facing a dark sectionally blocked stage.

Despite the large, human-sized puppets that had awed us earlier on display in the lobby, when the play opened (various panels were revealed and redressed throughout to progress the story), you realised that on the whole, puppets are small, and as this tale was particularly dealing with toys, the producers had chosen to give us proportionate as opposed to exaggerated.

SPPT’s retelling of Margery Williams’ beloved tale had a distinctly contemporary, casual feel as the ubiquitous Damon Lockwood and fellow actor Ben Russell, expressively and with comedy duo finesse voiced two introductory characters (an action figure and a night light glow worm, not mentioned in the book) who told of Christmas, the threat of new toys displacing them and ultimately, questioning each other on what it means to be Real.

The Velveteen Rabbit (voiced by Michelle Robin Anderson) a cuddly soft toy with a shortened base to replace his back legs and an inquisitive innocence, was a Christmas present delightfully realised, and had there been versions of him on sale as part of the theatre merchandise, I would have no doubt that just about every parent would have been badgered incessantly to please, please please! get one.

The narrative played around with sections of the plot and dialogue (the original story looks to be set around the turn of the 20th century, when the threat of scarlet fever was much more prevalent) but overall, its embellishments were more for humour and characterisation. I was reminded of Pixar’s Toy Story on a number of occasions, which no doubt owes a debt to some of this story’s themes.

With a running time of under an hour (before there would be too much seat squirming by those with a short attention span) it nonetheless captivated its chosen audience and was a cute piece of fun theatre for the grown ups too.

An oft-spoken child’s wish brought to life.

The Sapphires

Saturday, 25 January 2010

Having been delayed from it’s October 2009 premiere to accommodate a more collaborative move and be part of the 2010 line-up of the Perth International Arts Festival, I was expecting big things from Company B Belvoir’s The Sapphires, an amalgam retelling of an indigenous forgotten girl group from the 1960s.

I will say right of the bat that I was disappointed with the preview I attended. While an avuncular introduction by director Wesley Enoch was at first charming, it was soon shaped as an apology as he detailed delays that the production had come up against and then stated that this performance was going to have to accommodate a few stops and starts (for safety purposes) and that for all intents and purposes it was going to be treated as a final dress rehearsal.

The director even went so far as to jokingly call the audience cheap for having chosen to attend a preview. Oh really?

Live theatre is fraught with the unexpected, and while the stage, setting and music were something to sing about, the transitions were at times clunky and laboured and there were more than a few delays while the leading ladies zipped through the multitudes of quick changes the script called for.

Though the fourth wall was broken by occasional asides from a miked Enoch, I will admit that at times the show could really hit it’s stride. Jimi Bani was infectious and charismatic as Cynthia’s (Casey Donovan) erstwhile lover-on-the-run and he did a mean impression of James Brown that had the audience ready to get on up! And there was no doubting the singing talent on offer with Christina Anu and Casey Donovan deliciously deadly and diva ready.

In the end, despite all the trails and tribulations The Sapphires impressed, and the show will probably go on to be the hot ticket at this year’s festival. It’s just a pity that it decided to be fashionably late about it.

You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown

Thursday, 21 January 2010

A step back into an innocent, more nostalgic time, You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown, is a curious musical - made up of vignettes reminiscent of the classic newspaper comic which American baby boomers grew up with, and populated by actors who are probably more familiar with Ginger Meggs, our own popular larrikin version, rather that this neurotic lovable loser.

Mesh Theatre has done their best with the slight premise, and the obvious lack of plot, to instead showcase some of the more familiar Peanuts characters in this production. The result is an appealing kick that could almost serve as an alternative to the high gloss of kid-specific juggernauts The Wiggles, or more comparatively, Hi-5.

When this comic strip by Charles M Schulz first appeared over 50 years ago, the general ages of the children (postulated to be around 5 - 6 years old) was an irony to the more mature middle school dialogue they were spouting; but in 2010 I wouldn’t say those concepts have been fast forwarded, but rather superceded – with the iGeneration now more immersed than ever in a screen life of mobiles, internet and video, this show emerges as a charmer; happiness is…chasing butterflies and rabbits with your pet dog, playing a toy piano with the seriousness of a maestro, making up kissing/ advice booths – this is a world of imagination and play, where adults sound muffled and don’t make any sense, everything and everyone is usually bigger than you, and your pet is both an ace flyer and a high kicking singing sensation.

Standouts in the uniformly well voiced cast were Amberly Cull as Charlie’s little sister Sally, button cute with a Betty Boop voice to match, bringing winsome determination and joy to “My New Philosophy”; and Bri Williams as the indefatigable Snoopy, fearless and free, living the perennial childhood that an entitled pet has the luxury to know nothing else of. Her “Suppertime” dance number was a crowd roaring showstopper, and her appealing characterization and top-of-doghouse musings were exactly how you’d expect Snoopy to think and sound like.

A snack tasty skip down memory lane.

An Evening with David Sedaris

Tuesday, 19 January 2010

A friend had a spare ticket to what turned out to be a packed house at His Majesty’s Theatre, as the literati of Perth - with gleaming smart spectacles and an air of blameless sophistication - welcomed best-selling author David Sedaris to the Wild West.

The three-time Grammy Award nominee, probably best known for his books, “Me Talk Pretty One Day”, which had won the author the 2001 Thurber Prize for American Humour; and “Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim” of which the audio book read by Sedaris had been nominated for Best Spoken Word album in 2004; was touring Australia’s far flung shores as part of a general itinerary that had included one of his favourite countries, Japan.

He had wryly observed that getting on a plane to fly over 22 hours to a destination should reveal the traveller to another, almost otherworldly locale, like possibly, Mercury, but that Australia in general seemed to be a mixture of the surreal and familiar, America lite as it were.

Well lived and well travelled, the evening opened up on stage with an introduction in German by his Australian manager (!) which was soon translated to be along the lines of “We have David Sedaris and will trade him for all your flamboyant homosexuals”; a rather humorous and unconventional way to start a show!

But I guess this was more of a book reading event which just happened to be showcased at the theatre. It was a testament to the author’s popularity, and while he decries being described as a performer, time spent on National Public Radio in the 1990s and numerous appearances on the talk show circuit have honed his voice to be to an expressive reflection of his interior monologue and autobiographical works.

While he seemed initially dwarfed on stage by a background of large red curtains and a lectern he admitted he happily hid behind, his voice soon overtook the physical and the nuance, sly humour, sarcasm and deft timing brought his essays, elaborations and allegories to life.

A story about a gated forest was politely received, but given more ironic resonance when he commented that our airport security measures appear to be from the 1970s - Homeland Security in the States is obviously becoming a bane to not only visitors but citizens alike; however his droll and entertaining observational humour (with just a touch of verklempt) skewed well with the audience, well primed in the foyer earlier as Sedaris patiently signed copies of his books and CDs.

Some of the funniest tales of course, involved his tourist eye view of Australia, it’s people, animals and language; and the ‘kook’ aburra featured as a star attraction, sporting the “buzz cut of a high school gym teacher”, a slightly feared creature lashed in browns from “beige to walnut”.

He recounted that along with his sister Amy (now well known from her cult comedy series, Strangers with Candy) they had sung the classic Australian nursery rhyme “Kookaburra (sits in the old gumtree)” practically non-stop one night, almost driving their not-quite-fearsome, underwear relaxing father to distraction. How startling to hear this sing-song come out with an American accent! I confess I sang it happily on the way home.

An amusing evening unexpected, enjoyed and well spent.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Friday, 4 December 2009

Roleystone Theatre seem determined to work their way through musical theatre legend Stephen Sondheim’s eclectic catalogue, having staged Assassins earlier this year and scheduling Into the Woods for 2010. But I’ll wager none will be as bloody at this production of Sweeney Todd, an inspired penny dreadful ‘grusical’ which parlays the Victorian urban legend of a fiendish barber who slices the throats of his hapless customers, and his lovelorn but even more insidiously guilty accomplice, Mrs Lovett (a whole creature cook no doubt) who proceeds to mince all that perfectly good meat into tasty pies whetting the appetite of the London working class. Masterchef with a cannibalistic twist!

Director Stephen Carr has presented a rich musical theatre experience, seeking to satisfy the palette of any Sondheim devotee, with able support from Musical Director Matt Austin who tackles the complex score replete with counterpoint and angular harmonies with reasonable assurance.

The strong introduction by the Ensemble singing The Ballad of Sweeney Todd was a Greek Chorus on fire, and their interludes pushed along the plot and background details of this revenge tale; their vocal collective a testament to the sheer hard work and talent on stage. The scene at the Bedlam Mental Institution was particularly well staged; the silhouetted starkness cinematic and clever, and more than a little disquieting when the lunatics began to break through their paper walls.

Inhabiting the title role was Scott Burns, his sturdy vocalizations overlaid with surly sarcasm, as he carried the weight of 15 years of hard labour throughout his demeanor, looking through everyone with cynical dead eyes and pitch black humour. Lindsay McNab as Mrs Lovett rendered her role with a nice, even voice, but at times her complex patter was lost in the speed of the score. Timothy How, as Tobias Ragg, an orphan assistant to popinjay rival barber Pirelli ( Manuao TeAotonga) seemed to be channeling early Jerry Lewis with his man-child simpleton shtick; complete with pigeon-toed gait, heightened squeal of a speaking voice (I half expected him to utter Lewis’ signature “Hey, Lai-dy!”) and half-wit determinism.

Delivering his lines with handsome projection was Paul Treasure as Judge Turpin (Boo! Hiss!), whose considerable physical stature incited genuine loathing for his character as he sang of the naked lust for his ward Johanna, the child of the woman he raped after incarcerating her husband (Benjamin Barker now returned as Sweeney Todd) on a trumped up charge. The images of the Judge flagellating his corpulent bulk, marking his back to somehow lessen his inward depravity were saliently disturbing.

The pacing for the production was a slight quibble; the last third of the First Act became unrepentant save for the small bird of a love story between Johanna (Cassie Skinner) and Anthony Hope (Owen Measday). And the set design incorporated a three tiered sectioning of the whole performance area which though reasonably innovative for a community theatre production, was at times problematic. While the middle stage was well utilized, and entries and walk ways through the audience broke the fourth wall for a this-is-live-theatre! effect; the far back raised stage seemed at times distant and cramped, and the few songs presented from this quarter were at risk of being drowned by the musicians housed right behind the flat.

Overall, however, a fine interpretation of this bloody difficult musical.