Sydney Theatre Reviews

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 (reviewed 6 September).

It’s always nice to see a show again after it has been revised and reworked, like a stew that keeps getting better and better. Yep, we’re talking about the remarkable work that is Plenty of Fish in the Sea, previously reviewed at Flying Nun in Darlinghurst. This iteration is part of Sydney Fringe’s Made in Sydney program.

Starring Emily Ayoub and Madeline Baghurst who are the show’s creators and directors, and joined by Christopher Samuel Carroll, this allegorical journey in a little French village is full of fishy surprises. A nun and her acolyte have quite a catch on their hands, a full blooded male, to be precise, after rescuing him from drowning. They put him to work to help them fish for the largest catch of all to make the best sumptuous stew in honour of their patron saint, Saint-Cotriade. But, having a man around where men aren’t really in abundance, one thing leads to another…

The props, sound effects and tableaux are extraordinary, jolting the audience with strangeness and wonder. One minute they are drinking soup slowly, languidly, while the next getting high, getting wild, and getting it on. Maybe someone put magic mushrooms in the soup, who knows? But the resulting freak out is very effective.

This version is a fair bit more abbreviated than the one reviewed earlier this year, which had the benefit of subtitles. It’s not a dealbreaker, when this is the kind of storytelling where actions speak louder than words. Silence is Golden after all, as referenced in the play.

The previous version also made more obvious references to the parallel between making a catch and shallow dating culture. The emphasis here seems to be more on the climatic shock value.

On a final note, while the show is rated PG, there are simulations of raunchy sex and topless nudity. We’re no prudes, but be warned!

Still, it’s a wonderful gem to enjoy again, and highly recommend seeing it with its bookended billing of short plays (Betty is a Butcher and Blacklisted) to enjoy an all round, satisfying night at the theatre.

Plenty of Fish in the Sea, presented by Clockfire Theatre Productions, is playing at PACT Theatre until 9 September. For tickets and showtimes, go to https://sydneyfringe.com/events/plenty-of-fish-in-the-sea/

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.8 (reviewed 5 September).

As far as Australian musicals go it doesn't get any better than this. The Dismissal, An Extremely Serious Musical Comedy is a dazzling reenactment of the 1975 constitutional crisis that led to Gough Whitlam's sacking by the Governor-General, Sir John Kerr. It is one of the most iconic and documented moments in our recent political history.

If you ever saw the 1983 ABC mini-series called The Dismissal you will note a lot of similarities in the narrative structures, which works very well to convey political events and personalities to a broad, diverse audience. Jay James-Moody is credited for conceptualising and directing the musical, and it is evident he has a passion for storytelling that is both accessible and engaging. A lot of musicals I've seen of late have trouble 'landing' the words when the music is overpowering, or tries to cram too much into the back-story, but here every word, articulation and concept is crystal clear. The vision and choreography is strong and highly amusing, with many scenes garnering rapturous applause for their bravado. There are no dull moments or annoying singy-songy-songs that make you want to look at your phone. It keeps you fully immersed and present. I always vouch for a soundtrack too if the songs are super catchy, and I have no hesitation to ask for one here! Please make it happen!!

The casting and acting is top tier; so bloody good they should all be cast again in a musical of The Castle if that ever happens (actually, there is one coming up in Victoria). Maybe I'm dreaming, but there's something about the vibe of 1970s nostalgia that is so much fun to watch in this production. It milks everything and everyone for full comedic effect. Malcolm Fraser, played by Andrew Cutcliffe, seduces his way into the flaccid and fractured Liberal Party leadership with his impenetrable confidence and immaculate dress sense. His boys swoon with gyrating pleasure. Sir John Kerr is played by Octavia Barron Martin, an intellectually soft pawn in comparison to those with the privilege of private schooling. Martin manages to make Kerr, one of the most hated men of his time, comedic, interesting and sympathetic. Kerr's style of fashion reminds me of The Fat Controller from Thomas the Tank Engine, which is fitting given Kerr was the son of a boiler maker. Rupert Murdoch is played by a puppet, which seems very fitting too. Matthew Whittet plays gorky comedian Norman Gunston who was on the steps of parliament house when Whitlam made his famous 'God save the Queen' speech. Whittet is every bit as gorky and gormless as Gunston, so much so that he had us rolling in the isles at 'hello' (by the way - whoever did the vocal coaching needs a gold medal - it's so good to hear just how alike the actors' voices are to the personalities they play).

Peter Carroll who narrated the ABC's version of The Dismissal stars in this show as Sir Garfield Barwick, Chief Justice of Australia, a gravelly reptilian wizard who does a fair bit of shit-stirring. Nice to see him coming full circle. Monique Sallé has a ball being a host of characters including our former Queen, former Liberal Leader Billy Snedden and shady International Trade Emissary Tirath Khemlani that cost the Labor party a fair deal of credibility. Ouch. Adding to the Labor Party woes, the affair between Doctor Jim Cairns and Junie Morosi is thoroughly examined too, played by Joe Kosky and Shannen Alyce Quan respectably. Other standout portrayals include Margaret Whitlam (Brittanie Shipway), former Minerals and Energy Minister, Rex Connor (Georgie Bolton) and Lady Anne Kerr (Stacey Thomsett). Finally of course there is Gough Whitlam played by Justin Smith, with all the mighty charismatic intellect that defined him, and also naive optimism that was his achilles heel.

The musical earned a well deserved standing ovation on opening night. It's sexy, witty, playful and quintessentially Australian in taking the mickey, while having something relevant to say about our national identity, democracy and egalitarianism.

In short, it's time to see this musical. To appropriate a lyric by The Whitlams, There's no aphrodisiac like politics.

The Dismissal, An Extremely Serious Musical Comedy is playing at Seymour Centre until 21 October 2023. For tickets and showtimes go to https://www.seymourcentre.com/event/the-dismissal/

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📸: David Hooley

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 (reviewed opening night 31 Aug).

Moist is a (butt)-cracker of a show, conceived by Scratch Arts' CEO and Creative Director, Timothy Christopher Ryan. It is a nicely themed show about erotic gay culture and a futuristic climate change warning that there isn't a drop of water left to drink. Yet through song, dance and plenty of skin, Timothy is able to manifest their wishes come hell or high water.

The acrobatic sequences by the four lads in the show are very good, from partner to threesome balancing acts, hula-hooping, mopping, twerking and cavorting around like the boys from Chariots of Fire. The erotic fountain tableau is a strong viscerical image, as is the UV cum-bath to the tune of It's Raining Men.

The one hour show flows quickly, with plenty of bubbles and audience laughter, though a little more fluidity, polish and sparkle could elevate its potential further. Lots of great fun and a good entertaining start to Sydney Fringe.

Moist is on at Moore Park till 10 September. Head to the big white tent next to the oval in the centre of the Entertainment Quarter. For tickets and showtimes, go to https://sydneyfringe.com/events/moist/

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 (reviewed Sat 26 Aug)

Move over Oppenheimer, THIS is the must-see conspiracy of the year!

When Margaret Thanos is in the director's chair you know you're in for a great show. Ambitious, political and entertainingly OTT, this version of A Very Expensive Poison reflects Thanos' vision for powerful, impactful theatre, as big as a Scorsese or Cameron picture. 

The large ensemble reassembles most of the cast and creatives that we last reviewed in Labyrinth, also a political play directed by Thanos. She told Sydney Theatre Reviews at the time about what draws her to these passion projects:

"I do believe that telling stories can change the world. It’s so important in contemporary society to have a sense of empathy. From my understanding of the political sphere I see a lot of people losing compassion for each other, losing the understanding that we are all human beings. And I think that’s what stories facilitate – they facilitate observing an experience that is not your own and having a feeling about it – having sympathy or empathy for the character. And that’s why I think directing a show can be just as much a political statement as going to a protest or making an Instagram post."

This play tells the true story of Russian secret agent, Alexander Litvinenko, and how he was murdered by radiation poisoning, after drinking green tea laced with Polonium-210. The plot sounds like it's straight out of a James Bond film, complete with plenty of raunchy sex and espionage, but there's more to this complex story that elevates it above action-hero genre.

The actors' delivery is an enticing cocktail mix of serious drama and random humour, with characters frequently breaking the fourth wall to get the message across of just how closely we are connected to this real life tragedy. Alexander Litvinenko (played by Richard Cox) just wants to do an honourable job in a high risk profession, but he's up against some pretty hardcore fucked up shit, including a democratically elected despot named Vladimir Putin (played with creepy clownish relish by Tasha O'Brien). End of Act 1 reminds us of Putin's involvement in the siege at Moscow Theater crisis which resulted in the deaths of 130 hostages. We sit there, too shocked to realise we now have to leave for intermission, but none of us do. 

Poison's other antagonist is extravagant businessman Boris Bereszovsky, a sort of Russian Donald Trump played with coke-head playboy charm by none other than Angus Evans (of course!!). In Labyrinth we described his performance as "a demented Willy Wonka crossed with Emperor Caligula". In this play, the character that everyone wants to (literally) assassinate even gets his own musical numbers. Putin is not amused.

Chloe Schwank plays Marina Litvinenko, devoted wife of Alexander, with grace and authority. Their relationship becomes the focal point of the story, how they navigated the danger, the secrecy and the tragedy that engulfed them. Alexander did not not die immediately from Polonium poisoning; it took at least 20 days of agonising pain while in hospital, during which he publicly shared his final words to the perpetrators of the crime. It would take Marina another 10 years to finally bring his case to justice against a slow and reluctant UK government, too used to relying on soft power and quasi diplomatic relations. It's hard to believe that back in the day Tony Blair rang Putin to congratulate him for being a hero during the siege crisis. Theatre sorely reminds us that history won't be forgotten. 

It's very pleasing to see dancing and acrobatics being incorporated into this production, with very dynamic choreography facilitated by movement director Diana Paola Alvarado. The freeze framing and background activity also populates the scenes with a sense of action and sinister purpose. Even the medical staff seem particularly nonplussed at having a poisoned patient on their hands, and their apathy feels part of the conspiracy.

Costumes by Aloma Barnes keeps us connected to a vibrant, dynamic story (just quietly, we'd love to know the source of Marina's red velvet dress at the end of Act 2). The set design also by Aloma Barnes generously fills the stage at New Theatre with a bleak, stone cold grey tunnel, creating the backdrop in  Russia / UK where this play is set. Against this bleakness, the crazy antics of Russian roulette in a world of money, women and corruption stand out with vibrant pops of red and sparkle. Gorgeous lighting design by Jasmin Borsovszky drapes the characters in an aura of mystery and intrigue.

If there is any room for improvement, it would be to rely a little less on breaking fourth wall. The intention makes perfect sense during the siege (to create a personal connection) but overusing it breaks momentum and loses dramatic impact. Alexander's final speech is too important to be rushed through with casual Aussie drawl. After witnessing Cox's deeply immersed and methodical characterisation as Alexander, for him to then break character, one almost has to ask, what was the point of doing all those Russian accents in the first place? Similarly, Schwank's sudden break of character ('well, I'm not really Marina Litvinenko') is too jarring. Suspension of belief is what creates the magic of theatre. As Chaplin says in Chaplin directed by Richard Attenborough, breaking character breaks a contract with the audience that you just can't win back. And, as much as it's tempting to engage members of the audience by asking to read judges' verdicts out loud, hearing them stumble and trip over Russian names loses force when you have an ensemble of 16+ actors with much more vocal professionalism and power. We get it, we need to be 'part of the story', but this type of appeal isn't necessary to create empathy. It was there from the beginning.

On another note, the script by Lucy Prebble is quite convoluted and clunky in Act 1, and the pace feels like being stuck in 3rd gear on the M1 with random spurts of energy to keep it going forward. Act 1 alone is 90 minutes (!!) and feels like a protracted dramatisation of a Wikipedia entry. However, Act 2 swiftly picks up the momentum and drives home the intention that fully captivates the audience: who poisoned Alexander Litvinenko and how did it happen? We are fully invested in this objective, which is clear, purposeful and intentional. The sound of radiation detection devices is the most riveting piece of detective theatre seen in a long time, and the reference to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is a nice touch.

Overall, A Very Expensive Poison is challenging theatre that uses humour very effectively to make it accessible and engaging. Well done to Thanos, the cast and the creative team for taking risks in creating bold, daring theatre, and pouring incredible love, energy and passion in realising the artistic vision.

A Very Expensive Poison is playing at New Theatre until 16 September. For tickets and showtimes, go to https://newtheatre.org.au/a-very-expensive-poison/

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📸: Bob Seary

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (reviewed Fri 18 Aug)

Brilliant 5-star acting in a 3-star script gives this production of The Approach an average of 4-stars. The gentle, meandering script written by Irish playwright Mark O'Rowe offers a wry examination of women caught up in a cycle of bad relationships and domestic superficiality (dieting, work, home renovations etc) and how they go about broaching the subjects of trauma, suicide, sibling rivalry, family estrangement and abuse. It reaches for tension and intrigue, but comes across as just a bit too flippant and pedestrian. Perhaps it's my bias bristling at the notion of a female-centric narrative written by a man, but the overall effect is a bit trite, like serving a dish with bottled sauce thrown over some cold pasta and calling it 'Gourmet Italian'. I'm hungry now, but let's move on to the things that really stood about this play and elevated it to a much more satisfying, cozy meal.

The trio of actors are unequivocally A-grade talent. Linda Nicholls-Gidley surprised me as I have interviewed her on Zoom and still took me a good 30 seconds to realise she was on stage, speaking quite naturally with an Irish accent (Nicholls-Gidley is also a renowned accent and dialect coach). As Anna, the sister with a cross to bear, she swallows that jagged little pill, channeling all her bitterness and pent up rage in a Celtic version of Alanis Morissette. She's estranged from her sister, Denise, who stole her lover and moved on quickly when he committed suicide.

Denise, played by Sarah Jane Starr, is sharp and compelling to watch. As a perky young mum with another child on the way, her body language and mannerisms are very natural and not contrived, such as rolling her foot in eagerness of hearing more gossip about her friend's romantic escapades. 

Lindsey Chapman, as the conduit friend, Cora, also has quite expressive mannerisms that authenticates her demure character torn between two friendships.

There's honestly nothing more that could have been asked from these outstanding, connected performances, with superb accent coaching by Simon Masterton.

The setting is minimalist and unobtrusive, but needs a few more props to provide context (sound effects by Kieran Camejo takes us to a busy cafe, but the large round unadorned boardroom table is a little odd). Some cups, cutlery, or even a menu would have provided some meaningful distractions during the pregnant pauses, like when you want to get really angry at someone but can't because you're in a public setting. That constraint feels a bit lost.

The pre-show Irish ballad music which we could hear in the foyer, curated by stage manager Natalie Baghoumian, is top tier. With tracks by Sinead O'Connor and The Cranberries (lead singer Dolores O'Riordan also died tragically), it reminds us of the fragility of human life.

Overall, this approach to The Approach, directed by Deborah Jones and assisted by Olivia Bartha, adds some rich, authentic flavour to a very basic dish.

The Approach, presented by Vox Theatre in association with Dead Fly Productions, is playing at Flight Path Theatre until 2 September. For tickets and showtimes, go to https://www.flightpaththeatre.org/whats-on/the-approach

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📸: Abraham de Souza

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (reviewed 12 Aug)

Captain Moonlite presented by Richmond Players is a rich biographical account of one of Australia's most notorious bushrangers. Beautifully evocative with the same sensitivity and flavour of iconic Aussie films, this engaging musical directed by Johnathon Brown takes the audience on a historical journey through the physical and emotional landscape that shaped Andrew George Scott's transformation from auspicious clergyman to outlaw, whose legendary antics captured the public and media's imagination.

Writer of Captain Moonlite, Jye Bryant, told Sydney Theatre Reviews he was inspired by the cell notes left behind by Scott, which were suppressed from public access for at least a century. Bryant also wanted to tell a story that exposed the truth and injustice behind Scott's trial, which was heavily biased by sensationalist media reports. Thirdly, Bryant wanted to acknowledge Scott's queer relationship with his fellow gang member, James Nesbitt, a fact also suppressed in historical accounts.

Bryant's writing is simply marvellous, every word a morsel to the ear, every sentence a line of perfect poetry that hangs together like intricate woven fabric. It's so beautifully worded that it could pass for a radio play; I would love to hear this again in its entirety on Spotify. 

The minimalist staging with basic props and curated stock images of bushland, gaols, workmans' houses and more, projected onto the back wall, takes you seamlessly from scene to scene.

Live music directed by Susan Brown, consisting of piano, flute, violin, electric bass and percussion, immerses us in Moonlite's Irish heritage and keeps us connected to the historical time period of the 1800s.

Act 2 is full of exciting re-enactments of shootouts, and 'bad horse-riding' improvised on wooden chairs drew immense laughter from the audience.

Before the show Bryant said he was always looking for feedback to improve the production for its next iteration. His approach so far is clearly working as the length and content felt perfect (it was at least an hour shorter than the advertised running time of 3 hours). 

The feedback for this particular show is around a few things that stood out to me as an audience member, a reviewer, and someone who has participated in the theatre:

1. The volume of the actors' delivery needed more steam. The large stage and theatre hall meant a lot of the beautiful lines didn't quite 'land'. It felt at times the words were drowned out by the music.

2. As Hamlet said to his actors, "do not saw the air...be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action." Some of the gestures needed more conviction to elevate dramatic tension. At times it looked too generalised and (obviously) 'fake-acted' which robs the audience of truthful storytelling. There are ways to depict violence without hurting anyone, and a violence coordinator can assist with this.

3. Shifting weight from foot to foot for no apparent reason when addressing the audience loses impact and power. It betrays uncertainty. It's an observation that gets picked up frequently in public speaking. A lone character on stage has to really "own it" by keeping the movements purposeful.

4. Peter David Allison in the lead role as Captain Moonlite seemed to be squinting a lot, and as the audience we couldn't really see his eyes which were hidden mostly in shadow.

5. Moonlite's death scene needs a content warning. It is quite graphic and shocking. That said, it is also done very, very well and has impact (see point 2).

Overall, I felt the Company really understood and transmitted the intention of the story. There was definitely a feeling of warmth and camaraderie with some scenes done exceptionally well. Lucas Galatidis surprised me with his deep melodious voice as the Reverend. Allison's portrayal and singing as Moonlite was very, very good, carrying the weighty narrative on his shoulders. Michael Clewes as James Nesbitt was very engaging. The remaining ensemble were excellent in their various roles.

I look forward to hearing more about future projects from Richmond Players. Tonight they showcased a piece of enlightening theatre that is historically accurate and well researched, but above all, delivered with a wonderful team effort from the staff, crew and volunteers committed to bringing the magic of theatre alive to the community of Richmond and beyond. As an audience member from Sydney, I felt extremely grateful to have witnessed a very powerful Australian story, topped with the warm welcoming hospitality of volunteers offering delicious homebaked goodies. Thank you one and all!! 🙏🙏

Captain Moonlite is on at Richmond School of Arts till 26 August 2023. For tickets and showtimes go to https://www.richmondplayers.com.au/captain-moonlite.html

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📸: Glenn Watson and Penny Johnson

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (reviewed opening night 9 August)

Glitter Punch by Lucy Burke is an engaging teenage love story that turns cliche on its head. Written as a monologue and performed as a two-hander, it takes the themes of love, angst, obsession, loss and grief and clenches the soul with the thorniest of twists.

Molly (Brittany Santariga) is a verbose, angsty teenager who feels her life is a bit of a sh!thole. With bubbly energy typical of a naive 16-year old, she bounces around on stage recounting every miniscule thought that pops in her head ("I'm shit with words and my tits are too small"). She feels her life is devoid of any real meaning...until she meets and falls head over heels in love with John (Lachlan Stevenson), a brooding, reticent man recovering from his own grief and loss.

Santariga delivers a kick-ass performance that shatters the illusion of any idealistic love. The fantasy of being in love isn't anything like it's supposed to be, yet we are rooting for her character to wake up and smell the roses. Stevenson as John is the strong and silent type, giving nothing away about his character. He plays off Molly's bubbly innocence very well, and ultimately breaks her heart in the cruelest of circumstances. Bastard!

This 50-min performance has the audience engaged right up till the very end, with intimate staging and lighting, and minimum props. Composition and sound design by Christopher Milbourn keeps us emotionally connected to the story. Stevenson directs the subtext beautifully; Glitter Punch indeed packs a punch with its uncomplicated yet powerful narrative.

Glitter Punch presented by Stacks On Theatre is playing at Flow Studios Camperdown until 16 August 2023. For tickets and showtimes go to https://linktr.ee/stacksontheatre

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📸: Pip Haupt

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 (reviewed Sat 29 July).

Fantastique presented by Willoughby Symphony Orchestra is an evening of elevated classical music made acccessible to a modern and diverse audience.

Stripping away all barriers of esoterism and remoteness, this curation of powerful compositions by the musical greats brings an immediacy and intimacy to the composers' artistic intention. Opening with an encore (yes encore!) of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, Chief Conductor and Artistic Director Dr Nicholas Milton AM entreated the crowd with a spiel about the ensuing works to be played.

The first half of the evening featured a very special guest, suprema violinist Rosa Donata Milton, playing her part as musician and muse as Dr Milton lavished his wife with love and praise for being a wonderful inspiration. Covering the repretoire of Enrich Wolfgang Korngold (1897 - 1957) Violin Concerto in D major Op.35, the orchestra spirited us all away into romantic reveries, beginning with the hauntingly exotic Moderato nobile with high pitched piercing chords of exqusite yearning, dropping into the gentle lull of Romance bubbling over a stream before picking up the tempo again with the plucky Finale (Allegro assai vivace).

Such tremendous love and generosity was extended by a solo from Rosa Donata Milton, playing Méditation from her favourite opera Thaïs by Jules Massenet in mesmerising and luminous fashion.

After the interval we welcomed Hector Berlioz (1803 - 1869) with Symphonie fantastique, Op.14. In his introduction Dr Milton described it as the composer's vision of "a romance merging into obsession...everything is exaggerated...there is horror and wonder...until you hear the sounds of skeletons dancing". No wonder then, that I instantly recognised the final piece, Dream of a Witches' Sabbath from the cult 1980s film Sleeping with the Enemy starring Julia Roberts, a drama about a woman escaping her psychotic, jealous, obsessive-compulsive husband.

Never has the sound of tubas and chimes been more spine-chilling!

The preceding works leading up to this sinister revelation includes Reveries - Passions, A Ball, Scene in the Fields, and March to the Scaffold. The generous layout of the Concert Hall stage allows the significance of the music to be amply heard, with the chimes elevated on the floor above.

Overall, Willoughby Symphony Orchestra are to be highly commended for bringing cultural enrichment and world-class performances right to the very doorstep of our local municipality. An evening of Fantastique tickles the ears with mellifluous magic, engages the intellect while satiating the soul and expands our musical vocabulary. On behalf of the audience tonight, thank you! ❤️

Fantastique by Willoughby Symphony Orchestra plays at the Concourse Chatswood until Sunday 30 July 2023. For more information about upcoming concerts go to https://www.willoughbysymphony.com.au

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (reviewed opening night Fri 28 July).

IMHO, there aren’t nearly enough pop-culture references to female orgasms. The ones we know of seem so iconic, a little racy and very memorable. The famous scene in When Harry Met Sally has stood the test of time. So has the song I Touch Myself by The Divinyls. In Sarah Ruhl’s landmark play, In the Next Room, or the vibrator play, the themes of female orgasm and masturbation is explored through the lens of medicine and science as dominated by men in the 1800s.

Ruhl embellishes the history of the vibrator to produce a wonderfully brilliant play that illuminates the subjection of women to an unthinkable notion she has agency in her own self-pleasure. In this story, Doctor Givings is treating female patients suffering from 'hysteria' in solemn secrecy in his New York city apartment using a device that looks like a Black+Decker power tool. Meanwhile, in the living room, his dutiful wife, Catherine, has no idea of what he is up to, but is curious all the same when his patients exit the office looking flush and invigorated. Determined to find out, Catherine breaks into her husband’s office and begins using the device on herself to discover what the fuss is all about. Hilarity ensues as it transpires the device can also (gasp!) be used to cure hysteria in men, leading one to paint a stunning image of the Madonna and Child from a real life model using the voluptuous wet nurse employed by the couple. Doctor (Mis) Givings isn’t too happy when he learns this all going under his roof, after all...he’s the doctor!

Paralleling this story is Catherine’s inability to produce enough breastmilk for her newborn infant, causing a feeling of identity loss and tremendous motherhood guilt. When Elizabeth, the wet nurse is (reluctantly) accepted by Catherine to provide for her baby, it comes with a hefty price tag of extreme jealously and insecurity. In short, Catherine feels ‘less of a woman’ for not being able to be the primary caregiver. However, the feeling is mutual as Elizabeth has also tragically lost her own newborn to cholera, and isn’t without apprehensions of her own in taking up the role as a surrogate mother for the Givings’ newborn.

With such serious and tragic themes on the table, Ruhl somehow manages to pull off a witty script that is more satirical than maudlin, more comical than erotic or titillating. Many of the scenes are uncomfortable to watch (such as the doctor massaging his clients’ genitals under a clinical white sheet), but as with all great plays, uncomfortable viewing is a given. We know we’re in a safe space when it feels like watching an episode of Seinfeld, or I Love Lucy, both shows spectacularly successful in popularising domestic comedy and adult themes. Kate Gandy’s marvellous performance as the hyper-talkative Catherine reminds me of Elaine from Seinfeld with hilarious foot-in-mouth syndrome. Her comedic timing is on point. Paul Sztelma plays it straight as the well-meaning but misguided Doctor Givings, bringing genteel authority to a man so buried in his own work of ‘making patients feel good’, he cannot appreciate the very person who loves and needs him the most. Christine Wilson as Elizabeth is brilliantly cast with all the qualities demanded of a layered role…a devoutly religious woman who tragically lost a child and is willing to undress for a stranger to realise his own artistic ambition. Her big blue expressive eyes speaks volumes about her tragedy and inner turmoil while listening to Catherine's insensitive babble. Julian Floriano as Leo Irving, the artist with a thwarted romantic love interest and is also looking for a cure for his ‘hysteria’ takes one for the team, up the backside to be precise, much to the audience’s screaming peals of laughter. Kimberlea Smith as the guarded and impenetrable Nurse Annie, Doctor Givings’ assistant, plays her part extremely well in colluding in the closeted secrecy of sisterhood, which gives the story a wonderful subtext of knowing glances and unspoken words that speaks to an unspeakable yearning. Lana Jean Hill is wonderfully comical as Sabrina Daldry, a highly strung female patient brought in for treatment by her husband. Her hilarious facial expressions conveying neuroticism and suspicion gets huge laughs from the crowd, as does her eager slide onto the operating table to be willingly treated again on a repeat visit. Chris Scarpellino as her devoted but clueless husband, Mr Daldry, delivers a very sweet, dependable performance full of naïve hope and promise for his wife’s recovery.

Meredith Jacobs has done a superb job of directing her cast to deliver sharp, comical and intellectually-layered performances in a play that risks being lowbrow for a (mostly senior) crowd at The Pavilion Theatre (which they seemed to thoroughly enjoy, by the way). It’s also refreshing to see the boundaries of female-centric narratives being pushed forward by female directors, which confronts the gender-divide in the professional and domestic realm without hitting the audience over the head with it. Instead, both the script and the directing takes subtle digs at flawed stereotypes, both male and female, to explore that great divide on a more psychological level. The cruel arrogance (and brilliance) of Edison is also duly noted, a man who invented the electric light bulb which forever revolutionised the modern world as we know it, but still wanted to prove he was superior to Tesla by electrocuting innocent animals with his rival's alternating current. Ouch.

If anything constructive could be said about this play, there was perhaps an opportunity to amp up the orgasm scenes a little more; as the audience we happily waited in sweet anticipation and (happily) would have loved to laugh longer. As my acting coach once said “it’s okay to go further than you think you should”.

The design team have outdone themselves with recreating the interior of 1880s New York, with clean lines dividing the living room from the doctor’s office. The stage curtains with shadows of keyholes/peepholes stay closed until the first line is uttered, taking us right into the heart of the action. The costume design by Annette Snars is beautifully tailored and crafted, giving a mysterious air to the characters, particularly the peculiarity of Mrs Daldry with her many fancy hats and accessories. The vibrator itself used in this play is a most impressive prop, hand-made for this production and modelled on references found in various museums and online to make it look legit-vintage.

Overall, In the Next Room or the vibrator play is definitely worth coming to (pardon the pun); entertaining, insightful, provocative and exceptionally well-crafted.

In the Next Room or the vibrator play is on at The Pavilion Theatre in Castle Hill until 19 August 2023. For tickets and showtimes, go to https://paviliontheatre.org.au/inthenextroom/
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Images: Chris Lundie

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1/2 (reviewed Friday 14 July)

Seeing this play is definitely an “experience worth the investment”, to appropriate a quote from this masterful revival of a 1912 German expressionist play presented by The Other Theatre Company. Written by Georg Kaiser, adapted by Dennis Kelly and dramaturged by Adam Yoon, it fuses surrealism with Kubrickian vision and precision, creating a work of art that is visually stunning, complete and very strong.

The first thing that strikes you about this production is the military discipline of the 15 cast members, every single one delivering a powerful performance with ambitious, machine-gun precision. The premise is simple: a woman goes into a bank to withdraw a large sum of money; her exotic beauty does not go unnoticed and becomes a gateway drug for a bank clerk stuck in his routine desk job. He steals 60,000 marks from the vault and goes off on an odyssey of rebellion to discover what it is he has been missing that will “make life worth living”. Is it rampant gambling at an elite sporting event? Is it a brothel? Is it his own loving, devoted family? Or helping the poor via the Salvation Army? Nothing seems to satisfy his craving for a taste of the other life, the life he feels like he has been missing; it becomes a horrible experiment in the law of diminishing returns, where the value of the thing (in this case money) seems less and less appealing the more one has of it.

The other thing that strikes you about this play is the unconventional, over-the-top, ham-fisted delivery that heightens the absurdity of the existentialist crisis. It works beautifully, creating haunting, vivid imagery reminiscent of Prokofiev’s Dance of the Knights (this specific piece isn’t used, but has undertones of it). We do hear a slice of George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue offering a throwback to the 1920s where this play is set. There are seven portable, shining booths malevolently moving around on stage that symbolise the seven stages of crucifixion that the protagonist must pass through to find his salvation. The opening scene in the vault sees the ensemble completing robotic, repetitive, tasks to highlight the monotonous soullessness of bank life. If anyone is prone to cracking under such conditions, who could blame them?

Tom Matthews as our anti-hero bank clerk does crazy extremely well. His physical capabilities to do tumbles and flips adds an extra dimension to his character losing the plot. Particularly effective is his EM-PHA-TIC! delivery that makes every word sound like a morsel being chewed, masticated and juiced for every bit of flavour. The other actors follow the same rhythm, giving a narrative that isn’t just quirky, but ironic and dystopian. Lib Campbell who is always extraordinary is once again not afraid to throw herself in the deep end in her roles, including the meek and homely housewife, who is deserted by her husband.

Eugene Lynch's direction, with assistant director Katie Ord and choreography by Cassidy McDermott-Smith creates a magnificent orchestra, with fluidity and purpose in every transition. No glance is hollow, no nod of the head is contrived, everything about every moment is precise, clean and driven.

Adding to the beauty of this production is sound design by Mason Peronchik, the percussiveness and snare drum adding extra EM-PHA-SIS! at the right moments. Costume design, set and props by Benedict Janeczko-Taylor creates the flair and debonair of the era, while lighting by Daniel Story takes us from a bank vault to the red light district and everything in between, illuminating the crude realism of each scenario.

The weirdness of the script might take a little getting used to, but so, so worth it to appreciate this dynamic and very entertaining drama.

From Morning to Midnight is playing at Opera Centre till 22 July. For tickets and showtimes, go to https://events.humanitix.com/from-morning-to-midnight

You can also view the trailer here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4V8fS3sZMSA

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Images: Matthew Miceli 

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (preview performance, Tues 4 July).

The Tough Titties crew have done it again with delivering another ripper of a show. Presented by Queen Hades Productions, Tough Titties is an evening of variety intersectional feminist comedy, offering a safe space to vent, laugh and connect over shared experiences. It’s refreshing to see Sydney’s top comedians and performers coming together to turn the ‘feminist a-gender’ on its head and owning it on their terms.

There are loads of standouts in this jam-packed 90 minute show, all delivered with pathos, scathing wit and minimal profanity, making the humour bite but still accessible to a diverse audience. My personal favourite is ‘Cry-Aerobics’ by Luisa Galloway, offering a cathartic workout that transmutes years of suppressed rage into a physiologically-beneficial expression of blood, sweat and tears (where do I sign up?!). ‘Period Piece’ is literally a period piece about periods…just imagine the girls at Picnic at Hanging Rockbeing lost without a tampon in sight. Speaking of periods, the skit on Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) reminded us that mother nature is a cold heartless b!tch. As is Tina Noheart (parodying Gina Rhineheart) pontificating about ‘helping the poor’, with satire not far from the truth. The hilariously talented, Emma Sullivan, always splendid fun, performed a Chaplinesque ‘juggling act’, a term that oddly tends to apply to women rather than men (and why is that?)

Speaking of men, we saw the return segments of ‘a world without’ them, where women can speak freely without being interrupted and voice their concerns and be validated (hello Utopia!) Renae Valastro gave her version of the SCUM (Society for Cutting Up Men) manifesto declaring what men are ‘not allowed to do’. Her no-no list is not that unreasonable considering what men have been sanctioning against women for years (the right to vote, drive, earn equal pay, be assertive, show authentic emotions etc). I’d have to agree with her point 1,000% that men are not allowed to complain, certainly not when they complain about everything including ‘women complaining’!

More manifesto please. Cannot wait for the next show.

Tough Titties features a rotating roster of talent across the season including: MONICA KUMAR, LAURA LEES, SOPHIE DOUGLAS, EMMA THROSSELL, SOPHEA OP, SAM WALSH, CONSTANCE HALSTEAD, ALMITRA MAVALVALA, LINDA CHONG, FRANKIE FEARCE, ELIVA, LUISA GALLOWAY, EMMA O’SULLIVAN, KRISTELLE ZIBARA, RENAE VALASTRO.

You can read our review of previous Tough Titties shows here.

Tough Titties is on at Meraki Arts Bar Main Stage till July 15th.

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Opening night of It’s a Wonderful Life presented by Joining the Dots Theatre was professionalism at its very finest, with energetic and heartfelt performances fuelled by tension and drama. Due to unforeseen circumstances that prompted the cancellation of the preview show and a cast reshuffling at the 11th hour, director Nicholas Papademetriou felt compelled to apologise in advance for any slip-ups during the show. The show must go on, and hee-haw! it did, to well-deserved rapturous applause. Not only was the show absolutely flawless in every way, but it brought the magic of theatre alive, making the best of a tightrope situation.

The ensemble breathe life into this original adaptation inspired by the Hollywood film, creating believable characters from the Great Depression era, where this story is set. The lead character is George Bailey, a man torn between his appetite for adventure and the economic reality he is entrenched in. Faced with mounting responsibilities, the pressure of running a business, and having his mental health pushed to breaking point, George is the everyday man many of us can identify and empathise with, played by Alex Bryant-Smith with precision, clarity and compelling intensity. Alex had a chat earlier this week with Sydney Theatre Reviews about his acting process which you can listen to here. “George Bailey is the product of an aspirational upbringing, he wants to leave Bedford Falls [where he grew up] and build things, big things like airfields and skyscrappers” says Alex, “but he’s torn between that and the circumstances he finds himself in…he’s up against hard-nosed capitalism and failing the people he loves and cares about…and that plays with his state of mind”.

Alison Chambers, actor, producer and artistic director of Joining the Dots, plays the role of Henrietta Potter, a mean-spirited Scroogian rival to George Bailey’s altruistic nature. Their clash in values is understated but epic, with Chambers manifesting a cat-like malevolence in her performance, ready to pounce on victims in moments of weakness.

Nicholas Papademetriou plays a guardian angel amongst other roles, and it was really lovely to see him channeling on stage (what felt like to me), an aura of ‘Saint Nic’ or ‘Papa Nic’ (especially in light of his pre-emptive speech). He is affectionally known amongst the cast as ‘Nicco’, and this particular role felt very protective and special. (Papademetriou also made me cry in his role as Einstein in Relativity, so I can officially say I’m a huge fan of his work).

The younger Nic, Nicholas Paranomos, is also to be commended for taking on several extra last minute roles to cover the cast reshuffling, delivering flawless off-script performances in every single one. (Interestingly, Paranomos means ‘unpredictable, adorable, confident’, so his namesake definitely checks out).

The remaining cast all have fantastic show credits behind them, with some I have seen in previous productions and many that are new to me, including Mark Barry, Luca Beretta, Ally Laybutt, Eliane Morel and Madeleine Withington. Their performances elevated this production by keeping true to its wholesome values and charm.

The set design is economised and unobtrusive, using a little more than ladders and chairs to allow freedom of imagination and play. Sound design by Alex Lee-Rekers is on point, meshing serendipitously with the organic noise of planes flying overhead (Marrickville is located bang on in the middle of a busy flightpath). Lighting Design by Jasmin Borsovsky combined with theatrical haze gently imparts ambience, mood and divine intervention at key moments. A nice touch is the use of vintage props, including candlestick phones and yellowed newspapers, creating authenticity and realism.

Overall, It’s a Wonderful Life turned out to be wonderful in every way, making its core message come true: no man is a failure in life as long as he has friends. Thank you to one and all for giving the show its wings.

It’s a Wonderful Life is currently playing at Hellenic Theatre in Marrickville till 15 July.
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Image credit: Iain Cox Photography

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2

Biopics are great fun, but daunting. 33 Variations gives us Beethoven, a larger than life subject that is prone to generalisations as an ‘irascible old man burdened by genius’. Fortunately, this production by Castle Hill Players is directed with precision and clarity, eliciting performances that are nuanced, graceful and connected.

Directed by Jennifer Willison and written by Moisés Kaufman, the play revolves around Beethoven’s famous 33 variations of a waltz by Anton Diabelli, a music publisher and composer. In 1819 Diabelli did a callout to significant composers to contribute a variation of his waltz for a new book.

In this fictionalised play, Dr Katherine Brandt, a respected music academic, is conducting fresh research of Beethoven’s variations for her upcoming paper. Methodical and practical by nature, she wants to get the facts exactly right, starting with an intimate biography of Beethoven by Anton Schindler, Beethoven’s secretary, and later, his carer. However, in the process of conducting her research she discovers Schindler’s account isn’t really the source of truth; though written with first hand intimacy, it’s sloppy with the finer details, embellishing Beethoven’s creative process for dramatic effect. Schindler claims Beethoven hated the waltz and labelled it as ‘Schusterfleck’ (which, to my ears, sounded like ‘clusterfuck’ but actually means ‘cobbler’s patch’ i.e. ‘common’). Schindler also claims the number of variations was Beethoven’s way of mocking Diabelli, to laugh in his face the way Mozart does in Amadeus when he improvises on Salieri’s stodgy welcome march. But Katherine’s painstaking research discovers something else; Beethoven wasn’t motivated by spite or competitive ego, but an obsessive fascination to find the potential beauty of the waltz, to make something elegant and worthy out of a grain of sand.

With that grain of sand metaphor comes another one; time is running out for Katherine. She’s been diagnosed with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), a motor neurone disease, just as she’s planning to travel to Bonn in Germany to immerse herself in months of research. Clara, her daughter, doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her mother to go travelling, and tries to talk her out of it, but it’s no use. Katherine has a hard time connecting with Clara; she’s not silent about dismissing her daughter as a mediocrity, a massive disappointment for failing to stick to things. Katherine can only give the kind of cold love that leaves many daughters resentful of their mothers. The play navigates this conflict, juxtaposing the tumultuous Beethoven-Schindler narrative with the fractured mother-daughter relationship.

Directing a play with these complexities takes enormous skill and trust to find the rhythm, a rhythm that will connect the characters to the audience and each other. End of Act 1 brings a chorus of overlapping dialogue as each pairing of characters implores their partner to hear their point of view. The crescendo is very effective, with some slight ‘moments of trepidation’ as noted in Beethoven’s sketches, a sort of ‘ooops sorry’ reflex rather than speaking the full line with conviction and in unison. After a bumpy road of rehearsals which has affected all theatre companies since Covid, there’s no doubt this sequence will be solidified in upcoming performances.

In individual roles, the cast deliver tear-jerking performances, working faithfully to a sharp script full of biting humour. Michelle Masefield as Dr Katherine Brandt is authoritative, objective, always rational and stubbornly pigheaded, with no appetite for the porcine-knuckled delicacy that is offered to her. She plays well against the austere German librarian Gertie (Faith Jessel), an expensively dressed woman in heels who wears her hair like a blonde helmet. They size each other up and quickly get down to business of analysing Beethoven’s sketches with forensic precision, forming a bond from which a new friendship blossoms.

Steve Rowe as Beethoven is more than just ‘an irascible old man burdened by genius’, delivering his performance with formidable relish tempered by a maddening ache to push mediocrity away and find the highest expression of virtue. He could easily (and does) work on other things more worthy of his time, but the waltz has him obsessed with the artistic challenge of making something out of nothing. It’s like being addicted to word puzzles, seeing how many interesting words you can make from a jumble of letters. His obsessive intellect parallels beautifully with Dr Brandt’s obstinate need to fill her life with objective meaning, to reach a deeper and unique appreciation of his music. Centuries apart from her favourite dead-man crush, she finds more solace in the composer than she does in her own family.

Robert Snars as the immaculately handsome Schindler is energetic and versatile, an allegro to Beethoven’s impudent slowness in finishing the work. If Beethoven is a force to be reckoned with, throwing temper tantrums like a man-child, Schindler is the buffer, a valve to stop the pressure of deadlines and responsibilities from exploding out of control. Todd Beilby as the oafish Diabelli with a stake in music publishing is also very engaging, ping-ponging his will against Beethoven and Schindler’s temporising temperaments.

In the contemporary roles, Tia Cullen as Clara is more detached with a distracted look that never fully settles on one spot. There’s more internal monologue going on in her character. The subtext is avoidance. The energy significantly shifts in the final scene, becoming more present and self-realised, which is really lovely to see. Jen Rowe is sweet natured as Mike, Clara’s boyfriend and Katherine’s nurse. He plays his ‘heart of gold’ role with a steady, reliable tempo that gains bi-partisan trust in the mother-daughter relationship, and ultimately brings them closer together to find healing.

The extras cast includes Anthea Brown and Chiara Arita in various roles, such as the flight attendant and medical staff, drawing laughs with mere one-liners (“if you have been reading a book on Beethoven during this flight / put it away and snap out of it!”).

It goes without saying that sound is a very important element in this production. The sharp tinnitus ringing that plagues Beethoven’s hearing is keenly felt by the audience. Mercifully, it’s very brief. A live piano, as played by Andrew Beban, gives euphonic sound cues to the variations being studied by Katherine. Additional sound effects such as an x-ray machine or rapturous applause gives the characters something to react to; the pain on Katherine’s face in particular, as she is being examined by a machine as if she were a sketch, is heartbreaking.

With multiple time periods to contend with, the set design by Maureen Cartledge is one of the best I’ve seen in a long time, with a pleasing geometric effect that visually looks like it’s been divided into 33 1/3 (though I have it on good authority this is not intentional!). The use of real estate is done well with an expert eye to create balance and harmony, with no space wasted and no waffly transitions. There is fluidity in the cross-over action required to bring the two narratives together. Particularly effective is the projection screen in the back corner of stage left which shows the city of Bonn, the sketches and the x-rays, giving the audience a visual reference as the characters describe them.

The costumes by Anthea Brown are splendid, with colourful choices and contrast when the characters find their moment of “transfiguration” as described in the play. I particularly liked Gertie’s outfits with its very Euro-chic vibe and bold choice of a hot pink blazer in one particular scene. Clara’s change of dress also stood out, from a casual look in sneakers to lovely evening wear in heels, making the most of her wonderful stature. The time-period outfits worn by the gents is also done with immaculate attention to detail, taking us back to the 1820s.

One final shoutout goes to the medical research behind this play, with Jonathan and Sharon Huynh credited as medical consultants. There are a lot of sensitive moments in this play that portray the degenerative effects of ALS and other debilitating conditions, and it is done with the highest amount of respect and dignity. The cast who took on these portrayals both as patients / caregivers are to be commended for their thorough preparation and commitment.

Overall, 33 Variations offers both intellectually and emotionally satisfying theatre, and it is an enormous privilege to witness a play with the highest calibre of world-class production values, right on the very doorstep of Castle Hill.

33 Variations by Castle Hill Players is on at The Pavilion Theatre till 24 June 2023.

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Image credit: Chris Lundie

Little Women the Musical directed and produced by Olivia Ruggiero (Olivia Ruggiero Productions) is full of proud momma moments. Every bit of this classic story about love, family and following your dreams is told from the heart.

Little Women’s author, Louisa May Alcott, based the story on her own life, writing about her upbringing and coming-of-age as a young woman full of ideas and dreams of big thing to come. The book became a bestseller around the world, remaining consistently popular after its first publication in 1868. The story centres on four March sisters – Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy – finding their identity and place in the world within a family experiencing hardships and separation during the war. As sisters they are close, but very different from one another. Meg (played by Phoebe Fuary) is romantic, Jo (Alana De Gois) is passionate and ambitious to become a famous author, Beth (Tiarna Phipps) is shy and very humble, and Amy (Ruby Strohmayer) yearns for the finer things in life like going to parties to mingle with rich people. Little Women offers a commentary on all these things, but most of all, it is a story about dreamers.

This youth production is simply gorgeous from start to finish with very convincing performances by young children in grown-up roles, particularly Addison Melville as Aunt March, Rewhenua Tattersall as Professor Bhaer and Madison De Gois (Alana’s younger sister) as Marmee, the matriarch of the family. I couldn’t imagine how a younger sister would play the mother to her older sister, but it was very effective and felt ‘real’. Jeremy Russell as John Brooke, James Fuary as Mr Laurence and Seamus Fuary as Laurie also shine in their roles. It is down to the cast’s talent, enthusiasm and maturity, shaped by Olivia Ruggiero, that makes this show a success. Olivia is a well versed Little Women aficionado, having played the role of Jo in her hometown of Bathurst. She told Sydney Theatre Reviews in our podcast: “I think the really awesome thing about this particular cast, is they’ve brought their experience to it, their age, but also, they’ve brought this incredible modernity. Because they are this generation. So Little Women is a story that absolutely has transcended ages, and this new production we have fostered will speak to a younger audience too.”

Alana De Gois who plays Jo also added: “Jo is trying to tell the world that’s she’s not just one thing, she wants to be everything. She says “I may be small, but I’ve got giant plans to shine as brightly as the sun.” She wants to live her big dreams and pursue her passion that she wants for her life. And she says she can feel it, but it’s far from her and she has to find it on her own, so she has to take that journey in her life to pursue her dreams and gain her passion.”

As a musical production, the songs give the story tonality and emotion that isn’t necessarily accessible in a straight play. In the book, Jo’s famous line is:

“Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they’ve got ambition, and they’ve got talent, as well as just beauty. I’m so sick of people saying that love is just all a woman is fit for.“

Her songs bring out all the shades of her fiery, non-conformist personality that speaks to a yearning and a hunger for a meaningful life beyond domesticated bliss, particularly when we see her imaginary characters in the aisles performing a thrilling swashbuckling scene. The audience becomes immersed in this fantasy and can ‘see’ what Jo sees in her wonderful imagination.

Another touching, quieter moment is when Jo and Beth are on the shore, playing with kite. Beth is very weak and close to death after contracting scarlet fever. This precious moment with Jo is what little she has left before her time passes on. The song “Some Things Are Meant To Be” is a tender, heartbreaking moment that conveys the sorrow creeping over them.

The steady piano accompaniment by Matthew Dobell-Brown complemented the scenes perfectly, while the introduction of props and transition between scenes was handled seamlessly, with the sitting room acting as the main “heart” of the action.

The costumes by Naomi Russell, Natalie Khoury and Fiona Wardrop are done with painstaking hours of love and care, including sourcing and making alterations to the costumes for several characters and scene changes. The time period is kept faithful to the book while contrasting the dowdiness of the March sisters with their wealthy neighbours and relatives. When the sisters finally have a chance to dress up and go to a ball, the gowns are vibrant and pop with beautiful, shimmering colours, giving that sense of joy when a child is transformed into a beautiful prince or princess. The scene is topped with a wonderful line from Meg: “I went to the party as a child….and came back as a woman!“

With sparkling dialogue, heartfelt tunes and a wonderful rapport between the cast and crew, Little Woman the Musical was a huge hit with the crowd, and a show not to be missed for the world.

Little Women the Musical is playing at Fairfield School of Arts till 4 June 2023. For tickets and showtimes go to https://events.humanitix.com/little-women-the-musical

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Image credit: Grant Wiggins and Jaimie-Lee Kliendiest

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Genesian Theatre never fails to come up with the goods, and this time they’ve done it again with a slapstick interpretation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles featuring – gasp! – a woman in the role of Sherlock Holmes and gasp! – another woman as Doctor Watson. While gender-bended casting has been around for quite some time (since Elizabethan times, in fact), it may feel like a departure for Genesian theatre-goers that love to see a traditional interpretation of the classics. However, the audience on opening night got totally behind the casting choices for this one and were in for a fantastic ride.

First, a note about the plot – this is perhaps the most supernatural story out of the entire Sherlock Holmes series, with more red herrings than John West can can. Holmes is notably absent for most of the story, delegating the detective work to Watson of why a generation of privileged white men are suddenly dying at the estate of the Baskervilles. It is suspected that the spirit of a grisly hound which hunted down and killed the first Baskerville is out to haunt them. But why? And how?

This adaptation by Steven Canny and John Nicholson pokes fun at the stuffiness of quaint storytelling, proverbially sticking a brolly up the backside of traditional gender roles as depicted in the book (i.e. the men are rational and brave, while the women are weepy, compliant and valorised for their beauty).

Act 1 had the audiences in stitches, with hilarious meta-storytelling to guide the audience along through the dense marshes of Doyle’s landscape. There are deliberate false starts, and plenty of madcap antics to feel fully engaged in a story that doesn’t always quite make sense. Doyle created a plethora of characters in a convoluted mix of subplots; there’s a murderous convict on the loose, and a butterfly catcher called Stapleton who isn’t really Stapleton, and his sister who isn’t really his sister…and on it goes. The choice to omit the subplot involving Mrs Laura Lyons is a wise one; she’s another ‘beautiful woman’ forced to be secretive about her involvement in the death of Sir Charles Baskerville, who is found dead in the garden at a strange hour in the morning.

If Act 1 was supremely masterful that you simply couldn’t ask for more, Act 2 seemed to get a little caught up in its own antics. There’s something about an interval between Act 1 and Act 2 that satiates the audience, thus increasing the appetite for a riveting finish. Act 2 started off with a complete recap of Act 1, because ‘someone out there tweeted that they didn’t like the show’; (don’t worry, it’s all part of the meta-script). The fast-forward re-enactment was quite good, as was the courtship dance between Henry Baskerville and Miss Stapleton. But aside from these outstanding moments, the objective of the characters seemed a bit lost. It’s like showing all the cards too soon, leaving no new material left to play with.

In Act 2, it might have been a bit stronger to give the characters their original objectives to work with, facing a real sense of danger, to fight for their lives, by somehow bringing the monstrosity of the hound to life, which is the climax in the book. There are a few curdling howling and growling sound effects signifying the hound, but a few gunshots towards it, and it’s…gone. Making the hound standout for all the supernatural horror that it is, that left poor Henry Baskerville with a weakened heart, would have made for a more thrilling finish.

Feedback aside, this almost-perfect production makes incredible use of three actors playing the vast array of roles, with a heightened degree of finesse and irreverence. Alyona Popova captialises on her inner serious clown by playing a Russian actor / cockney English folk / Sherlock Holmes with rebellious ‘up-yours’ authority. When she gutturally demands “we’re going to do Act 1 – AGAIN!!” you better believe her.

Kate Easlea is equally fun as the androgynous Doctor Watson, dressed in a long black power suit and bowler hat. Her narrative as Watson perfectly aligns with the book, writing in her journal, navigating the dangerous detective work she’s undertaken, and feeling hurt when Holmes finally reappears and doesn’t seem to care for her copious letters full of discoveries. She wants Holmes to be proud of her. If Popova is the serious clown as Holmes, then Watson as played by Easlea is like a Labrador: loyal, intelligent but goofy, beaming when praise is given and oh-so adorable.

Oliver Harcourt-Ham turns in a brave performance in multi-roles including the often hapless, trouser-less and shirtless Henry Baskerville, the heir to the estate and next in line for a Baskerville murder. He confesses out loud he “can’t do a Canadian accent” as per Henry’s nationality in the book, but boy can he run across that stage with an extraordinary amount of energy without being out of breath. His naive, vulnerable and sweetly awkward performance was well received by the crowd.

Duncan Cole as stage manager did a great job shoving huge props across the stage without killing anyone, and along with set construction by Tom Fahy, Paul Gilbert and Peter Curtis, created a magical environment for the actors to work in, seamlessly transitioning from night / day and interiors / exteriors. The fog was a fantastic atmospheric special effect, and the foyer artwork by Emily Saint Smith was also a nice touch (‘parachute for sale…only used once, never opened’).

Lighting and sound by Michael Schell added ambience and colour to the dull and dreary environment described in the book. The intensity of vibrant purple hues gave a rich, supernatural vibe to the cold Baskerville setting.

Costuming by Susan Carveth created fun outfits for the characters while making it easy to distinguish who’s who. It must have been no mean feat to change costumes several times when switching between characters, but this production was fully committed to that choice and it worked beautifully. Miss Stapleton became mysterious, Master Stapleton became malevolent and Sherlock Holmes became magnificent.

Finally, Richard Cotter as director gave a tremendous gift to his audience, a box full of surprises with lots of pranks and practical jokes that allowed the actors to engage and play. It’s always a treasure to see his work on stage and watch the actors embodying his vision.

Overall, this colourful production with bold casting choices and direction made this interpretation of Sherlock Holmes incredibly fun to watch, and more relevant, accessible and loveable than ever.

The Hound of the Baskervilles is playing at Genesian Theatre until 17 June 2023.

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Image credit: Monique Lopez

I must admit when I first read about the murder case of The Pyjama Girl, the whole idea of creating a musical about it seemed a little…questionable. The title sounds sweetly innocent but the facts are not: in 1934 a young woman was found brutally murdered on the side of the road in Albury, New South Wales, wearing luxurious silk pyjamas with a Chinese dragon motif. She was instantly dubbed “The Pyjama Girl” by the press, causing a huge sensation in the public’s imagination, hungry for excitement during the Depression. Her body was preserved and put on public display in a formaldehyde bath at Sydney University, so that witnesses could come forward and identify the victim, but it also attracted fetish curiosity and voyeurism. This went on for a decade before her body was finally laid to rest.

The Pyjama Girl written by Stephen Goldrick and Steve Wood critiques the “insane indignity” surrounding the case, using vaudeville musical drama and murder ballads to recreate the morbid fascination with one of history’s most gruesome and compelling mysteries.

This well-researched and highly creative production co-directed by Goldrick and Alex Cuff delivers a story with a heart. It explores the story of Linda Agostini née Platt, an English Australian woman who worked in a candy store and at the cinema before marrying Tony Agostini, an Italian immigrant with dubious political connections. Tony confessed to murdering his wife and that she was the infamous Pyjama Girl. His murder charge was reduced to manslaughter, and he was freed after serving just three years of a six-year sentence.

However, whether the Albury victim was indeed the body of Linda Agostini remains equivocal to this day, with several inconsistencies in the anatomy of both victims. No matter that there were 124 other missing female victims on the list who were never thoroughly investigated, the public had its answer, and the case was closed.

The musical examines this colossal miscarriage of justice and gives a voice to the Pyjama Girl to ask “who am I?” Singing soprano, she flits about from character to character, including the priest who seems weirdly infatuated with her, to the lazy cop with his eye on retirement, to the shady husband who twists facts to suit a narrative that will set him free. The Pyjama Girl unravels the conspiracy one heart-stopping ballad at a time to bring them all to justice, creating an extraordinary arc from victim to heroine.

Presented by Players in Exile, the cast includes Blake Kovak as Tony Agostini, Stephen Goldrick as Commissioner Mackay, Babette Shaw as reporter Moya Stanley, Matthew Yuen as Father Francis Gee, Jessica Petersen Scott as The Assistant, and Julia Pierrette as an eerie doppelgänger as the Pyjama Girl. With euphonious tunes composed by musical director Steve Wood, aesthetic stage design by Asha Gold and fluid choreography by Scott, the power of this crowd-pleasing musical raises the spirits of the dead and sings what cannot be said.

When a situation has no good outcome, it could be referred to as short blanket dilemma, meaning neither solution is ideal, as the blanket is too short to cover the whole body, leaving either the head or feet exposed. Filipinos have a proverb for it: When the blanket is short, learn how to bend meaning when there’s a compromise, learn how to adapt to it. Inspired by the proverb, Short Blanket by emerging Asian-Australian playwright Matt Bostock champions artistic integrity in a world governed by consumerism and media outlets that feed the public with stories they want to hear, not necessarily with what is truthful.

The situation revolves around emerging playwright Lainey (Andrea Magpulong), a Filipinx-Australian woman who is given a chance to share her story on the main stage. Her play is about racial abuse, drawing on her own experience of being subjected to it. But the powers that be deem it ‘too heavy’ for a mainstream audience that doesn’t want to be reminded of white guilt and white prejudices. Instead, they want ‘humour’ and ‘humanity’ to make it ‘more engaging’. Lainey is warned that if she can’t come up the goods, her job is replaceable. Conflicted with writing from the heart vs writing for the masses (‘the people that actually buy tickets’), Lainey is struggling to find a way to keep her integrity, her self-respect and her job intact.

Produced by Slanted Theatre, this creative realisation of Bostock’s unique storytelling is brilliant, and relatable. While its heavy exposition would normally risk being superfluous, here it works perfectly to bring out the points of view of the main characters. Delivered with punch and fierce intensity, the result is intellectually stimulating, sincere and powerful. As each situation unfolded, I found myself thinking, ‘me too!’ It was not that long ago, for example, that I was told by a HR Department that I didn’t fit into their ‘white bread culture’.

The play’s concept is on par with Frontline, the acclaimed satirical show about the world of TV journalism that explores such outrageous candour, often expressed by TV executives that sugar-coat their snarky racism and misogyny under the pretext of utilitarianism i.e. good ratings = job security. If good ratings means stirring the pot by perpetuating stereotypes about minority groups while making audiences feel comfortable about their white privilege, so be it!!!

Bostock uses a similar meta-device, a play-within-a-play, where two principal actors, Joey (Joseph Tanti) and Dominique (Dominique Purdue) are rehearsing various scenes of racial confrontation between a woman of Filipino origin and a white male. Each scenario is different, ranging from a casual fling to a creative space to a war zone, but always making a statement about prejudice and power between people of different backgrounds and status.

Helping them to unpack their thoughts and shape the production is Camille (Sayuri Narroway) as the director, who is also urging Lainey to rewrite scenes to appease the show’s artistic director Gloria (Monica Russell). Gloria is the driving force behind the kind of diversity she feels audiences will want to see, such as Queer Death of A Salesman. Diversity in her world only has its place if it’s fun and cute and ‘non-threatening’.

The coterie of actors have a blast bringing authentic performances to the stage, including ‘non-consensual acting choices’ as mentioned in the program notes. Fortunately, no seemed to get physically hurt, but there is a lot of raw energy in the dynamic between Joey and Dominique; it jolts like electricity, taking you to the extreme edge of racial violence, and snaps you back to safety, as they cut and reset for the next scene.

With a brave ensemble cast, bold direction under Tiffany Wong and wonderfully ‘dense and weird’ script as described by Matt Bostock, Short Blanket is an inclusive, cathartic and thought-provoking production that ticks all the boxes for a fantastic night at the theatre.

Short Blanket presented by Slanted Theatre is playing at Meraki Arts Bar until 3 June 2023. For tickets and showtimes go to https://slantedtheatre.com/short-blanket/

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Image credit: Phil Erbacher

Albert Einstein is a fascinating subject for films and theatre, judging by numerous plays and movies inspired by him, including Young Einstein, Picasso at the Lapin Agile and I.Q. to name a few. There’s no denying the man was a genius, hailed as one of the greatest scientific minds of all time whilst advocating the importance of retaining a childlike imagination.

Mark St. Germain’s play, Relativity, eschews all that, and digs a little deeper to find out about the other side of Einstein we rarely hear about; the side that scholars and biographers know existed but isn’t celebrated as part of his grandeur legacy. For all his scientific achievements and discoveries, for all his commendable humanitarian ideals, it seems that Einstein wasn’t exactly a symbol of salubrious masculinity. He was a ladies man. He neglected his family to focus on his career. He made unreasonable demands of his wives. He didn’t particularly like his wives. He was brusque and forceful with disciplining young children. The list goes on. Whilst these may be regarded as minor transgressions in the grander scheme of Einstein’s illustrious life, when placed in the context of what it was like to have him as a father…the answer is mootably different. The play pointedly asks the question: “To be a great man, does one first need to be a good man?”

Relativity makes use of three principal characters in a fictionalised context to examine this question, namely, Einstein, his secretary / housekeeper, and his long lost daughter Lieserl, who visits Einstein on the pretext of interviewing him for The Jewish Daily. At first, Einstein is cajoled into granting her an interview, smitten by the pretty young woman who says her name is Margaret and this is her “first assignment”. But when the questions turn from an interview into an interrogation about his family history and what happened to his baby daughter, Einstein shuts it down and asks her to leave. She almost does….until he realises the young woman is actually his own daughter, whom he abandoned when she was a baby.

The reasons seem valid but hurtful; she had scarlet fever, he didn’t know if she would survive, her mother at the time was unmarried (but ended up marrying Einstein anyway and having more children), he was just starting out in his career…the excuses pile on until the questions become more and more provocative, yielding Einstein to give away his most secret machinations of his mind. “Family is tar on my shoes!” he declares, stating that women and children are inhibitors to giving him the space and freedom he needs “to think”. Lieserl is unconvinced and inconsolable, pressing him with more philosophical questions about whether he would consider his behaviour forgivable. “Do you still listen to Wagner?” Lieserl asks, in reference to the composer’s association with the Nazis, to which Einstein, a Jew, ruefully answers “No”.

Directed by Johann Walraven, this production by Joining The Dots Theatre at Riverside Theatres in Parramatta is flawless in every way, with three excellent cast members in the lead roles. Nicholas Papademetriou as Einstein is perfect aesthetically and psychologically, switching between the avuncular, wise persona we often associate with Einstein and his more irascible, selfish side that loves knowledge for knowledge’s sake above everything else. He drew gasps from the audience for saying incredibly unkind things to his daughter, accusing her of being “so ordinary”, but also drew tears as he waited with her at the platform for the train to take her away from his life again. He never says “I love you” or “I’m sorry”, but the subtext is strongly felt and deeply moving.

Nisrine Amine as Margaret / Lieserl makes an impact measure for measure to Einstein’s intellect, easily dismissing his theories as if they were a row of dominos. What good are famous theories when his own children despise him? Their back and forth debate is dynamic and confronting as she shrewdly asserts Einstein’s failings as a father and human being. There are lively moments of respite when they demonstrate the theory of relativity, throwing cups and saucers around much to the chagrin of the housekeeper. Her description of her son, Abe, is very touching and authentic; he has also been gifted with genius, yet is unable to move beyond his own internal world to the real one outside. “I don’t want that for him” she declares.
It’s a stellar performance for a motherly role that is often regulated to being more passive and secondary to the story. Here, this is literally HERstory and it is Einstein who must answer to her.

Alison Chambers as the formidable housekeeper / secretary is also a strong female character, never settling for a Fräulein typecast, but demonstrating why she is proud to be the only woman who “really understands” Einstein’s personality, and prouder to staunchly guard his privacy from outside intrusion. Her matronly performance was believable and uncompromising, with hilarious one-liners delivered in a matter-of-fact way: “mayonnaise can curdle” she rebuts to Einstein’s confusion about why needs to eat a salad cold. Like Einstein, she has an aversion to overt expressions of warmth and tenderness, but does it in her own way by changing the sheets and serving tea, out of respect for his need for orderly discipline to focus on his work. It is a commendable performance, and credit to the playwright for giving us a meaningful expression of her love, however flawed it may be.

The stagecraft is absolutely beautiful, with autumn leaves and snowy foam strewn about the stage denoting the chilly exterior, and shifts in lighting taking us to the interior of Einstein’s private study, where portraits of other famous icons are hung and E = mc2 is chalked into patches along the wall. An antique chaise lounge offsets the colour scheme and draws the eye to its gorgeous wine-coloured plush, while across the stage Einstein’s desk is littered with study notes and a dippy bird. Behind it, on the wall, a violin is mounted, signifying the spool of Einstein’s attention from the sophisticated to the repetitive. Again, it is to the playwright’s and production’s credit for not merely throwing these things in as random decorations, but actually referring to each and every object in the room, so that the environment becomes as familiar to the audience as it is to the characters.

Overall, Relativity is a must-see production that will elicit laughter and tears, providing a thoughtful reflection on one of history’s greatest minds.

Relativity is playing at Riverside Theatres in Parramatta till 13 May 2023. For tickets and showtimes go to https://riversideparramatta.com.au/show/relativity/
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Images: Iain Cox

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (reviewed Friday 5 May, 2023)

If Edith Piaf is affectionally remembered as ‘the little sparrow’, then Emma Hamilton’s sobriquet would be ‘the mighty currawong’ owing to her powerful and unique voice that is as rich and resonant as our native songbird. An Evening in Paris at Cremorne Orpheum offered a magical night of music and songs covering the soundtrack of her French-Aussie heritage along with her trademark je ne sais quoi.

Hamilton, dressed in a peplum-layered ankle-length maroon gown accessorised with a sparkly headband and red accordion was backed by an oxytocin-injecting 7-piece band featuring her brother Thomas on piano. The set list for the night covered a range of styles and genres that entertained a large auditorium of avid listeners keen to reminisce about the “good old days” which Cremorne Orpheum is known for. Hamilton oozed old-school charm fused with Parisian sophistication as she powered through her set list on the night, opening with the upbeat Iko Iko and finishing with a passionately emphatic encore of Edith Piaf’s No Regrets.

Along with Non, je ne regrette rien, Hamilton channelled Piaf’s enduring legacy in La vie en rose and Hymne a l’amour in a tour-de-force of musical classics, including Can’t help falling in love with you made famous by Elvis Presley, the country-twang of Jambalaya by Hank Williams, and haunting La mer by Charles Trenet and Albert Lasry. Every song was a hit and showcased Hamilton’s impressive vocal range and accordion-tastic skills. 

Paranoid, an original composition by Emma and Thomas Hamilton was a quirky crowd pleaser, along with the catchy Gypsy Song / Je pense à toi also composed by the duo. In the instrumental segments, the swinging big-band jazz sound of Caravan by Duke Ellington was one of many personal favourites.

Mr Hamilton Senior aka Ross Hamilton made a special guest appearance as Emma fondly recalled their days as a family touring group while she was still at school. Touring and performing is clearly in her blood, as well as her love of all things French. An Evening in Paris wasn’t just a throwback to Parisian culture from a spectacularly iconic era, but an absolute gift to revel in the moment of youth, vitality, optimism and romance.

An Evening in Paris starring Emma Hamilton played at Cremorne Orpheum on Friday 5 May 2023. To find out more about her work, go to https://emmahamilton.com/

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Full set list on the night:

Iko Iko – James Crawford , Rosa Les Hawkins, Barbara Anne Hawkins

La mer – Charles Trenet, Albert Lasry 

Les feuilles mortes (autumn leaves) – Johnny Mercer, Jacques Prévert

For me formidable – Charles Aznavour

Champs Élysées – Mike Wilsh, Pierre Delanoë 

Gypsy Song / Je pense à toi – Emma Hamilton/Thomas Hamilton

Paranoid – Emma Hamilton/Thomas Hamilton

Can’t help falling in love with you – Hugo Peretti, Luigi Creatore and George David Weiss

Plaisir d’amour – Jean Paul Edige Martini

La vie en rose – Edith Piaf, Marguerite Monnot

Caravan – Duke Ellington

I can’t stop loving you – Don Gibson 

Under Paris Skies – Hubert Giraud 

Hymne a l’amour – Edith Piaf Marguerite Monnot

Danny boy medley – Traditional

Two sleepy people – Harold Arland 

Jolie Bonde- Traditional

Jambalaya – Hank Williams

No Regrets – Edith Piaf
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Image credit: Emily Palethorpe

Verdict: 🏠🏠🏠🏠🏠

Stories with circular plot twists have a nice satisfying quality to it, like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel (to borrow the phrase from Dusty Springfield), or, in this case, like a piping hot pizza delivered fresh from Eagle Boys faster than any Amazon promise. The setting is in the cut throat world of real estate, where Nick (Nick Harriott) isn’t just working his little heart out to earn a comfortable living, but also, his dad’s respect, and ultimately, his elusive love. Tom (Tom Waddell) is the pizza delivery boy, whose bespectacled nerdy genius for cracking algorithms to sell any house to anyone lands him a job as an intern at the real estate agency. Beneath that humble and unassuming exterior there is a sinister seductive charm; behind those beady little eyes lies a thirsty appetite to make a killing in the real estate trade in more ways than one; Tom goes on to appropriate every aspect of Nick’s life – including his job, his clothes and his family, while making Nick feel like it’s his own fault for losing his identity for being a mediocre salesman.

If the plot sounds like it has echoes of The Talented Mr Ripley, it does, but the deliberate soap-opera acting and deadpan delivery keeps the chuckles going like fine wine at a wedding party.

The venue (Enmore Loft at Enmore Theatre) is befuddlingly too small when first entering the room, with all seats except the front row offering an obscured view of the stage. But this is Sydney after all, where even a shoebox should feel like a palace. And miraculously, it does; when the actors appear on a stage every patron gets a perfect view. The power of whimsy and imagination takes over as they reenact the setting at an office with a backroom full of cool prizes for meeting quarterly sales targets, including a spangly new karaoke machine. They give it a whirl, treating the audience to a rendition of the catchy Brother, Brother. The scene bridges the gap between the absurd and even absurder as Nick is edged out of the frame of his own life, de-jacketed and disowned by his own father, naked, ashamed and usurped by Tom, who now assumes the role of the real estate agent and proudly adopted son by Nick’s dad.

Floundering with flagellating self-doubt, Nick obsessively watches videos of his kung fu training videos, analysing all of his weaknesses. Tom, ever shrewd and quietly manipulative, secretly watches them too. He uses every opportunity to unbalance Nick and gaslight him into passive resignation, innocuously slipping himself into Nick’s life as easily as a bit of rogue anchovy on a pizza that you didn’t ask for, but you kind of like the taste of, until it turns out in the end to be quite salty and unpalatable. Humiliated and defeated, left with virtually nothing, Nick is on the verge of suicide, but finds the courage to become a pizza delivery boy himself. It is while cohabiting with eagles at the Eagle Boys’ joint that he finds his calling to become a hippie kung-fu Jesus with all the spiritual hotness of Ted Neely.

Tom is still selling houses as easily as if they were on the monopoly board, but 10 years on the game doesn’t feel quite as fun. There’s a lingering emptiness when he’s already sold every house in Hurstville twice.

As this offbeat charming comedy of a modern day Aesop’s fable draws to a close, the laughs are still aplenty and the moral is clear: you can become a shark and make a killing, but it’s much more thrilling to become an eagle and soar.

Nick & Tom played at Enmore Theatre Loft till 30 April 2023. For more info on the actors’ work, go to the following links:

Nick Harriott on Instagram
Tom Waddell on Instagram
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Images: Lily Craig

A night out at the theatre just got a whole lot sweeter with two fabulous productions for the price of one. Emceed by fellow collaborator Benjamin Webb, Country Banana at 107 Redfern is the umbrella title for two separate performances that gives the audience plenty of laughter and tears.

First up, Country Chic starring Jared Gerschwitz is an entertaining cabaret show about his journey from a small farming town in South Australia to the big time in the UK as an out-and-proud bisexual performer, but the yellow-brick-road of success hasn’t always been so easy to follow. As a callow youth feeling out of place in a homogenous environment to his glittering experimental heydays in London, to the ongoing face-palm prejudice and pigeonholing about what it means to be bisexual, Gerschwitz gives the audience a very blue account of his professional and not-so-professional experiences that matches his blue attire from head to toe, including blue eye-shadow, blue nail varnish, blue flannel shirt and blue suede shoes. It isn’t long before he swaps his flannel shirt for sparkles and footwear to stunning 8-inch red pumps which he proudly struts around in to prove he can do it “without that awkward crab walk” that women often struggle with when wearing heels.

Accompanied by consummate pianist Emma Knights, Gerschwitz had the audience hooked with melt-in-your-ears mellifluous bass baritone tunes, so much so that I couldn’t help but be carried away by a bit of casting inspiration. “Have you ever been asked to play Elton John?” I asked tentatively after the show, hoping my question didn’t come across as ignorant after his scathing attack on how many banal and intrusive questions he gets asked about his identity. Gerschwitz graciously deigned to give a thoughtful and charming reply before excusing himself to accept flowers and praise from his waiting fans. He certainly has the charisma and stage presence to portray an icon like Sir Elton John, IMHO. Or John Lennon. Or John Farnham. Or any of the famous Johns, really. He has the voice of understanding, and all that showbiz pizzazz.

Whatever lies in store for his next adventure, casting directors take note – there’s an extraordinary amount of talent in the queer community and Gerschwitz is one to keep tabs on. That boy’s going places.

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The second performance of the evening, Banana Crabtree Simon, is a one-man play by British snooker commentator David Hendon. Starring Gavin Maxfield as Alan, this emotionally painful and realistic play about early onset dementia has won numerous accolades for dealing with a delicate subject matter that most of us would prefer to avoid.

It all starts innocuously enough; Alan can’t quite remember which light switch is for the hall and for the main landing. It’s like not knowing where you put your car keys, or momentarily forgetting someone’s name. But Alan’s family isn’t letting it go; they are concerned perhaps a touch too cloyingly that at age 50 he is “becoming forgetful”. Alan’s rising panic at each misstep while being watched, judged, evaluated and assessed feels more and more distressing, while his mind slowly turns to the possibility that there could be something wrong with him.

Directed by Dan Phillips, Maxfield’s performance as Alan is absolutely pitch perfect and sincere; there’s not a note out of place or a moment that doesn’t ring true. We watch the flickering gamut of expressions from frustration, joy, tenderness and sadness as he recalls the memories of his past with varying degrees of emotional weight. His pained trauma of losing his sister, Annie, is evident in the words and heavy silences while he digs his long sturdy fingers in the plush of his chair, gripping it for some release of the tension within.

Accentuating the tension is the sound of the executioner’s drum; Alan is a prisoner, alone and wedged deep into the sofa with only his thoughts and confusing mixture of memories to give him any sense of identity.

Banana Crabtree Simon may seem like a nonsensical jumble of words, but they are references to things Alan must desperately cling to, to prove he isn’t going senile. Alas, as the gradual signs of cognitive decline become all too evident, his mind severed from any sense of reality reverts to the one childhood memory that still shines a light in his soul; the day of his sister’s wake when his father took him to the park to see the sunset over the town, and told him to never forget that he could be anything he wanted to be.

Country Banana is playing at 107 Redfern till 22 April 2023. For tickets and showtimes go to https://107.org.au/event/country-banana-2-in-1-showcase/

Images supplied by Gavin Maxfield

Joan of Arc existed in a time of great danger and superstition, in an era of war and witch hunts. Women’s place in the world was very traditional and limited. Janie Gibson’s one woman show Voices of Joan explores the trial of Joan in a minefield of misogynistic beliefs that have persisted to the present day.

St Joan was a 17-year old peasant girl from France who bravely led army forces against English invasion under the influence of divine inspiration. She was tried and burned alive at the stake by her enemies for crimes of heresy, sedition and witchcraft. Her extraordinary achievement and barbaric death might not mean much in today’s secular society that is a bit iffy about God, but beneath the surface of another history lesson, it’s undeniable that the patriarchy Joan was up against still exists. Whether it’s vitriol and abuse perpetrated by media, political figures etc, through to oppression and violence against women both home and abroad, the echoes of the past are still reverberating today, and cannot be ignored.

“Once a word is spoken, its sound exists forever.”

– Janie Gibson, Voices of Joan

Gibson’s punked up version of the passion of St Joan is an electric, ground-breaking production that feels inspired by Jesus Christ Superstar. Like the musical, Gibson extracts an iconic religious figure from history and grafts her onto a contemporary stage, excavating and examining all the evidence surrounding her trial in a profoundly confronting way.

Gibson embodies Joan as a modern teenager doing teenage things, laughing and giggling on the phone to her friends, and as a patriotic leader on a battlefield yielding a sword. Gibson also portrays her accusers with flamboyance and grungy intensity that is reminiscent of this rendition of Pontius Pilate in Superstar. But while mere parody would be entertaining enough, Gibson goes further and examines the spread of dangerous ideas through literature such as The Hammer of the Witches, a book so absurdly evil that it would be completely laughable, if it were not for the fact that it led to the execution of hundreds of thousands of innocent women.

Gibson doesn’t hold back in mocking the author’s obsession with blaming women for everything, including men’s fear of emasculation, holding up a giant wobbly penis on a platter searching for its rightful owner. Of course women are to blame! They make it go up – and down! If you don’t know where your masculinity went, try rummaging through a woman’s handbag – it’s bound to be in there somewhere!

These antics may be comical and a bit over the top, but this mindset isn’t far from the truth. For example, when a woman is intensely disliked, she is often accused of being a witch, and is subject to vitriol and abuse. Julia Gillard and Madonna are cited as examples. Meghan Markle also comes to mind. Gibson’s theatrics merely holds up a mirror to the fucked up reality we live in, where women with power or privilege that don’t submit to a socially acceptable standard are fodder for trash talk to sell magazines and score ratings.

In even worse cases in some parts of the world, a woman who is disobedient is left screaming in terror for her own life, but we rarely get to hear about them in the media.

In Joan’s case, she endured slander, public humiliation, imprisonment, assault and the most horrific violence imaginable. At barely 19 years old, she was burned alive at the stake, not once but three times to destroy all bodily remains, and her ashes unceremoniously dumped in the River Seine. 20 years later, the verdict was overturned and Joan was cleared of any wrongdoing. Her canonisation in 1920 solidified in her place in history as a martyr and a saint, one who would be remembered for her bravery and courage long after all her pious self-righteous accusers had perished.

Gibson commands the audience to participate in the trial and martyrdom of St Joan of Arc, not with force, but with gentle prompts and whispers, swapping clothing with audience members, asking them to read aloud or write things down, or getting everyone out of their seats and piling them all up for a bonfire scene. A candlelit vigil had me choking up with tears. Earlier, Gibson guided the audience to chant the word “cunt” over and over again, till it no longer sounded cheap and crude, but rightfully returned to its feminine origin.

Gibson and director Anu Almagro have proudly created a piece of theatre that’s unashamedly in your face and very weird; it makes you squirm when the spotlight is on you to be active, not passive, but the effect is true to the intention and character of St Joan; a rebel who wore men’s clothing, had tremendous courage, integrity and spirit and could command an army of people to do anything with her divine feminine power and authority.

Voices of Joan played at Brand X in Darlinghurst on 24 and 25 March. For more information about Whale Chorus Theatre Company, go to https://whalechorus.com/.
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Images: Natasha Blankfield

The Wasp by acclaimed playwright Morgan Lloyd Malcolm is having an ubiquitous moment in theatres across Sydney, and it’s not hard to see why. This latest production by Crying Chair Theatre cements it as one of the most compelling contemporary dramas. Two women, both scarred by violence in their childhood, meet up again 20 years later, seemingly to confront the past and bury the hatchet…but there’s more complexity to this tragic story.

The script gives equal weighting to two dominant female characters. Heather (Mel Day) was the mousy girl with pigtails who is now married to a guy called Simon and seems to be ‘doing alright for herself’, while Carla (Emma Dalton) is the bogan chick from Hicksville who was part of the gang that relentlessly bullied Heather; she’s now living the quasi-happily-married domestic life with four kids and a fifth child on the way. But while Carla finds getting pregnant a breeze, Heather reveals she is struggling with fertility. It’s the first sting in a long list of grievances.

The shifting power balance between these two characters makes it very dynamic to watch. Carla initially comes off as the stronger one; she isn’t the bully she used to be, but she’s tough and can rationalise the violence for what it is (“I get it” / “it happened to everyone else”). In short, she’s moved on, emotionally and psychologically. But Heather’s grudge is not so easy to lift; she’s pained by the ache of not being able to conceive a child. She feels something inside her is “blocked”, graphically describing the pivotal moment of sexual assault perpetrated by Carla’s gang. It’s about as comfortable as listening to nails on a chalkboard.

But just when you are convinced where your sympathy should lie, the dynamic flips again. The character arc is impressive; Heather reveals a cold, calculating side that is beyond feeling rational and forgiving, while Carla is reduced from her tough-talking stance to tearful bargaining (“You want my child? You can have it!”). Heather’s desire to make Carla suffer with the inconceivable threat of fetal abduction makes this story of schadenfreude excruciatingly intense.

Director Richard Cotter facilitates a crisp, chilling delivery from his wonderful actors that plays out like a pulp fiction classic. The set design and props are minimalist and sparse, giving space to delve into the disturbed mental state of each protagonist. When Heather reveals an insect display on the wall of her living room that includes a giant wasp, it sub-textually suggests the act of dismemberment, like the fine handiwork of a cold blooded killer. The sheer creepiness of it all is accentuated by the haunting sound design by Michael Schell which lingers during the interval.

Overall, the creative team makes this 2.5 hander (counting Carla’s unborn child) an edge-on-your seat thriller that leaves the audience gasping at the final moment.

The Wasp by Crying Chair Theatre is playing at Flight Path in Marrickville till 1 April. For tickets and showtimes go to https://cryingchairtheatre.com.au/the-wasp

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Images: Eloise Martin Jones

Plenty of Fish in the Sea is a quirky, poetic and highly original piece of theatre that explores this idiom in a humorous and absurdist way. Conceived and performed by Clockfire Theatre Production, the play takes the audience on an allegorical journey to a small Catholic fishing village in northern France, where religion simmers with romance and some divine fish stew served on the side. The result is exciting, fresh and very appetising.

The premise centres around an English backpacker (Adam Lee) finding himself stranded in unfamiliar territory in the fictional fishing village of Saint-Cotriade, so named after the patron saint of fish. He drifts into a convent run by a peculiar but charitable nun (Madeline Baghurst) and her acolyte Bernadette (Emily Ayoub) who has taken a vow of silence. After an awkward introduction they quickly get down to the business of finding the greatest catch of all to make the best cotriade fish stew in honour of Saint-Cotriade.

This simple and charming story has echoes of Hemingway, Lewis Carroll and those lovely French movies that play every year on Valentine’s Day (Chocolat comes to mind). It’s apt (or perhaps coincidental) that this play is being performed in the Piscean month of February at a venue called The Flying Nun in Darlinghurst. It certainly adds to the religious context that many of Jesus’ followers were fishermen who were struggling to catch anything until Jesus commanded them to ‘throw their net on the other side’, yielding an enormous abundance of fish. The play draws a metaphor between the parable and modern day frustrations with finding the perfect catch in an endless sea of dating apps, technology and shallow hook-up culture.

Emily Ayoub and Madeline Baghurst draw on their own experiences in France to deliver authentically rich performances. Baghurst’s beatified expressions and flawless French makes her extremely believable as the nun while Ayoub is piously modest yet flushed with curiosity at the handsome young Englishman. Adam Lee as the drifting visitor / narrator also delivers an authentic cockney performance that drew quite a few laughs.

The minimalist staging included a picture frame for a window, a bed doubling up as a boat and a revolving cupboard that cleverly contained a kitchen and the nun’s sleeping quarters. Seeing these be shifted around the stage with perfectly-timed sound effects made it quite a lot of fun to watch and makes you appreciate innovative set design that much more.

At a brisk 50-mins duration, the play kept the audience hooked all the way through an absurdist escapade that included a brief raunchy scene and some rather wild fishing props. The audience appreciated this gem served up with hearty humour that left them wanting to come back for more.

Plenty of Fish in the Sea is playing till 11 February at The Flying Nun in Darlinghurst. For tickets and showtimes go to https://www.clockfiretheatre.com/plenty-of-fish-in-the-sea

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Image credit: Geoff Magee

“You can’t handle the truth!”

Lt. Col. Nathan Jessep – A Few Good Men

Castle Hill Players have done it again with knocking another production out of the park – this time in the form of Aaron Sorkin’s highly successful play later turned into a critically acclaimed film starring Tom Cruise, Jack Nicholson and Demi Moore. “You can’t handle the truth!” is forever etched in our collective psyche thanks to countless spoofs and Jack Nicholson’s iconic delivery. With such prestige behind it, audiences have an expectation that this play will be a good one to watch, and this production definitely exceeded all expectations, judging by the rapturous applause in a fully packed house on opening night.

A Few Good Men tells the story of two young naval officers accused of murdering one of their comrades after following strict (and highly questionable) disciplinary orders. They are on trial to determine if the murder was committed wilfully or because they were explicitly issued with an order to enforce ‘Code Red’ (i.e. extreme disciplinary measures). The victim, Santiago, knew his life was in danger after snitching on another comrade and begged his superiors for a transfer which never came through. The superiors who allegedly issued the Code Red order will do anything to prove otherwise, even it means throwing the two young officers under a bus.

Defending the two young officers is Lt Daniel Kaffee (Dimitri Armatas) supported by Lt. Commander Joanne Galloway (Jacqui Wilson). Both are fairly inexperienced in high stakes legal court cases but are eager to prove their capabilities beyond superficial impressions: Kaffee seems to coast along, riding on his father’s famous legacy, while Galloway is criticised for ‘interfering’ as a woman and making costly mistakes. This dynamic tension works well, established with just the right balance of exposition and action in Act 1. When they become united in their purpose in Act 2 during the courtroom scene, it’s like watching a thrilling game of chess; it’s the kind of psychological-legal drama which has you hanging on the edge of your seat till the final showdown when those famous lines are uttered.

Director Annette Van Roden stays faithful to the stage script while giving actors plenty to work with – Armatas in particular shines in Act 2 when he can let loose a little and show the sarcastic wit of his character. Brendan McBride owns Jack Nicholson’s role (aka Lt Col. Nathan Jessep) with that cunning snake-in-the-grass formidability. Jono Burt as his sidekick Lt Jonathan James Kendrick is chilling with his religious do-or-die fervour. Wilson as Galloway is solid. Toby Rowe and Hamish Ingersoll as Dawson and Downey respectively make a good pairing as the two officers who have nothing to confess except their call of duty. Overall, the cast of 15 make this very American production work well for an Australian crowd with a great deal of patriotism and grit.

The set design by Abby Bishop also exceeded expectations which is always a signature calling card of any play at Pavilion Theatre. It’s clear a lot of thought went into how the stage would be set up to allow pockets of conversations to take place in different settings. The dynamic fluidity between past and present kept the dramatic tension going without breaking momentum. Each scene had a clear and precise objective. Act 2 – which predominately takes place in the courtroom – allows the audience to feel engaged as the jury.

At 2 hours duration plus 20 minute interval with a late start and finish, A Few Good Men is on the longish side to sit through, but definitely worth it for a few great hours of captivating and rewarding entertainment.

A Few Good Men is currently playing at the Pavilion Theatre in Castle Hill till 25 February. For tickets and showtimes, go to http://paviliontheatre.org.au/afewgoodmen/

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Image credit: Chris Lundie

Verdict: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2

Opening night of Amadeus at Sydney Opera House garnered a well deserved standing ovation. For almost three hours the audience was rapt with the story of a madman racked with guilt for murdering his musical rival, motivated by obsessive jealously, spite and lust for fame. This revenge story is like no other, where murder is plotted slowly, deliberately, over the course of several years, culminating in a horrific gnawing realisation by the protagonist that killing the person he hated the most achieved the exact opposite of what he intended.

Peter Shaffer’s play is a wonderfully inventive piece of historical fiction charting the rival between Mozart and Italian court composer Salieri, two very talented classical musicians in their own right, both worthy of fame and recognition, except one is a gifted genius and the other…is not. Ay, there’s the rub.

Shaffer infuses Salieri with pathological narcissism that makes him request musical greatness to be bestowed to him by God, so that he can be famous and remembered throughout history. In return, he will do whatever it takes to keep God happy. Mozart, on the other hand, is an impudent, immature child prodigy now in his early 20s, charming the courts with his musical virtuosity that seems so effortless, exciting and divinely inspired. It drives Salieri into a a seething rage, a rage that is simmering, just for now, as he regards Mozart with a hateful but begrudging curiosity.

Source: SOH website

Michael Sheen as Antonio Salieri is simply outstanding, carrying some heavy vocal work for the entire duration of the performance with audible perfection. His lovely Welsh accent transforms to high-pitched Italian caricature as he summons the “ghosts of the distant future” to hear his confession. Every inch of his performance prizes open his soul a little more to reveal a man haunted by his past, forever tormented by shame of his own mediocrity and maddening sense of injustice.

There are sparkling moments of comedy gold too, such as his guttural emphasis on the word “blessed” into the microphone, making it sound like he’s going through an exorcism (speaking as ‘God’ – “Go forth Antonio. Serve me and Mankind and you will be bleeeeeessed!!”).

Sheen is renowned for being the kind of actor that gives generously to his community, and his spirit of generosity in traveling all the way to Sydney was warmly welcomed by the audience. As this interview in the Guardian reveals, it’s his first visit to our shores, travelling with a young family on a gruesome schedule. We are definitely lucky to have him! This interview podcast on ABC radio is also excellent – an insight into Sheen’s upbringing in Wales and his career arc in playing both roles in Amadeus from Mozart to Salieri.

Rahel Romahn as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is an Australian talent and the current recipient of the prestigious Heath Ledger Scholarship. His Mozart is as poetic and inspired as the prodigy himself, with a wonderful lilting vocal lyricism full of innocence, nimbleness and childlike wonder. His slow death by starvation and isolation engineered by Salieri is anguishing and paralysing to watch, gasping for one more breath to finish the music that is more precious to him than oxygen, more beautiful than life itself. He bravely continues to write music, willing himself to get out of bed, even when he barely has any strength left and the whole world tells him his work is “no longer fashionable”.

In earlier scenes, Mozart and Salieri have a lively debate on the merit of virtuosity, with the latter informing that “one must avoid music that smells like music”, as in, “music which makes one aware too much of the virtuosity of its composer.” It’s a cautionary reproach to being brilliantly and hilariously upstaged by Mozart during their formal introduction in which Mozart improvises on Salieri’s stodgy welcoming march, made famous in this scene from the 1984 film adaptation. It highlights the conflict not only in their musical approaches to composition, but also, their personality types: Salieri is methodical, meticulous and ambitious, with a wry and often cheeky sense of humour, but his capacity to express his feelings is limited by his own interior logic. Mozart in contrast is spontaneous, irreverent, and demonstratively expressive, with a desire to tell ‘everyday’ stories set in bedrooms and brothels rather than rehash same-old mythology themes, but his naivety and lack of self control makes it impossible for him to find work when his reputation is tarnished.

Rounding out the main cast is Lily Balatinczas Constanze Mozart, an intelligent and unpretentious woman who matches her husband’s playfulness, disregarded by many as a commoner, but with a fiery spirit who won’t put up with anyone’s shit without a fight. She knows perfectly well Salieri is the culprit of their sabotaged hopes and dreams, and survives comfortably long after her husband is dead and buried in a pauper’s grave.

For all the cruelty inflicted by Salieri and the finicky world at large for not appreciating Mozart more during his lifetime, there is justice: not only does Salieri feel God’s wrath by finally getting everything he wants, only to be disappointed by the hollowness of fame, he also lives long enough to see his own name fade into obscurity while Mozart’s music flourishes everywhere. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is knowing his sins of envy and pride led him nowhere, from the start he was condemned to a life of mediocrity, being given an appetite for glory with no means to feed himself from within, so that he is forever hungry and searching for a meaningful existence to fill his aching soul. He can declare war on God and tell him “He’s blocked” for not endowing him with greatness, but he can’t escape the demons in his head. And in the end, there’s no worse feeling in the world than feeling naked and seen by God.

Amadeus is playing at Sydney Opera House till 21 January 2023.
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Image credit: Daniel Boud

‘..but never yet Incest and Murder have so strangely met’.

– The Cardinal, ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore

Thus sums up The Company Theatre’s thrilling debut of this perverted and highly controversial play by John Ford. Content warnings include depictions of graphic violence, domestic violence, nudity, sex scenes…and Shakespearean-language. The play was first written and performed circa 1629, about a decade after Shakespeare died. Shakespeare wrote iconic and often gory plays, but this blood-soaked production makes Shakespeare look like Charles Dickens.

This production was inspired by members of the cast who studied at Actors Centre Australia where ‘Tis Pity was briefly explored. This acting studio is renowned for excruciating rehearsals; every single word in a script is dissected, analysed, repeated over and over again until it is not just imprinted in your brain, but etched in the very depths of your soul. It’s that kind of dedication to the craft that made this play a success, which otherwise might have fallen flat due to the archaic script that initially sounded esoteric and heavy with wordy exposition.

The play is about incest between a brother and sister who have fallen in love; she is the beautiful prize every man desires and tries to woo, but it is her brother who seduces her. The affair is sanctioned by her maid, Putana who keeps their secret in her confidence. After all, ‘love is love’, right? Erm no, according to….well just about everybody else, including the brother who seeks counsel from his Friar to quell him of his illicit feelings.

Although Ford chose a provocative title which squarely blames the woman, this production shows the crude side of male dominance and primal need for ownership and power. Perhaps Ford’s intention was to neutrally present the conflict between passion and conscience, but this production turns up the violence to full force to show that women back then (and many ways now) did not have agency over their own body. Annabella as the sister is merely a pawn in this game of thrones dominated by men, cardinals, soldiers, unsuitable suitors and even her own brother who commits a heinous crime against her.

Olivia Hall-Smith as Annabella and Bayley Prendergast as her brother, Giovanni, give their all to these challenging roles, but it did feel at times that the expository dialogue was a barrier to their heat and passion. The direction seemed to lean into overemphasis of ‘playing the effect’ (e.g. shaking uncontrollably to ‘show’ vulnerability). This is is not to take away any credit to the lead actors in incredibly risky roles, but it’s an important observation. What did work wonderfully was the use of props as euphemisms (e.g an egg) which was skilfully and delicately handled during their passionate love making. We will never look at eggs in the same way again.

Other standout elements in the production was the stagecraft, which created the haunting, disturbing world of that uncomfortable intersection between religion and sex. The interior balcony allowed characters to hide in shadows while they plotted and schemed. The incanting murmurs shrouded in darkness sent chills down the spine, while the lighting was expertly used to set the mood and tone for each scene.

Arkia Ashraf as Soranzo, the man who eventually marries Annabella only to then discover her secret, was reminiscent of Billy Zane’s character in Titanic. Perfect casting choice that again would benefit from a little more exploration of his character’s wants, needs and desires to elevate the dramatic tension.

Isabella Williams as Hippolita, Soranzo’s scorned lover, was absolutely brilliant, owning the script as if it were her tailor-made for her. Every inch of her performance oozed Lady Macbeth whilst still garnering sympathy for what that bastard Soranzo did to her. Her dance at the start of Act 2 was intriguing, making a hat and coat look decidedly animated and creepy.

Speaking of creepy…Will Manton as Grimaldi was another standout. The script says he is ‘a Roman gentleman’ but the impression was that of a solider with PTSD. Either way, it was a fantastic performance, intensified by his psychotic sock-puppet soliloquy.

Clay Crighton as Vazquez, a musician and servant to Soranzo, schemed along brilliantly with Hippoli, creating a believable character arc from innocuous fiddler to cold-blooded murderer. Claudia Shnier as Putana (a name which literally means ‘whore’) gave a solid performance as Annabella’s loyal, level-headed and well-meaning servant. In fact, she seemed so self-assured and practical that what happened to her took the audience completely by surprise.

Martin Portus as Florio, father of Annabella and Giovanni, and Maeliosa Stafford as their trusted Friar, brought years and wisdom to their roles with authority and gravitas. Florio’s reaction when he learns of his daughter’s death was heartbreaking; the Friar’s final look at the carnage before him expressed an emotion that words simply can not. These were shades of brilliant acting that would be worthy of statuettes, yet so humbly and generously shared with independent theatre.

Dallas Reedman as Bergetto (a clumsy, hapless suitor) and Steve Maresca as Donado, his father, made a good, solid pairing, working well with the material to make a marriage proposal seem like a business deal gone hilariously wrong. It was interesting to note that Ford didn’t give Donado a memorable scene to mourn the shocking death of his child the way Florio does – he’s basically told to ‘get over it’. Perhaps future productions might take some liberties to give more weighting to this tragedy.

Speaking of shocking deaths, the whole ‘get up and walk off after you die’ tended to dilute what just happened. It would have been more interesting to see the bodies stay dead and disposed in different ways. For example, one of the bodies got rolled under the table after her gruesome death. Reedman, however, got up and crashed into a chair while hurriedly making his exit, but perhaps that was keeping in line with his clumsy character.

Finally, Mark Barry as The Cardinal personified loathsome privilege and corruption. As a beautiful young victim lay blood-slain before him, he pinches her jewellery ‘for the coffers’, and gropes her bare skin while declaring ‘pity she’s a whore’.

Perhaps a more apt title for this play would have been Pity He’s a Man.

‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore is on at Flow Studios until 13 November. For tickets and showtimes go to https://www.trybooking.com/events/landing/972696

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Images: Mark Grzic

@redharvestproductions

I must admit I have a sweet spot for colourful Italian drama, having thoroughly enjoyed House of Gucci, the musical Nine and anything with Sophia Loren in it. So it was a fait accompli to say yes to reviewing The Italians by Danny Ball at Belvior 25A.

And what a play it was! Unlike traditional theatre, there was no solemn formality of waiting for the play to start; from the moment the audience walked in, they were no longer just the audience, but invited guests witnessing intimate family relations and deep dark secrets.

Come on in! Would you like a sweet? It’s homemade! This gesture of passing round sweets wasn’t just a gimmick, but a lovely touch of authenticity that made you feel welcome.

The scene unfolds with an Italian family socialising over a game of cards; we are introduced to Gaetano (Tony Poli), his wife Giovanna (Deborah Galanos), their daughter Maria (Amy Hack) and their son Sal (Danny Ball) along with his partner Joe (Brandon Scane). The same-sex premise is interesting but not, as you might expect, the primary source of conflict in this story; in the parents’ eyes it’s not their son’s sexuality that is the problem, but the fact that he has chosen to be with someone who is beneath them in social class, having been born to Sicilian parents instead of full-blood Italian. Although they begrudgingly accept Joe into the family for being good natured and sweet, his partner Sal can’t hide his arrogance and disdain for Joe’s humble upbringing. This puts a strain on their relationship which is surviving partly because Joe is driven by loyalty, so much so that he plans to propose to Sal.

But before Joe can pop the question, all hell breaks loose when an estranged relative (Nic English) unexpectedly pops back into his life with a huge ransom demand.

From the beginning I don’t think I’ve heard an audience laugh so long and so hard for an uninterrupted 80-mins straight. Ball supplies more rip-snorting lines than a cocaine addict, as the surreality of each scene becomes more and more absurd. Like commedia dell’arte, this play has that wonderful comedic vibe that we saw in movies such as Life is Beautiful, with ‘cameos’ by the Virgin Mary, Lady Gaga, and the current PM as a caped hero chasing away a Hasonite.

Taking on this farce takes huge bravado by the entire cast, particularly Emma Sullivan who pounces on the stage with the ferociousness of a wild cat. A sacrilegious tiramisu falls victim to her attack for not being ‘Italian enough’, even though Joe made it for Sal to demonstrate his love. Awww!

Philip D’Ambrosio also offered plenty of laughs with the tradie’s version of Shakespeare, and other hysterical roles.

The cast was supported by an appropriately garish set design and pops of colour that drew your eye to the entertaining theatrics. Set and Costume Designer (Grace Deacon) crafted a beautiful vision that helped to illuminate larger-than-life characters with their own sense of personal style, while Lighting Designer (Phoebe Pilcher) superbly used purple and blue tones to accent the drama.

The director (Riley Spadaro) and Choreographer (Amy Hack) made use of a small stage with busy stage action and dialogue being thrown out like bullets, always taking careful aim of what they want the audience to see and hear, and never misfiring. It’s testimony that when a play sometimes sounded like Italian gibberish, the audience still kept laughing, because it was so damn funny.

Although camp humour is hard to sustain unless there is substance behind it, Ball delivers on that substance with nuanced glimpses into difficult family upbringings that demand an outward appearance of respectability and fervent religiousness while ugly truths are swept under the carpet. It’s very relatable to witness those moments when being part of a ‘culture’ feels more like a ‘cult’.

But, on the flipside, there is an irresistible charm to being Italian. Blood is thicker than olive oil! is the refrain in the show’s closing musical scene.

As Ball so aptly put it in the writer’s note: “That’s the point of this play – it’s a chaotic rally for a reconnection to culture. Having said that, the play has no reverence for the past, no nostalgia for a different time. It both champions and condemns a culture which can be both vibrant and melancholic, welcoming and xenophobic, passionate and inert…It’s a manic desire to seek out and redefine what it means to be Italian, and what it might mean in the future.”

The Italians is playing at Belvior 25A until 6 November. Tickets and showtimes can be found at https://belvoir.com.au/productions/the-italians/

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Images: Katherine Griffiths

For the Grace of You Go I has a short but punchy run at Kings Cross Theatre. Tech rehearsals and opening night was graced by the playwright himself, Alan Harris, who travelled all the way from Wales where the play is set. It’s a quirky, innovative play that has relatable characters against a backdrop of an absurdist reality infused with Kubrik / David Lynch / Orwellian vibes.

Jim (James Smithers) is a job seeker on benefits, the sort that society lets fall through the cracks. His case manager, Irina (Jane Angharad) pushes him to accept a job as a ‘food artisan’ at a pizza parlour, where his only task is to apply pepperoni slices on pizzas as fast and as accurately as possible. Jim is eager, but his mental health won’t allow him to stay focused and do the job to the standard demanded by his employer. In his free time Jim heads down to his local film club to watch and critique obscure arthouse movies, which spawns his obsession with a film called I hired a contract killer. During this screening he meets Mark (Shan-Ree Tan) – an ex-military solider / online writer with a personality that could be described as ‘unhinged.’ Mark is also Irina’s partner.

Jim and Mark bond over their mental health struggles; Jim says he has Depersonalisation-derealisation Disorder (DPD) which creates a feeling of detachment from himself, as if he is only watching a film of his own life. This disorder is played out with various cameras and projections to illustrate Jim’s perception.

Mark comes across as more narcissistic and paranoid; like a grenade he must be handled gently or else he might explode. This tension is what creates compelling drama in Harris’ play, moreso than Irina’s frustration with Jim that he is the slowest and ‘worst worker’ she’s ever seen. There are wry references to government-funded employment programmes that are ineffective, patronising and wasteful, but it’s the day-to-day struggle that is more engaging for the audience. This was highlighted by an unexpected break in the running of the show due to technical issues (which the crew handled with aplomb), and gave the audience a chance to digest what they were exploring. After the short break, the play shifted into a (much needed) and higher gear that raised the stakes: Jim decides to cast himself as the real-life protagonist in I hired a contract killer, and hires Mark to be the hitman.

This delicious premise was supported by an innovative set design (Monique Langford and Kate Ingram) with a green screen draped across a traverse stage that made fantastic use of multiple cameras and projections. We saw close ups of actors’ faces which normally doesn’t happen in theatre; there were also trippy camera effects and mind bends as action scenes were mirrored or deliberately out of sync from what was being projected. The result was intriguing, and unnerving. The scenes from I hired a contract killer felt weird (in a cinematic way, like Kubrik!) and added plenty more cheese to the pizzas that were being served.

If there was any ingredient missing in this production, it would be more of a backstory to Mark’s condition. We wanted to know why Mark left (or was expelled?) from the military. There was an opportunity in the narrative to raise the stakes further which wasn’t quite realised, and rendered the final scene a little anti-climatical.

Still, For the Grace of You Go I is an interesting, experimental play that worked well due to the commitment and creativity of its wonderful cast and crew, including Lucy Clements (director), Jane Angharad, James Smithers & Emma Wright (producers), Clare Sheridan (stage manager), Alice Stafford (lighting designer) and Alex Holver (technical director).

For the Grace of You Go I is playing at KXT – Kings Cross Theatre until Oct 15. For tickets, go to: http://www.kingsxtheatre.com/grace
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Images by Clare Hawley

Photograph 51 at Ensemble Theatre is the kind of play you will want to see more than once. Written by Anna Ziegler, directed by Anna Ledwich and made famous by starring Nicole Kidman on West End London, the play is an intellectually satisfying journey into the heart and soul of its real life protagonist, Doctor Rosalind Franklin, a brilliant scientist whose work in discovering the double helix structure of DNA was overlooked. Her male colleagues went on to win the Nobel Prize for that discovery in 1962, a prize which by then Franklin was tragically ineligible for as she had passed. History still debates whether Franklin’s work was unscrupulously stolen or justifiably overshadowed by her male colleagues. What is undisputed is that Franklin operated in a highly competitive and misogynistic male environment that treated female scientists as inferior subordinates. James Watson, who was awarded the Nobel Prize along with two other male colleagues, wrote a book in which he aggrandized his own contribution while criticising Franklin for being difficult to work with, referring to her throughout the book as ‘Rosy’ (she hated being called that name).

The play conjectures how their interactions may have sounded at the time, portraying Doctor Franklin as a flesh and blood human being with professional and personal aspirations – not just an intellect, a brain, or a woman, but a very real human being.

Watching Amber McMahon embody Doctor Franklin is captivating from the word go. There’s pure chemistry between her and her male colleagues as she holds her ground with unflinching self-confidence, while they orbit like moths around her drawn to her powerful illuminating intellect. Garth Holcombe as Maurice Wilkins reflects arrogance, awkwardness and vulnerability in a way that is both endearing to the audience yet repulsive to Doctor Franklin, however, they eventually discover they have much in common and a mutual respect develops. Gareth Yuen as Raymond (‘Ray’) Gosling offers sidekick comic relief that is relatable to any struggling PhD or university student. It is Gosling’s Photograph 51 of the double helix that is produced and analysed under Franklin’s supervision, which is later usurped by Watson. The casting choice of Robert Jago as Crick is quite interesting; Watson was in his early 20s and Crick was only a decade older at the time of their partnership; however, Jago as Crick looks more like Watson’s father. Nevertheless, their avuncular relationship works well in this play. Toby Blome is age-appropriately cast as Watson, playing an overzealous American youth with pathological conviction. He is as opportunistic, charming and cunning as Edison. Jake Speer as Don Casper is also hungry for success while offering a sympathetic and possible romantic love interest to Franklin.

The set and lighting allows the characters to shine in their moments of dynamic exchanges while gentle background music adds poignancy. The set takes the audience to a busy day in the lab, highlighting the territorial struggle for space, autonomy and privacy, and offers plausible insight into how one of the world’s most famous and important discoveries was leaked into the world.

Overall, Photograph 51 is a brilliantly executed play that does justice to the legacy of Doctor Rosalind Franklin, giving her full credit for the attributes she valued most – her work ethic and integrity as opposed to subterfuge in conducting her research.

Photograph 51 is currently playing at Ensemble Theatre till 8 October. For tickets and show times go to https://www.ensemble.com.au/shows/photograph-51/

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Images by Teniola Komolafe

Claudel is a fascinating study of a woman who was ahead of her time, a French protégé of Auguste Rodin who ultimately became his lover and accomplished sculptor in her own right. Written and directed by Wendy Beckett, it is a far cry from being a cliché about seduction and betrayal, and instead takes the audience on a rich visual experience to convey emotional depth.

The play opens at a scene at Académie Colarossi, one of the few studios at the time that permitted women to study art and work from live models. Three female students are excited by the news their tutor will be replaced by Rodin, a man renowned for his brusqueness and numerous affairs. He does not disappoint, arriving with an air of masculine authority which Claudel is quick to undermine: “let us leave him to continue this conversation with himself” she retorts in response to his condescending rhetoric. In spite of her callow youth, Rodin recognises Claudel’s talent and soon makes her an offer too good to refuse: the chance to work alongside side him on commissioned pieces and sculpt her own works (with the proviso he receives most of the credit). Awakening her creative ambition proves to be very seductive and it’s not long before professional boundaries are crossed, much to the chagrin and disgust of her sanctimonious mother who does not want her daughter dabbling in the arts, let alone be cavorting around with a married man. She implores her only son, Paul, to put an end to her daughter’s passions; initially he seems like a proud ally of his sister with poetic and political ambitions of his own, but ultimately colludes with his mother to enslave Claudel to an asylum for several decades following her mental and professional deterioration.

What makes this play particularly powerful are the performances of the ensemble cast including actors and dancers who articulate every bit of agony and ecstasy of the doomed relationship. A triad of performers (Dorothea Csutkai, Cloé Fournier and Kip Gamblin) are cast as art models that create ‘sculptures by the scene’, their symbolic formations appearing in fantastical and nightmarish form, almost gargoyle-like in their appearance. An abortion scene depicting the removal of the fetus is particularly distressing, marking a sharp decline in Claudel’s mental health.

Imogen Sage as Camille Claudel brings passion, energy and authenticity to the role, revealing that she prepared for her part by “going to sculpture classes and meeting with a sculptor in his studio to learn about the hands on everyday experience.” Christopher Stollery as Rodin is formidable, imposing and restrained without any caricature or pretenses about playing one of the most revered icons of all time. Tara Morice as Madame Claudel exudes the very essence of religious hypocrisy, a woman with a poisoned heart that is as heavy and cold as the marble her daughter is so fond of.

It goes without saying that Claudel does not have a happy ending, but showcases one of the greatest ironies of art: it can lead to madness of the makers who created it, but, in being rediscovered and celebrated, it can restore the beauty, magnificence and significance of the artists who have been broken long after the dust has settled.

As Imogen Sage so neatly put it: 

“Camille has often been thought of as a “mad woman” sculptor. Her family locked her in an asylum for thirty years, but her doctors had concluded that she was sane. She was free to leave with a letter from her mother or brother, but they declined. She could have had much more success if her family had been more supportive, and if Rodin hadn’t got in her way. She had a breakdown, which occurred very soon after her father passed away. I think he was all she had left apart from her art. The play gives her the dignity she deserves in telling her story as an intelligent, dedicated female artist who experienced a tragic sequence of events that led to her being institutionalised against her will.”

Claudel is currently on at Sydney Opera House till 9 May 2021.
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Photo credit: Daniel Boud

Animal Farm opened this week at New Theatre in Newtown offering quite a few twists and surprises of this well-known masterpiece by George Orwell.

Orwell’s book was published in 1945 causing a wave of controversy and debate over the years for its biting political satire. Orwell’s work is set on a farm where anthropomorphic animals are led into a bloody and victorious rebellion against their cruel human masters, only to have their new-found freedom gradually crumble under the crushing and tyrannical regime of their new leader, Napoleon, an imposing and formidable boar pig.

Animal Farm would have been no mean feat to adapt to the stage given its large cast of human and animal characters, complex ideologies and pivotal scenes of extreme violence. However, from the outset of the play, it is clear this production is in the hands of a very skilful playwright and director (Saro Lusty-Cavallari) who effortlessly makes this piece work for a contemporary Australian context.

Far from being intellectually dense, both the book and stage adaptation are pleasantly accessible to people of ages, with easy-to-follow allegorical references that allude to darker and more sinister themes and characters. Indeed, it is the performances of each and every actor on stage that makes Animal Farm such a wondrous delight and terror to watch.

Some of the standout performances include Squealer (Zoe Crawford) who absolutely steals every scene with her hilarious Julia Gilliard-esque inspired performance, followed by Napoleon (Angus Evans) who is every inch (and hoof) the scheming tyrannical psychopath, and Boxer (Laura Djanegara) who’s mantra “I will work harder” becomes more and more heartbreaking until she eventually succumbs to fatigue and exhaustion.

The remaining cast do a superb job of interchangeably moving between man and beast, which leads to a conclusion that is both contradictory and on point with the book’s final scene; that humans and animals are essentially the same in terms of their primal need for survival, and that ‘survival of the fittest’ comes to a dear cost to those who don’t play the political game.

Overall, this play is a highly recommended evening for lovers of theatre, literature, animal liberation and anyone who enjoys a good political debate. With plenty of pivotal moments and whip-crackling scenes, one is sure to be thoroughly entertained and moved by this perfectly cast and well-executed production.

George Orwell’s Animal Farm, adapted by Saro Lusty-Cavallari, is on from 13 October – 7 November 2020 at New Theatre, Newtown. For bookings go to newtheatre.org.au

Terminal illness is hardly the stuff of laugh out loud comedy, yet Clock and Spiel’s production of Wit at the Seymour Centre certainly manages to be wickedly amusing whilst being thought-provoking and tragic.

Directed by Helen Tonkin, the play centres on the narrative of Vivian Bearing, a highly esteemed scholar and lecturer of John Donne who has been diagnosed with Stage 4 ovarian cancer. Vivian’s armour of fierce intellect and fascination with words are put to the test as she grapples with questions of mortality and humanity, both in a literary and physical context.

Donne provides much of the literary inspiration for this Pulitzer Prize-winning play written by Margaret Edson; in his lifetime Donne wrote 19 Holy Sonnets covering questions of life, death, God and ‘salvation anxiety’. Such was the greatness of Donne that he “made Shakespeare sound like a Hallmark card,” says Jess, a former student of Vivian who now works at the hospital as her oncologist, alongside Doctor Harvey Kelekian.

Cheryl Ward, who plays Vivian, takes on the arduous task of reciting and giving lectures on Donne without skipping a beat. With smart setting of props, the hospital ward seamlessly transitions into a lecture hall, as we are invited, as the audience, to take part in her classes. As audience members, we feel as confounded as her students, as Vivian revels in the marvels of Donne’s poetic paradoxes.

The supporting cast consisting of Chantelle Jamieson, Jan Langford-Penny, Yannick Lawry, Hailey McQueen, Matt Abotomey, Nyssa Hamilton and Shan-Ree Tan, do an excellent job of creating the academic and private worlds of Vivian at various stages of her life – a young girl discovering her love of words for the first time, to a brilliant yet unpolished student, through to the blossoming height of her academic greatness, and the crashing low of receiving news of her diagnosis. The most effective scenes are of her verbal jousts with students and doctors, highlighting the arc in Vivian’s own moral and spiritual development. We see her conscious mind working with a clinical, surgeon-like precision in her role as an academic, which parallels her dismay at the fact that hospice staff also regard her with little more than clinical scrutiny. Her identity has become her cancer; she is merely a scientific phenomenon, a fascinating specimen to be experimented on, nothing more. The cold, harsh reality of watching the cancer rob her of her intellect and speech is sharply contrasted with an acutely sensitive scene of her former Professor reading a soothing children’s story about runaway bunnies.

“An allegory of the soul,” Professor Ashford gently whispers to Vivian, now frail and barely clinging to life. “God will always find you.”

As we come to learn by the end of the play, death indeed be not an exclamation mark, but a mere full stop to a life well examined.

Wit is currently playing at the Seymour Centre until 26 October. For dates and times, go to www.seymourcentre.com

Poignant, warm, tragic and yet surprisingly humorous, The Diary of Anne Frank brings real-life events to the Pavilion Theatre in a stellar production by Castle Hill Players.

Featuring an extremely talented cast and directed by Faith Jessel, this play is based on the titular character, Anne Frank, and the diary she kept during her family’s confinement from the Nazis during WWII. Her diary was posthumously published as a book, The Diary of A Young Girl, which in turn inspired the stage production.

The play reveals Anne’s musings and observations she wrote in her diary, during her period of confinement over two years with her family and acquaintances. Together, five adults and three children all share a hidden room contained within her father’s spice warehouse in Amsterdam, known as the Secret Annex. Provisions are brought to them with the help of Miep Gies, an employee, and Mr Kraler, a business associate of Anne’s father.

As expected, the stress of the confinement soon takes its toll on the group who are forced to share meager rations, and things start bubbling over into conflict as personalities clash over issues of territory and decency. There are the Matriarchs (Mrs Edith Frank, Anne’s mother, and Mrs van Daan) who desperately want Anne to quieten down and behave more like her studious, placid sister, Margot Frank. There’s the bullish Mr van Daan who frequently has ‘violent discussions’ with his wife (at one point forcing her to give up her luxurious fur coat on the pretext of raising money for the poor, only to then use it as a bribe for cigarettes to gratify his smoking addiction). Mr Dussel, the dentist, appears as a late addition to the refuge party, and turns out to be socially awkward with a touch of OCD. Peter van Daan (son of Mr and Mrs van Daan) is a reticent, surly fellow who quickly catches Anne’s eye (much to the chagrin of his mother). And Otto Frank, Anne’s stoic and practical-minded father, steers the gathering throughout their turbulent daily squabbles and fears, some imagined, and some very real, as the terror of sudden capture looms outside their door.

At the heart of the play is of course, Anne – a mischievous, high-spirited teenage girl on the cusp of puberty with a vivid imagination and a penchant for talking back to adults. Her diary is a refuge to ‘speak her mind’ about the injustices not only of the war, but of being confined by the rules and expectations of her gender. At one point when Mr van Daan tries to put her in her place, she shouts back that she is going to do wonderful things with her life. She refuses to be defeated by her circumstances.

Despite her frustrations at being confined, Anne also displays a clever resourcefulness, even managing at one point to fashion a range of gifts for her group, using mere scraps of leftovers. These charming scenes not only lend comic relief to a serious subject matter, but also show the warmth and humanity of people who are bonding in the face of their impending, unspeakable grief.

The Diary of Anne Frank is currently on at Pavilion Theatre, a short walk from Castle Hill Metro station. For performance dates and times, visit www.paviliontheatre.org.au