Cabaret Festival. Mark Nadler. Space Theatre. 18 June 2014
And the love affair goes on.
There has never been an international showbiz relationship quite like it - and the the New York entertainer heard the love loud and clear as The Space's full house leapt to its feet in a riot of acclaim for his performance. Of course, it had been as seamlessly enriching as have his others over the years. Mark Nadler is a class act. It takes a special sort of consummate pro to engender all this love from Adelaide's notoriously discerning audiences. The Adelaide Cabaret Festival is just not the same if Mark Nadler is not here.
This year he took his audience on a musical storytelling adventure back into the daring 20s when Cabaret was born of a wicked edge and prohibition had people drinking more than ever before. In narratives shimmering with wit and innuendo, he told of just how movie star Clara Bow spread her famous "It" around. He told of one of the world's first openly gay performers, Gene Malin, and of the irresistible Libby Holman whose super-hot sexy style was not what it seemed. Heavens, she was an early cougar, bisexual no less, who ended up murdering her husband. Juicy yarns indeed. Nadler threw in Mae West and, spicing things up a treat, a couple of evangelists, always good to include when the theme is vice and scandal.
Nadler comes as almost a new model of himself. He has become a skinny man. But the new bod is a fine clotheshorse and his superbly-tailored white evening jacket and slinky waistcoat looked extremely dashing.
With two token 20s-style backing musicians on stage, he made magic on the grand piano and sang 20s songs both renown and forgotten. Lots of Cole Porter, some Cab Calloway, Irving Berlin and, of course, Kurt Weill.
He used tricks of coy come-hither in songs such as 'Ain't Misbehaving', he held the audience in thrall with his meld of Gershwin-cum-Braham et all in Limehouse Nights and Blues, all about London's druggy 20s. He raised a steamy torch, he shook up the house, he pranced a bit, mingled a bit and he made a New York dry martini which is so dry that the vermouth is barely an idea.
His performance reached from soft suggestiveness to full-power Broadway belt-outs, from yarns and a few gags even to true confession of an incongruous little religious canker...
On which theme, at show's end, Nadler added the best of stage acknowledgements by naming each person associated with his production in The Space as candidates for the "down there" where the sins are bright. That is the wild "down there" on which the show's devilish underworld theme was based, one suggested by the 20s night club where patrons slid down a chute and into the arms of a huge black man who carried them to their seats.
It seems odd that there was only one day of performances from Mr Nadelaide for he could have filled that cabaret space over and over again. However, he's moved on to the late night fun and games in the piano bar where he and his rubber chickens may continue to be adored for the rest of the fest.
And, perchance more, Mr Humphries?
Samela Harris
When: Closed
Where: Space Theatre
Bookings: Closed
Colin Hay. Adelaide Cabaret Festival. Dunstan Playhouse. 13 June 2014.
With ‘Waiting for my Real Life’, Colin Hay is here to tell his story for himself. It is June and Friday 13th - an auspicious date in more ways than one. Forty seven years ago to the day, in 1967, Colin Hay aged fourteen, arrived in Melbourne with his family – emigrating from Kilwinning in Scotland.
On stage in “Mr Dunstan’s Playhouse”, dressed in a raffish red tartan jacket, his receding hair still spiked in punkish tufts, Hay is immediately engaging as, setting up a likeable riff on his acoustic guitar, he begins to bind his storytelling spell. With his tangy Scots accent he talks about his early experiences in Australia and his formative influences - first in his father’s music supplies shop in Scotland, then as he begins to build a reputation as composer and front man for Men at Work, one of this country’s most rapidly successful international acts.
Drawing from his eleven solo albums and the meteoric three recorded with Men at Work between 1981 and 1985, Hay, in grainy good voice sings the title song from ‘Wayfaring Sons’ (“Don’t go out in the night”) then a slower tempo, almost ballad version of ‘Who Can it Be Now?’ and his laid-back homage to the beach life – ‘Beautiful World’.
Of course, his waggish humour and sardonic take on the world steers his commentary from tales of a friend being chased by a shark as prelude to ‘Beautiful World’ to self-deprecating anecdotes of mistaken celebrity. Those “didn’t you used to be…?” encounters: In that band that recorded ‘YMCA’? In the ‘Flock of Seagulls’? In the group that sang ‘Turning Japanese’?
There are dozens of stories and they are fun to hear - the Aussie Scots outsider at the Grammys, momentarily meeting Little Richard, then later as a soloist, getting to know Zach Braff, the creator of the TV series Scrubs - in which Hay (an occasional film and TV actor) appeared several times - and director of the movie Garden State, with its highly successful soundtrack which included Hay’s song ‘I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You’.
Needless to say ‘Down Under’ is a mine of jokes and reminiscences – although the bitter “Kookaburra sings” copyright infringement case is not among them. “We wrote this song,” is his only comment, “whatever you might have read.” He has stories about performing at the Sydney 2000 Olympics, of playing solo in Brazil, where he has a strong following, of an international tour he had to cancel and all he had left was a box of t-shirts with his name misspelled – Colin Hat.
This was the first time I had seen Colin Hay play live, although his reputation as a raconteur has long preceded him. And it’s all true. He is a troubadour and storyteller who draws in an audience and conspires with them with wit and surprising candour. Hay talks about his battle with alcohol and how fellow heavy drinkers don’t want to take it seriously, he also talks fondly and reflectively about his parents and sings ‘There’s Water Over You’ as a tribute to his father.
From his 1994 album ‘Topanga’, he sings ‘Waiting For My Real Life Begin’, “Any minute now, my ship is coming in,” a meditation about expectations which he links to the strange phenomenon of rapid success and its equally rapid evaporation. It is hard-won wisdom and genially expressed. Colin Hay has found his real forte as a travelling singer holding an audience in the palm of his hand. Closing this excellent show, accompanied on his Gryphon 12 string, he sings ‘A Simple Song’ - and makes a very special talent look easy.
Murray Bramwell
When: Closed
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Cabaret Festival. The Banquet Room. Festival Theatre. 14 June 2014
Picture Perfect is a relatively new song cycle written by New York Composer Scott Evan Davis that explores, through song, the real life moments “either side of the perfectly composed family portrait”.
The production draws on original material in Davis’s debut album ‘Cautiously Optimistic’ and is in the thick of its developmental stages, growing from a concert to a stage review and now transforming into a song cycle. As an evolving work it is incredibly difficult to review, so I’m going to try and only make observations through a mixture of ordered thoughts and feelings about what I saw.
Thematically the show still feels a little raw, but all of the ingredients in this production seem just right. Individually the songs evoke powerful emotions, each connecting in different ways for different people. Musically the production is incredibly complex; undergoing multiple key changes from song to song - perhaps a symptom of the songs not originally being written with the whole in mind, but certainly contributing to the not-so ‘picture perfect’ feel of the piece.
Narratively speaking the cycle loosely begins with the early stages of relationships and progresses through to parenthood and family. Emotionally the focus is quite heavy; predominantly targeting the most challenging and life changing moments of the panoply of characters. As the characters suffered in their own personal emotional turmoil, the audience are taken on a sad, occasionally depressing rollercoaster, with only a few moments of light heartedness or comedy for relief.
The work is perfectly pitched for cabaret, and a better genre could not be imagined for such a show. Director, David Lampard, in conjunction with the Independent Arts Foundation has made this work possible, but the tight rehearsal timeline has clearly made mounting the show challenging. The whole cast and production team should be commended for bringing it together as quickly as they have.
Boasting some of Adelaide’s, and Australia’s, most well-known performers the show was in very safe hands. The production starred David Harris, Johanna Allen, Amity Dry, Naomi Eyers and Paul Talbot. The standout numbers in the show included the opening track ‘Cautiously Optimistic’, which featured all five performers and was a little tongue in cheek, ‘Walk A Little Slower’ sung by Naomi Eyres and Paul Talbot was very touching, the ensemble piece ‘Everyone Has A Vice’, which succeeded in lightening the mood of the heavy-going first half, Johanna Allen’s ‘He’s Perfect’ which was delightfully cheeky, ‘Someone Elses Eyes’ on which David Harris’s vocals were given the chance to absolutely soar, and ‘I Can Be’ where Amity Dry sang beautifully from the heart.
Composer and Lyricist, Scott Evan Davis, takes on the role of Musical Director and Pianist in the production and plays beautifully against the mellowed tones of the Cello, superbly played by James Clark. Davis’s writing talents are indisputable, even reminiscent of Jason Robert Brown. I think some inspired direction that compliments the lyric, and even slight reordering of the numbers, could help to focus the big picture themes in the production. One to watch and one I would love to see again with a few more years and incarnations under its belt.
Paul Rodda
When: 14 to 15 Jun
Where: The Banquet Room
Bookings: adelaidefestivalcentre.com.au
Blake Bowden & Phil Scott. Adelaide Cabaret Festival. Festival Theatre. 14 Jun 2014
Phil Scott is the critic's dream. He does the job for us by reviewing his own show during its performance.
He rightly says that the show takes liberties and that Blake Bowden's beautiful tenor voice is still not Mario Lanza. He also says that the "old bloke" is lousy, which is not right.
The "old bloke" is one of Australia's cultural treasures and, if he knows piano and satire, he also knows how to craft a show.
The Mario Lanza bio show is a very neat piece of work.
Written with a light hand, it traces the singer's life from teen bloom, through Tanglewood tuition, a stint in the army and into the realms of MGM and doomed stardom. Lanza died at only 38 and, until today, the cause remains disputed. His rapid weight gain and loss was doubtless a factor and it is a phenomenon well played out in this lively hour-long production directed by Eamon Flack. That there may also have been a link with the Mafia is too juicy a suspicious to ignore, so it is in there, too.
The narrative is delivered by Lanza in exchanges with the main influences in his life, a panoply of characters all played by Scott who does quick changes in the half light of a smoky cabaret stage. In assorted garb, he also is the accompanist.
It is not a conventional bio show. It is more of a double act, since despite his clear artistic generosity, Scott is still a star in his own right. He does accents and amusing cameos, and lifts the entertainment value with some virtuoso piano business - so much so that one is tempted to wild imaginings of Liberace accompanying Lanza.
Bowden's voice is young and clean and pure and beautiful. He's a sweet tenor. He looks nothing like the late Italian he's embodying but he has the acting skill and Scott-driven chutzpa to convince the audience that it must be so.
And then there are the songs - the old hits and movie songs of the Lanza era. Nostalgia reigns.
It's a fine confection of musical history.
Samela Harris
When: 14 & 15 June
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: adelaidefestivalcentre.com.au
Adelaide Cabaret Festival. Her Majesty’s Theatre. 11 June 2014
‘Little Bird’ is a State Theatre production in association with the Adelaide Festival Centre and co-presented by the Adelaide Cabaret Festival. It is a new solo performance work and features the inimitable Paul Capsis, who is the perfect choice for the show.
The creative team includes the likes of Geordie Brookman (Director), Nicki Bloom (Playwright), Cameron Goodall (Composer), Quentin Grant (Composer/MD) and Geoff Cobham (Set & Lighting Designer). They are all celebrated award winners with impressive CVs and, with the support of other talented and well credentialed musicians, choreographers and sound designers one would expect a quality result.
The show looked striking: the set and the lighting were stunning, with surprise after surprise. The original songs were delivered with the usual style and idiosyncratic bravura that is the trademark of Capsis. The original music was masterfully performed by Belinda Gehlert (violin), Harley Gray (double bass), Jonathan Sickerdick (percussion) and Dylan Woolcock (guitar). And so on. All the production elements were as good as the State Theatre has ever managed. However, take all this away and what you are left with is the bare text, the story, the raw material with which the company must deal with, and unfortunately it is not robust stuff, and the show ultimately suffers because of it. The production elements needed to be first rate, and it needed someone like Capsis, otherwise the whole thing would have been tedious and trifling.
‘Little Bird’ is the story of Wren, a young boy, who is born to doting parents whose marriage ultimately breaks down leaving Wren in the care of his father. Eventually tiring of a sheltered and isolated existence, Wren leaves home and sets out into the wide world to discover himself. He falls in love, marries, and falls out of love. He makes the acquaintance of a cross-dressing ex-woodcutter (and this is where the narrative really takes a turn for the worst – surely Monty Python have said all that needs to be said on that subject!), and eventually the circle of life returns him back to where he started. It’s a story of self-discovery and it has been told many times in many different guises, and probably doesn’t need to be told again. Indeed, Bloom’s text offers us nothing new, and one member of the audience was heard to mutter ‘derivative’ as she left after the final curtain went down.
But, such misgivings aside, the production is strangely appealing. It was so easy to get lost in Capsis’ artistry, and the music, and the lighting, and the magical forest that appears on stage, and the house that deconstructs itself. It draws you in, and shuts the real world out for an hour, which feels longer, and the audience were demonstrably appreciative.
Kym Clayton
When: 6 to 22 Jun
Where: Her Majesty’s Theatre
Bookings: bass.net.au