State Theatre Company South Australia. Dunstan Playhouse. 28 Jan 2022
American Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? was a hit from the get-go. Albee made his name with a confronting play of prejudice – The Zoo Story – in 1959, and Woolf was his first full-length play. It opened on Broadway in 1962, winning the best play gong in both the Tony awards and from the New York Drama Critics’ Circle. Woolf wowed them again as Mike Nichols’ 1966 movie starring Richard Burton, Elizabeth Taylor, George Segal and Sandy Dennis; unbelievably, Nichols’ directorial debut. The film was nominated for 13 Oscars and won five. In other words, a must-see play/film.
Must you see this production? Not so sure. George and Martha, married for 23 years, arrive home tipsy after a soiree at Daddy’s, Martha’s father, who is head of the Ivy League university where George teaches history. As Martha announces, that should be an advantage for George, but it is the cynical George who is now history. A younger academic new to the place, and his wife, are invited from the party for a nightcap. They are the perfect audience for George and Martha’s psychologically dangerous and bitchy games where marriage is theatre. And when they tire of driving each other to despair, the guests are fair game. The action is fueled by hard liquor and shrinking inhibitions.
Words and rhythms and subtext are paramount in conveying Albee’s powerful word play of snakes and ladders, but director Margaret Harvey has introduced so many additional theatrical elements that the medium becomes the message. Albee discourages any forelock-tugging one might have done in reverence of the dominant white culture of academia by opening up its underbelly, but Harvey actually defocusses the target with what she calls “colour-conscious casting.” While casting in film is still largely true to description, this has been given up long ago in theatre. I have seen a dozen productions of Ibsen without a single Norwegian, so what does it matter if the actors are whatever ethnicity? When someone is described as older, and they look younger, or narrow-hipped and they’re not, or 185 pounds and they’re obviously less, well, so be it. And colour-conscious is not the same as “colour blind.” Television star Jimi Bani as George plays a George who is obviously of Aboriginal heritage (the dance in the water was a clear signal), as much as African Rashidi Edward playing the younger Nick is African. They aren’t black men playing white men, they are playing black men true to themselves. That’s good and different, but it seems like difference for difference’s sake and why is it about race?
Set designer Ailsa Paterson eschewed the older house described in the play and presents a modern idiom. The performers are within a Perspex box, sort of like an aquarium, except the water is on the outside - say a terrarium for the evening’s blood sport. The poor acoustics and random reflections were annoying. Thankfully, these transparent walls were flown away long before the end of the play. The repeated writing of the play’s title on a never-ending and dominating blackboard was distracting. The moat was a more interesting invention and sometimes useful. The sexually charged scenes were hot! And not normally on display, so that was good.
Director Margaret Harvey puts up with, or directs, a lot of shouting which unfortunately suppresses the required nuance, and the battle between Martha and George seemed more like checkers than chess. There were some wonderful positions (legs up post-near-coitus dysphoria) and juxtapositions, and inventive imagining conveying the more conventional stage directions (eg – doors, doorbell, bathroom, bedroom). Sound designer/composer Andrew Howard’s subtle drumbeat synchronised one’s heart with the dramatic tension.
Margaret Harvey in her notes describes her reasons for factoring in multiple reflections on race, but the production doesn’t comment on race simply by saying it does. It still should be about George and Martha.
David Grybowski
When: 27 Jan to 6 Feb
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: statetheatrecompany.com.au
A play by Richard Tulloch. Adapted from the books by Sam McBratney and Anita Jeram. 18 Dec 2021
It’s a nice touch as two ‘gardeners’ walk on stage before the lights go down. They take their time placing leaves onto the bare branches of a windswept tree, arranging the strappy leaves of floriferous plants, and hanging a huge acorn amongst the newly minted leaves.
The narrator begins, and it’s a bit shaky at first as the levels get sorted; we can’t really hear above the music. When it settles down, we’re introduced to Little Nut Brown Hare who is busily trying to waken Big Nut Brown Hare. After all, it’s summer and there’s so much to do! Unfortunately, Little Nut Brown Hare is just not big enough yet for all the things they want to do, as Big Nut keeps reminding them.
But like all short people, they go on and on until they get their way. And so, as the tree reflects the changing seasons, so too is Little Nut’s growth reflected. With each season’s ‘guess how much I love you’ comes a response that kindles Little Nut’s sense of adventure: “I love you all the way to the river! Can we go there? No. Oh all right”. Then on to the woods, and then the hills; the tree revolves, leaves change colour, and snow falls - autumn, winter and spring each bring a new and adventurous journey for the pair.
Costuming is just lovely; Drew Wilson’s Big Nut Brown Hare’s life size but puppet-like costume reveals the actor who cleverly navigates his way through the action, working seamlessly with Catherine McNamara manipulating the smaller puppet that is Little Nut Brown Hare. The narrator assists with bird, owl, caterpillar, butterfly and frog as Little Nut goes through the seasons and the milestones.
The cast are dressed in 1930s era boy’s clothing; trousers, suspenders and knitted vests topped with cloth caps, referencing a bucolic England, a time of innocence and simplicity.
The show ends rather suddenly but with the very familiar, ‘ I love you right up to the moon and back” which is a little difficult to get to, no matter how big you are!
The books and television series delight small children, and this show adds to that. It can get a bit repetitious in places and could probably use some bright dynamics or some interactivity to keep the little ones engaged. A half-hearted song needs work but for the most part the production entertains the chatty audience.
Arna Eyers-White
When: Closed
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: Closed
Adapted by Richard Tulloch from the book by Andy Griffiths & Terry Denton. CDP Theatre Producers. 14 Dec 2021
If you want to get an audience of 6 to 12 year olds involved from the get-go, farts will do it. Without fail. And lots of farts will get lots of laughs, especially different sounding ones. Yay for farts!
This adaptation of the first book in the Treehouse series (2011) opens with the theatre plunging into darkness. The kids are onto it immediately as Andy (Mathew Lee) and Terry (Teale Howie) flash their torches into the blackness, looking for each other and indeed the theatre itself. But wait! There’s an audience here! Why?!
Turns out that Andy and Terry have their dates wrong; this isn’t a rehearsal, it’s the performance! And Val (Rebecca Rolle), the ‘professional’ stage manager, wastes no time in letting them know what she thinks of ‘amateurs’!
Oh, dear. They haven’t rehearsed, there are no props, there are no other actors engaged and, oh yeah, they haven’t written the play yet! Mr Bignose will be furious and Val is horrified, but she rescues the day by suggesting that they use the book as a script, borrow some props and utilise the amazing ‘2D to 3D generator’. And so they do, introducing the loved characters and situations from the 13-Storey Treehouse. Terry paints Jill’s cat yellow, creating the catnary, and without other actors to help out, they persuade Val to take on the roles of Jill the neighbour (because Cate Blanchett had lost her voice), Bill the Postman (because Chris Hemsworth is having a band-aid removed under local anaesthetic) and so on.
Terry has made a start by drawing a finger, so there is no choice but to go with it, and Superfinger goes to the rescue – cue snot joke, and bodily functions wins again! Add in some Star Wars references, and you’re ticking all the boxes.
Lee and Howie play off each other brilliantly, including the young audience in their antics from the first torch light into the eyes. When Andy hypnotises Terry with a giant 3D banana (you had to be there) Howie shows off some great characterisations as he becomes a ballerina, a chicken and an idiot.
Rolle takes on her parts with gusto, with the ensemble working together smoothly on the simple girder construction set, and a couple of songs popped into the action doesn’t overly thrill the kids, but doesn’t really detract either.
The Treehouse books have become legend in the Aussie kids’ lexicon; any treehouse that boasts a bowling alley, a tank of man-eating sharks, a see through swimming pool and a secret underground laboratory has got to be a winner. The pair have gone OTT from day one with their books, and they’re now up to 143 storeys, with each floor getting wackier as the years go by.
Tulloch has adapted other books in the Treehouse series, but this is where it all begins. Although, as Barky finds out when he meets the gorilla, it was nearly where it all ends!
Arna Eyers-White
When: 14 to 16 Dec
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: ticketek.com.au
Adaptation by Tall Stories Theatre Company. 8 Dec 2021
Contrary to popular perception, children can be hard audiences. This is never more so than when familiar characters are presented to them in an unfamiliar way.
Over the past 20 years, Julia Donaldson & Axel Scheffler’s The Gruffalo has become a staple in the children’s fiction genre. The story of the mouse who goes for a walk in the woods and escapes various predators by inventing an even scarier one has Best Bedtime Story (because kids are okay with having the billyoh scared out of them) and Best Picture Book amongst its many awards, and quite deservedly so. The 2009 film version, a half hour animated production, was both Academy Award and BAFTA nominated, and delights both young and old. And who wouldn’t love a film/book that picks up a whole new audience every five years or so?
The Gruffalo is now also a stage production, giving youngsters yet another version of the story. And I say another, because stage shows have to work that little bit harder than film to capture the attention of the three years-plus crowd. That The Gruffalo manages it (for the most part) is a testament to an ensemble of hard-working actors and a remarkable creative team.
Onto the simple woodsy set (a couple of gnarled trunks, some rocks, logs and a moveable hollow tree) comes Mouse, played (and sung, and danced) by Sophie Kleinschmidt. It takes the little ones a moment to adjust to this creature until, with the aid of the Narrator (Joshua Whitten) she develops ears and a tail. “Oh, there’s Mouse!” cries Little Miss Three, settling back on the prickled spine of her Gruffalo costume.
Fox, Owl and Snake are the three predators who attempt to lure Mouse into their respective lairs. The three are played by Tomas Kantor who, with the aid of some snappy jackets and headgear, takes on the persona of each of these creatures. None are more delightful to the children than Snake, who turns up as a Latino / Mexican mash-up complete with matador jacket, mariachi sequins and appalling but hilarious Spanglish accent.
It’s touches like this that make the show different enough to attract the children’s attention, along with the bonus of songs, and lots of ‘em. It’s almost Gruffalo the Musical. It does mean the very little ones drift off and get a bit restless, but that’s to be expected in any audience this age. Keeping them involved is always tricky, and this production knows the best way to do so; make them part of the action by giving them their own part to play. Yeah, kids love to roar and frighten people; ask any parent. Here they get to do it in spades.
It’s also notable that the adaptation has recognised that for every child in the audience, there’s a matching adult, who will also be watching this show for an hour. Like many children’s tales these days (think Shrek, Toy Story et al.) there are enough double entendres and bons mots to keep the grownups chuckling along. Many of these are produced by Joshua Whitten as Narrator (and waiter, parrot, chicken, peacock, penguin and finally, Gruffalo) who has wonderful comic timing, at one point breaking the fourth wall to promote his varied skills and CV.
The rhyming narrative that is a feature of both book and film is not abandoned here but is tempered by the songs and physical comedy of the characters, which creates a new and different perspective to the tale. And while we know that Gruffalos love roasted fox, owl ice-cream and scrambled snake, who knew that the Gruffalo actually wanted to study art, and ancient Greece? Sadly, that’s NOT what Gruffalos do.
Arna Eyers-White
Where: Dunstan Playhouse, Adelaide Festival Centre
When: 8 to 12 Dec
Bookings: ticketek.com.au
Adelaide Festival Centre & AJZ Productions. Space Theatre. 1 Dec 2021
They feel unseen and unheard. Among those with disabilities, some are blind and deaf. But are able people also selectively blind and deaf by choosing what they see and listen to? In this moving, revealing and helpful locally produced world premiere, co-creator Kelly Vincent, co-creator/director Alirio Zavarce and the True Ability Ensemble have us meet disabled people wanting only a fair go, just with overcoming a curb or boarding a bus, let alone jobs and creative opportunities, or even simply an acknowledgement of dignity and presence. From 2010 to 2018, Kelly Vincent was a Member of the Legislative Council for the Dignity Party where she led changes for disadvantaged South Australians. Currently, from the comfort of your car during your daily commute, you will have noticed billboards with Alirio Zavarce instructing which rubbish goes in which bin. Behind that humour is a man who has dedicated his theatrical skills to creating new work in which those left behind by our society can tell their stories.
The opening number comprises some wildly kinetic choreography devised by two of the cast members, Jamila Main and Wren Dow. This is my first lesson – I was astonished that disabled persons that I assumed could hardly move danced in unison and syncopation sweetly unabashed. Indeed, I was ashamed that I accepted their initial presentation as a bunch of jittery zombies as plausible when it was a spoof. Beginning to recognise my latent prejudices – and I invite you to also dig deep and reflect on yours – I was ready to listen and learn. And God bless you if you already and always accept everyone as your equal.
Each cast member had their own idea or message for a showcase which was polished to performance quality by Zavarce. Wren Dow talked about “this body I live in” and showed with surprising agility how mobility aids mean freedom and not entanglement. Kym Mackenzie is one of many performers who trained, acted and sometimes toured with the disability-focused theatre company No Strings Attached (look them up). “Slow down” was his message. By now I am deeply moved with the gumption I’m seeing. Dion Allen hosted his TV parody, Wheel of Fortune, humorously but pointedly demonstrating how disabled persons are not listened to. Jamila Main has an unseen disability that occasionally confines her to a wheelchair. She was in the middle of formal acting training when laid low by this condition. What a hoot she gave her acceptance speech for the Academy Award for the Best Performance by an Able Person Playing a Disabled Person (eg Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man and Daniel-Day Lewis in My Left Foot). After filming each day, you can wipe off your disability with disinfectant tissue and walk home.
Jye Parry’s acting debut as an axe-wielding warrior looked impressive but the Darth Vader voice-in-the-helmet thing was difficult to understand. His real job is a designer in film, and his projected moving graphics were the ticket. “Am I a mutant” Ad’m Martin, with his disdain for the occasional vowel, offered his provocative poetry. Ad’m holds back more than he gives making him a man of mystery. Perhaps he was a little pissed off his electric wheelchair stopped operating only hours before the show, I would be.
Philippine-born Lucy Lopez Rivera sang a lovely song that no doubt reminded her of home, because it reminded me of the friendly Philippines and the widespread love of expression I encountered there. Rachel High showed her sassy saucy side and Justine van Eyssen implored some sensibility in her shtick. These live performances were interspersed with Zavarce’s filmed interviews of disabled people answering the question what it is like to be unseen. The responses varied from ironically funny to downright distressing, the casual and thoughtless slights disabled people endure are rife. In a live interview, the articulate Kelly Vincent called it “ableism.”
Using Vincent’s words, the performer-creators were “unapologetically themselves.” Zavarce and Vincent have done a terrific job in bringing this request of the disabled to the largely able audience – we are here, hello, talk with us, we are just like you. Bravo to bravery!
PS Can’t hear? No problem. The show is signed in Auslan (Australian sign language) for the deaf).
David Grybowski
When: 1 & 2 Dec 2021
Where: Space Theatre
Bookings: Closed