University of Adelaide Theatre Guild. Little Theatre. 4 Aug 2018
Those eyes. Those eyes.
Goats do, indeed, have the most wonderful eyes and one ponders whether it was indeed in having eye contact with a gorgeous, intelligent goat which inspired Edward Albee to write this wildly shocking and also desperately funny play.
Matt Houston’s production in the Little Theatre balances these emotional extremes of the play superbly. Indeed, one does laugh and one also cries and, from time to time, the eyebrows leap up to hit the roof. But, mainly, one laughs.
It is not only the calibre of the four performers which hit the spot but the spot itself. The play takes place in a living room and the intimacy of the Little Theatre really intensifies the action in a way rarely achieved in a proscenium theatre. One seems to be right within the play.
The Goat is a tragi-comedy on the theme of how one bad choice in life can render absolute downfall.
Celebrity architect Martin believes he has the perfect marriage with Stevie. They are of the smug intelligentsia, a rather self-congratulatory couple with a gay teenage son. Then, one day, just as he is about to be interviewed for a TV show by his best friend, Ross, Martin gets terribly vague and distracted and everyone is asking why. Oddly, Martin has difficulty accepting why the news of his relationship with a country goat causes such emotional mayhem around him. And thus are the perspectives of love and humanity, bestiality and loyalty, and family played out in various levels of fury, debate, analysis, rage and bitter humour. It is a wild ride of a play.
Peter Davies plays Ross, the best friend and TV interviewer who is the first to discover "who is Sylvia". His role is all about incredulous shock and indignation and Davies plays it to an hysterical tee. Benjamin Quirk depicts the awkward and vulnerable teenage son, still treated as a kid by his self-absorbed parents. He is the collateral damage and Quirk brings home, complete with broken voice, the poignant impotency of watching a marriage collapsing in shards around one.
Gary George portrays mad Martin, the man whose complete collapse of judgement has created this domestic horror story. George embodies him as bald and bespectacled, a perfect candidate for a mid-life crisis. It is a toweringly torrid role fraught with moral and philosophical conflicts, all of which George delivers to the audience like clever slaps in the mind. There is much to think about.
It is Rachel Burfield who steals the show, however. She is the wonderful Stevie, the model bourgeois wife who has to come to terms with the unspeakable. Burfield’s pain and passion are visceral. It’s a sensational performance.
Indeed, with a simple and very practical domestic set and some perceptive lighting, this is a very classy production indeed - and emotionally rather enriching in an odd, Albee sort of way.
Samela Harris
When: 4 to 19 Aug
Where: Little Theatre
Bookings: trybooking.com
Pelican Productions. Norwood Concert Hall. 2 Aug 2018
It’s a corny old American high school musical about goodies, baddies, loyalty, integrity, jealousy and, rah, rah, rah, cheerleaders.
But, as it is played out by Pelican Productions in Adelaide, it is about South Australia’s talent pool. And here’s the big rah, rah, rah.
Our cup runneth over.
The young people in this large cast are bursting not just with ability but with discipline and dedication.
And the principals shine out with star quality.
This company has become a heartland for the cultivation and exposure of the upcoming generation of theatre workers.
The whole show has the glossy sheen of professionalism, from the orchestra to the sets, lighting and costumes.
The choreography finessed by Carla Papa is very bright and clever, many of the routines quite inspired combinations of good, accessible dance moves. Done with the sort of precision imbued in these many young dancers, they look really impressive. And, unfailingly, the stage is filled with performers with bright, uplifting smiles and eyes to the audience.
Behind the scenes are producers Jen Frith and Kylie Green with Adam Goodburn as director, Roseanne Hosking as vocal musical director and Peter Johns running the music. There are guitars and keyboards and drums beautifully balanced with the vocals.
Beyond the athletic ensemble work and the shows of acrobatics, there is the serious talent, the city’s upcoming awards potential. Sean Jackson was singled out for a Best Young Performer gig in the 2017 Pelican production and, once again, as the show trans, La Cienega, he is utterly engaging, a lovely personality thrusting forth amid the accomplished song and dance.
The principal female leads are Scarlett Anthony and Stephanie Cole who seem just about ready to step onto the Broadway stage; marvellous characterisations as the contrasting school rivals and top notch song and dance and even gymnastics from both.
Then there is Billie Turner who rises from geeky big girl to a veritable red hot mama; a powerful voice and personality.
Among the excellent supporting cast there shines Julian Perrini, Eve Green, Sophie Morris, Hannah Hamilton, Finnegan Green, Katie Olsson, Lachlan Zilm and Jack Conroy.
Watch for these names. They are going places.
And Pelican Productions, all power to them, are helping them to get there.
Three cheers.
Samela Harris
When: 2 to 5 Aug
Where: Norwood Concert Hall
Bookings: pelicanproductions.com.au
National Theatre of Great Britain. Adelaide Entertainment Centre. 31 Jul 2018
Oh, what a set. What a mighty set. The high-tech cube has landed and settled in to the Entertainment Centre Theatre space to perform its feats of visual acrobatics. This remarkable piece of theatre design represents the mind of boy who is on the high functioning end of the autistic spectrum. It extrapolates in images those experiences which sometimes most calamitously overwhelm the boy’s senses and sometimes those which are solutions to his thinking. It endeavours to give audiences a visceral experience of the mysterious other-world of autism.
The boy, Christopher Boone, is the subject of the Simon Stephens play based on the best-selling book by Mark Haddon. It is quite an extraordinary play, presenting some of its peripheral characters not so much as cameos but as silvers of persona, pop-up and incidental, as if glanced from the corner of the eye. It also presents city hordes in marvellously choreographed motions by the cast.
The world is shown as 15-year-old Christopher perceives it. He lives with his father and his pet rat in Swindon. He’s a maths savant. He can’t bear to be touched. He is afraid of crowds and strangers.
The dead dog, Wellington, who has been brutally impaled on a garden fork, is an impasse for him. His quest is to find out who killed the dog. It will be his detective novel in the style of his hero, Sherlock Holmes, he vows.
Finding out who killed the dog throws Christopher’s world into mayhem, causing him to set out for London, all alone, by train and tube.
Therein, the stage becomes a drama of trains and tubes, incredibly effective with glaring headlights and tunnels and sound and chaos. It feels epic. Like a latterday Candide, Christopher finds his way.
Themes of relationships with parents and teachers, with love and loyalty and honesty as well as courage, general knowledge and maths are woven into the play and the stage is busy with light and form and spectacle - none greater than when Christopher runs around the walls.
The agility and stamina of Joshua Jenkins in the role of Christopher is simply breathtaking. It is exhausting to behold, not only the torrents of stilted dialogue but also the desperate, screaming panic attacks. It’s tour-de-force stuff and, unsurprisingly, he receives a standing ovation.
The large supporting cast also come with all the creamy calibre of West End theatre, most prominently Stuart Laing as Ed, Emma Beattie as Judy, and Julie Hale as Siobhan.
The debate goes on about whether or not Christopher truly is meant to represent a person with Aspergers or elsewhere on the autistic spectrum. There are arguments that this work is just about a mathematician who is different. This all seems precious chatter when the play itself is such a spectacular voyage into that strange world. Anyone who has had a relationship with an autistic person will want to grasp onto the depictions of frustration and physical otherness delivered in this play, not to mention the agonising dilemmas of parents and teachers trying to keep such troubled souls calm and secure.
It is a sensational piece of theatre in anyone’s terms, albeit sometimes very loud and overwhelming.
Alas, for Adelaide audiences, there is the problem of the venue. Once again, the lack of raked seating in the stalls denies the audience full view of the stage and what goes on at foot level. In this production, the floor is a crucial area whereupon a miniature world is laid out. Sadly, this was not visible to many. The Entertainment Centre really should consider bleacher seating at the least in this otherwise fine theatre space.
Samela Harris
When: 31 Jul to 4 Aug
Where: Adelaide Entertainment Centre Theatre
Bookings: curiousincident.com.au
Independent Theatre. Goodwood Theatre. 27 July 2018
Sadness and joy. Therein lies a balance so delicate and beautiful that it has been the great creative quest of poets and composers. Or so asserts this marvellous musical two-hander by Jon Marans.
It explores the evolving relationship between a brash and disgruntled young American prodigy pianist and the ageing Viennese music professor intent on proving that one may be a better accompanist if one understands the music from the perspective of the singer. The singing lessons upon which Stephen Hoffman reluctantly embarks become, over time, a deep lesson in life and love as well as music.
This Pulitzer-nominated play lingers upon the poetry of Heinrich Heine and the Robert Schumann song cycle, Dicherliebe. It also focuses on the power of language and the complexities of being Jewish.
Professor Mashkan is not the great piano teacher Hoffman was targeting in his trip to Vienna to vitalise his stalled music career. Singing lessons from Mashkan, a quaint and curmudgeonly old fellow, come as an unwelcome surprise imposed upon him as a preparation for work on the piano.
The play is set in 1986 with the impending election of Kurt Waldheim and the tourism-related restorations of Dachau strongly colouring its background.
David Roach embodies the intriguing old professor in an extraordinary performance which grows and grows as the play slowly reveals more about the old man. Director Rob Croser has embellished this process with some exquisite touches, most particularly and surprisingly in scene links on the darkened stage. Roach mimes the piano playing and he is no great singer. He is, however, one of the fine actors of this city and this role is a jewel of a vehicle for him.
Ben Francis has the privilege of playing against him as the angry young American. Francis is a wonderful singer and he has to rein in this talent to portray a man for whom singing is a secondary skill. He does not downplay the emotional aspects of the recalcitrant student snapping and sneering disrespectfully until one wants to smack him. This extreme behaviour must be close to the bone since playwright Jon Marans has said this play is semi-autobiographical and he was right there among those on their feet applauding the performances on opening night.
But, for the audience at the end of the night, the play belonged to the pure profundity of Roach’s characterisation. It was his.
The first half of the production is fairly slow going, setting up the denouement with a great deal of musical exploration and explanation. The audience finds itself quite literally present at a series of music lessons. After interval, the narrative takes off and is absolutely gripping. No spoilers.
The protagonists take turns at playing the grand piano and the sound is quite convincing that this is so. However, the true musical expertise comes from offstage and the hands of the masterful Mark Sandon.
The play’s lighting is absolutely superb, thanks to Bob Weatherly, and the set by Croser and Roach is extremely lush and busy but quite perplexing with its giant white pillars and asymmetry.
Fortunately, it’s the performances that count, and they are indeed ovation material.
Samela Harris
When: 27 Jul to 4 Aug
Where: Goodwood Theatre
Bookings: independenttheatre.org.au
State Theatre Company. Space Theatre. 24 July 2018
As the audience sat numb, emotionally drained by the melodramatic denouement of the play, the players miraculously leapt up beaming with delight to take their bows. The audience erupted with whooping acclaim. It had been an intense and gruelling experience. The three characters had stalked the gates of hell as they made their gambits in the name of love and lust and loss and recrimination and revenge. The actors had reached into the deepest resources of emotional pain and turmoil. They had pushed their voices to the edge of endurance. They had wrung the last drop of dismay from the emotional cloth. They had, all three, produced tour de force performances and delivered the most awful Strindberg tale of the Creditors.
August Strindberg wrote the play in 1888. Duncan Graham has adapted it into a contemporary Australian context. It’s a sleek adaptation which retains the play’s dramatic integrity impeccably while sparking it with modern references and vernacular.
The plot itself was and is strange and convoluted. Set in an elite lakeside resort, it tells of artist Adolph and his writer wife Tekla in an encounter with Gustav, who turns out to be Tekla's embittered ex-husband. Adolph is famous but also insecure and highly strung. While Tekla is away, Gustav anonymously befriends lonely Adolph and pours psychological toxin into the artist’s perception of his happy marriage. The ensuing paranoia, jealousy and suggested illness throw the marriage into mortal conflict. The play is barbed and dark but, astutely directed by David Mealor, it is edged with humour and irony.
The debts to which the Creditors title refers are love and fidelity.
Peter Kowitz plays Gustav, the magnificently manipulative silverback ex-husband. His performance is not only expertly two-faced but also two-voiced as he firstly uses gravel-edged masculine authority to work on Adolph’s sensitivities and then softly submissive tones to apply Gustav's wiles to the ex-wife. It is a committed and engrossing performance. His Machiavellian expression at the play’s climactic moment is unforgettable.
The celebrated young Adelaide actor Matt Crook embodies poor Adolph, the vain and impressionable artist who loves his free-spirited wife too much. He is light of voice and limb in his depiction of this dupe, descending into petulance and despair. Of three pretty awful characters, his is the least likeable character. This is sharply paradoxical and one of the facets which give life and issue to the play.
It is terrible Tekla who steals the heart and the production. Caroline Craig devours this role with breathtaking dynamism. She is the light and dark of life, confident and coquettish at one moment and a tornado of righteous fury in another. It is a grand, dramatic character and she holds back no hue from her wonderful actor’s palette, one moment an elegant beauty, the next a virulent harridan.
Occasional piano strains tinkle through the production, more a commentary than a soundscape from Quentin Grant.
A third of the Space Theatre is used for designer Ailsa Paterson’s elegant resort setting. It has a minimalist Scandinavian feel, rattan summery decor, orange leather furnishings and a vast wind-ruffled lake projected beyond picture windows framed by boughs of eucalypt. An extremely esoteric stylised water jug downstage on a traymobile seems bottomless from the many glasses of water the characters pour, the refreshment one soon realises as much a necessity for vocal lubrication as for a handy prop. It is a vocally demanding play and one hopes that the sterling cast will see the season through without a croak. Best hasten in to see this passionate powerhouse of a production, just in case.
Samela Harris
When: 20 Jul to 5 Aug
Where: The Space Theatre
Bookings: bass.net.au