Gavin Roach. Holden Street Theatres. 22 Nov 2018
The seventh word out of his mouth is “penis”. It’s a wonder he held off that long.
Gavin Roach has a complicated relationship with his penis and he is here to tell us all about it, the long and the short of it, so to speak.
It’s 6.7 inches, actually. Above average. The global average is 5.5 inches. And, in case you’re wondering, imperial measurement is much preferred when dealing with boys’ dickies.
Wearing red jocks and socks which say “GAY”, Roach reaches back to narrate his early childhood penile discoveries and his gradual adventures into gay sex. He tries desperately to make his dismal encounters seem funny and he evokes a few laughs, but the more he confesses, the sadder the audience becomes. His above-average organ just won’t play ball with the big wide orgasmic world. Every time he manages to bring a man home, he runs into the bathroom and does a little “man in my home” dance to the mirror. This may be his problem. He’s used-up in private celebration.
He does not bring too many men home. He says he’s grateful if anyone will follow him home.
He gives no hint to any other aspect of his life. He has not compensated with any other interests. He has just given up.
It is a pretty heartbreaking monologue.
But when it comes to bravery, it deserves an award.
And it deserves generosity, for one may be sure that he is not the only man in the world with erectile dysfunction and that others hearing his tale will feel immense solace.
Samela Harris
When: 22 to 24 Nov
Where: Holden Street Theatres
Bookings: holdenstreettheatres.com
House of Sand. Holden Street Theatres. 22 Nov 2018
Oh, how feminism has changed. I don’t know whether I am happy or sad about this new expression of the feminised cultural landscape. I am grinding my teeth and smiling at the same time.
This is just the sort of reaction director Charles Sanders seeks in his House of Sand production of Revolt. She said. Revolt Again.
This is wildly, screamingly, emphatically unsettling theatre.
It is thrown up by a new wave of feminist fury and off the pen of British playwright Alice Birch.
Like its cumbersome and grammatically confusing name, Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again is something of a great big, upset applecart. It is an unravelling of feminist ires and indignities, sorrows and fears that have lain, many of them, so deeply veiled in the psyche that we women didn’t realise they were there.
We laugh, we cry, we celebrate, we mourn and sometimes our spine crawls as we experience this astonishing affront of theatre.
It is not for everyone. My companion was so appalled that I don’t think she will ever want to come to the theatre with me again.
Rightly, Alice Birch is being celebrated as the world’s new theatrical provocateur. She’s just in her 30s and the world simply can’t find enough ways to acknowledge her bombastic arrival on the world stage.
As presented by House of Sand, this South Australian premiere production is as elegant as it is grotesque.
The set of long white veils boxing an interior stage sings purity and beauty but, as its first length is ripped off, it presents a handsome young couple, home from a formal evening out. He wants to make love to her. He assumes his attentions are flattering and pursues torrents of declarations of his lusty intentions. She, on the other hand, dares to suggest the operative making-love word is “with” and not “to”. He will agree to anything; he just wants sex. She withholds, taunts and asserts the power of her body until with her (stunning) cocktail dress rucked around her hips, she has asserted vaginal supremacy over mere man in a way that makes the mighty Lysistrata look like a kitten. It is a brilliant scene, powerful and funny and also very sad. And, it is supremely well performed by Eliza Sanders and Richard Hilliar.
As the scenes of Revolt unfold, the strands of the giant white curtain are stripped away until there are none and the play works around a white tiled central area. The theme of female disempowerment and fightback roars through the scenes, all of them wildly wordy and confronting. There’s a strange hesitance in the dialogue, a holding back before the ensuing eruptions. There are simple examples of women’s sense of self, the conflicting expectations for a lesbian marriage, for example. There’s corporate obstinacy. There’re the ravages of yesterday’s sexual violence revealed as the emotionally crippled collateral damage of following generations. There’s the female victim trying to find emotional immunity in rationalising some sort of personal choice; the guilt of the rape victim. These emerge as metaphors and allegories, some surreal and some in-your-face.
Together, they dig through layers of blood-pouring, child-bearing, choice-less submission in a storm of often revolting revolt.
There are reiterated references to potatoes and watermelons, to lack of understanding, to choices and bluebells; common strands the audience must strive to link.
It is not pretty but, with Sanders’ astute direction and the complementary mindset of designer Stephanie Howie and Sophie Pekbelimli on lighting, its aesthetic reaches moments of high art.
The cast is extraordinary: five brilliant and committed players. Add to Sanders and Hillier the enigmatic power of Amy Victoria Brooks, the wide-eyed passion of Enya Daly and the veteran authority of Fiona Press and you have a stage of disparate peers joined in a fearless cause.
This is a cage-rattling piece of theatre and a jewel in the crown for Feast.
Samela Harris
When: 22 Nov to 2 Dec
Where: Holden Street Theatres
Bookings: holdenstreettheatres.com
University of South Australia School of Creative Industries/Tutti Arts. 17 Nov 2018
Earshot is a ballad opera with a unique music-based historical foundation to its subject; WWI and the musical instrument known as a phonofiddle, of which only two exist in Australia.
Director/writer Russell Fewster was bequeathed a phonofiddle by his late father. An instrument combining the length of a cello, strings played with a bow, and a horn base. It was fashioned in the trenches of WWI by an unknown soldier.
From this inspiration Fewster and Musical Director Richard Chew have written a book and score in which popular French music of the era and the sound of the phonofiddle serve a dual purpose; giving life to the spirit of the time and drive to the search of blind musician Sarah (Annika Hooper) who seeks the lost grave of her Grandfather on the Somme.
Sarah’s struggle is hindered and helped by a Parisian Priest (Rob MacPherson). What keeps her going is the music of the phonofiddle and guidance from the ghosts of dead soldiers.
Fewster’s direction is sparse and simple, on an equally sparse set design. The music is the central focus of this production, and that is tightly maintained and amplified by Hooper’s strong, driven character, supported in song by soldiers David Bailht, Brenton Shaw, Declan Hart and James Skilton along with nurses Lauren Williams and Hang Zho.
Projected film backdrops of Flers AIF burial ground enhance the ghostly, musical experience of the production immensely in which stage action followed on in film, takes the work to another plane entirely.
Earshot is an introspective, considered meditation on The Great War from a place that is deeply personal as it is universal in a quietly understood, reserved manner untrammelled by louder, brash expressions of national identity which do not much admit of humble human reality.
David O’Brien
When: 11 to 18 Nov
Where: Hartley Plsyhouse, UniSa Magill Campus
Bookings: trybooking.com or Tutti Arts, 8422 6511
Adelaide Repertory Theatre. Arts Theatre. 16 Nov 2018
It’s Agatha Christie. You know what you’re getting: an intriguing puzzle of a whodunit charmed up with some frightfully suspicious English characters.
Under Adrian Barnes’ direction, this famous Christie classic arrives as a big, clean, handsome production properly peopled by toffs and oddballs, all with something to hide. Barnes has assembled a suitably eclectic cast led by the creamy senior David Haviland as the nasty old “hanging judge" stranded with an unlikely house party on a luxury island off the UK coast. All the guests have responded to specially personalised invitations, hardly expecting that they are there to be systematically eradicated in ways hinted by the rhyme of the Ten Little Soldier Boys. Symbols of the boys dominate the set in an eloquently illuminated art array and, between murders, the trilling voice of Pat Wilson sing-songs the riddles of the upcoming eliminations, one by one until there are none.
And off they go, by syringe or falling statue, fates tailor-made for the characters. Who is doing it? Christie keeps the audience guessing, and even those who say they have read the book seem to be in suspense.
The performances are solid quality, particularly that of Rachel Williams in her haughty British pace. Simon Lancione is deliciously cocky as the dubious young soldier of fortune so sure he is immune as a murder victim because he is carrying a gun. Wayne Anthoney is all gruff pomposity as the elderly general while Lindsay Dunn is suave and formal as the disgraced medical specialist and Peter Davis lights up the stage yet again, this time as the not-South-African private investigator. Ever a dependable actress, Julie Quick is eminently stuffy as the mean-minded old spinster. Apt performances also from Mark Drury, Thomas Filsell, Kyla Booth and Stanley Tuck, not to mention the sound and lighting crew for the wild electrical storm which has audience members leaping out of their seats.
Samela Harris
When: 16 to 24 Nov
Where: Arts Theatre
Bookings: trybooking.com
St Jude’s Players. St Jude’s Hall, Brighton. 15 Nov 2018
Few opportunities arise to see this musical, probably because it is a very tricky musical to produce.
St Jude’s has taken the bull by the horns, or at least the sword to the windmill, and turned on a very ambitious production indeed.
The set really is something to behold. That they can engineer such a strong two-storey structure on that little stage, not to mention a staircase lowered between the levels; fantastic. Musical director, living legend Pat Wilson, sits tucked away way up there with the keyboard. Who knows what else lurks in those dark and lofty rafters? The huge cast walks across the heights and beneath them and, mid-stage, over a very complicated tiered set-up. Then, to make the whole thing really grand-scale, the stage is expanded as well. Set designer Don Oakley has outdone himself.
Cast members come in and out of the auditorium doors and swarm effectively everywhere as they unfold the saga of Cervantes' dear demented Don Quixote chasing his delusions across the Spanish landscape, seeing nobility in rogues and beauty in squalor.
The ensemble is a wonderfully mixed bunch of actors and they work together as keen as a pack of puppies. Their energy and focus is impressive. They pull off a brilliant fight scene. Indeed, there are some spectacular and very effective group moments, not the least of them the terrible gang bang of the peasant girl, Aldonza, whom Don Quixote sees as the aristocratic Dulcinea. Billie Turner’s big voice and bright red lipstick bring this hapless soul to vivid life.
There are splendid effects such as the horse and the ass and a number of excellent cameo performances, particularly Tom Fraser as the padre and Tegan Muller as the belly-dancing gypsy girl.
Wade Shiell plays a solid Sancho Panza alongside Graham Loveday, who creates a very sincere and committed character in poor Don Quixote.
Rob Jones, Aslan Storm, Malcolm Calvett, Andrew Smith, Steven Lengyel, Gavin Lloyd-Jones, Tristan Anleu, Fiona Doroch, Berny Abberdan, Maria Davis, Bronwyn Calvett are among the glorious hordes and assorted characters who sing and dance and fight their way through this tale of the16th Century while the kettle drum rattles out insistent tempos, the trumpet sounds, and the beloved old score is delivered.
The singing is up and down but it is an extremely earnest, workmanlike production from a wonderful community company directed by Max Rayner. See it, if you can.
Samela Harris
When: 15 to 24 Nov
Where: St Jude’s Hall
Bookings: stjudesplayers.asn.au