Adelaide Repertory Theatre. Arts Theatre. 5 April 2018
You would have to be brain-dead to not have seen the handmade humanoid in some media form or another. Mary Shelley wrote the short story - which became her novel - to pass the time on some dark and stormy nights in Switzerland in the company of holiday makers that included her lover, and Lord Byron.
Director Kerrin White claims to have read the novel several times and says that the play is far more true to the book than the 1931 Boris Karloff movie that most older people are familiar with. So forget the hunchback, the criminal brain conundrum and all that electricity. Also delete Mel Brooks's Young Frankenstein black comedy starring Gene Wilder from 1974. English playwright Nick Dear's adaptation was first produced by the Royal National Theatre in 2011 and White is proud to never have seen that. So the design of White's production has blossomed from his theatrical brain without that encumbrance.
Dear imbues the script with a modern vernacular that is most amusing against the pre-Victorian anachronisms. The monster is abandoned by its creator rather flippantly and his journey of failed and frustrated personal growth becomes another version of one of the world's greatest stories - the son searching for the father, just like in Star Wars. Along the way, the thought-provoking questions the monster asks of the society he find himself in, and the violent reactions towards him, suggested the white/Aboriginal cultural gulf of perpetual misunderstanding, but I may have been reading too much into it.
And the star of the show is...Steve Parker! I was fortunate to see Parker's Captain Kirk in a Star Trek spoof back in 2006, where he displayed virulent audacity and comedic virtuosity. Here his corpulent monster (often asking for food, of course) is physically powerful and erratically dangerous as he tries to subdue a brutishness caused by rejection, with the liberal arts lessons received from a blind benefactor; he is manic, curious, unpredictable and bloody watchable. Bravo! Empathy for the monster fades, though, in this play where the Rep has broken new ground in nudity, sex and violence (quelle horreur!).
Patrick Clements's Victor Frankenstein, the creator of the creature, has a very complex personae populated with Asbergian agendas, that is foiled by his fiance's fetching simplicity (played with consistency by Rosie Williams). "If you want to create life, here I am!" she says. Of great interest is the psychological battle between creator/father and son, which might also be happening this very moment in your household. You would never guess the ending - every parent's nightmare.
The rather filmic style of the play presents challenges for the stage and budget, which Kerrin White's design copes with most the time, but not always. A few scene changes were off putting with all the commotion. Highlights, though, were the opening tableau (shocking!) and an ethereal vignette where young William Frankenstein (played beautifully by child actor Charlie Zorkovik) appears out of nowhere to torment Victor in a dream scene. White also utilised moving image backdrops to extend mood or interpretation.
Director Kerrin White has skillfully stitched together and breathed life into his creature. Go for the philosophical questions that are thrown up, and for the fascinating monster Parker provides.
PS White is working his way through the monster catalogue, having directed Dracula in 2014. So I guess the next monster show will be about Trump?
David Grybowski
When: 5 to 14 Apr
Where: Arts Theatre
Bookings: trybooking.com
Presented by John Frost & Suzanne Jones. Adelaide Festival Theatre. 5 Apr 2018
There is a wonderful sense of returning to one’s childhood when watching The Wizard of Oz.
A youthful innocence is rediscovered; long forgotten by the responsibility and busyness of life. At almost 120 years old The Wizard of Oz is easily one of the most universally recognised tales; it has “worked its way into the public consciousness completely”.
But there is something about the nature of a memory that always seems to outperform truth. It is as if our memories exist on pedestals, from where they can only fall when confronted with the harsh light of reality. This reworked production of The Wizard of Oz falls somewhere in between.
The show is visually stunning, yet it feels tentative; the cast is well drilled and sound wonderful, but appears to be holding back; the story has a knack for making one's soul smile, yet the plot holes are left unplugged and the old girl is showing her age. In its own right, this is a delightful little musical. Held up to modern offerings like Matilda it feels shallow and leaves us wanting. Yet one must remain faithful the 1900s tale, and so this dilemma.
The original L Frank Baum story has been adapted for multiple mediums hundreds of times over the years, but the most memorable and commercially successful has always been the 1939 film starring Judy Garland as Dorothy. For this latest incarnation, director Jeremy Sams identified the ‘gaps’ in the original Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg score and, with the permission of Warner Bros., engaged Andrew Lloyd Weber and Tim Rice to write some new lyrics and musical numbers that would help to flesh out the existing narrative. For the most part, these additions and adaptations are a wonderful success.
With the assistance of choreographer, Arlene Phillips, set and costume designer, Rob Jones, sound designer, Mick Potter, lighting designer, Hugh Vanstone and orchestrator David Cullen, Sams set about recreating the wonder of the film and the beauty of the story on a modern stage for both young and old. Technology has done it a huge favour.
Most impressive amongst the big budget effects are spectacular projections (Jon Driscoll) and lighting techniques which elevate the story through a stunning lightning storm, earth shattering twister, imposing Wizard sequence, and a flying-monkey kidnapping. Film truly meets stage when the clever sets are layered with these projections and live action interacts to add both physical and emotional depth.
Of the performers, Anthony Warlow brings the goods in his dual role of Professor Marvel and the Wizard; particularly in his performance of Bring Me a Broomstick where his gorgeous tonal qualities are abundant, but also though his stunning characterisations. Lucy Durack and Jemma Rix, as Glinda the Good and the Wicked Witch of the West respectively, both deliver measured performances with the content available to them; their potential feels a tad underutilised in this production however. Rix’s rendition of the new number Red Shoes Blues is definitely a highlight. Newcomer Samantha Dodemaide, who takes on the pivotal role of Dorothy, looks and acts the part wonderfully, but doesn’t reach the vocal heights of her fellow cast mates. Overall vocal sound levels were too low on opening night, particularly in the first half.
Eli Cooper as Scarecrow, Alex Rathgeber as Tin Man, and John Xintavelonis as Lion, are all incredibly funny and take every opportunity to ham it up. The exceptionally tight ensemble delivers sharp chorography that elevates the visual spectacle of the show.
The original production is faithfully intact, and the new songs such as Home Is a Place in Your Heart tidy up the ‘why’ that originally felt under-explored. This, combined with the technological modernisation of the production, and its new translation to the stage, have elevated The Wizard of Oz to a new level.
Whether or not that level sustains the production for the next generation of musical theatre audiences who have the likes of Book of Mormon, Wicked, or The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time to compare it too, remains to be seen.
Paul Rodda
When: 1 to 29 Apr
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: wizardofozthemusical.com
Her Majesty’s Theatre. 24 Mar 2018
There have been countless nights of triumphant applause and standing ovations in the dear old Her Majesty’s Theatre in Grote Street over its 105 years.
The biggest ovation of its last night came for one who had the longest history of treading its boards: Phyl Skinner, Australia’s Last Vaudevillian is aged “ninety-five and a half” she told us.
Still vivid, vivacious and alive with the “business” of the theatre, the red-headed nonagenarian reminisced about the blue and pink stage lighting used to make dancing girls look prettiest when she was a gal. She was only 5 when she first set foot on that stage as a snowdrop. Adelaide’s Mr Showbiz, Peter Goers, in the role of the theatre’s Closing Benefit story-teller, gently interviewed Miss Skinner about Roy Rene aka Mo, George Wallace, WC Fields and other legends of the past before Miss Skinner brought the house down and then thunderously to its feet with the classic old “pith-taker” routine.
She was the true star of the night and everyone knew it. She was a precious living connection to the continuity of the theatre through its life both as Her Maj and the Tivoli.
The benefit gala marks the end of its life in its present form. It will re-open in two years with its capacity increased by the restoration of its old “gods”, the second-tier balcony, as well as new foyers and bars, lighting towers, dressing rooms and an expanded stage ready to accommodate the biggest and most bedazzling of travelling musicals as well as local productions. Fundraising continues for this visionary Renewal Project (hermajestystheatre.org.au).
As its patron, Barry Humphries opened the Closing Benefit with a heartfelt video message on behalf of “the Grand Old Dame of Grote Street". And then it was up to veteran newsreader Jane Doyle to MC the show which had been superbly directed by Adelaide’s beloved cabaret star Johanna Allen.
The whole production ticked over like a Rollex watch.
And what a lineup.
The amazing perfect pitch of Ali McGregor, director of the Adelaide Cabaret Festival, got the show on the road. Wearing a divine bling of green complete with feathers, she launched into an exuberant rendition of Carousel. The mood was set. It was going to be a good night.
While the orchestra occupied most of the stage, a wee faux dressing room sat as a symbolic set OP, the mirror of which was so artfully placed that throughout the performances it worked as a window onto further views of the action.
Jane Doyle’s stately ball gown costume was very much in the “Grand Old Dame” spirit, complete with fur stole and tiara while Michaela Burger burst onto the stage in a shimmer of bugle beads, her mighty Broadway voice belting out I’m the Greatest Star but no one knows it. Star indeed, bright and new and now we all know it.
Phyl Skinner was a hard act to follow but Robyn Archer’s Brechtian elegance did the trick with the song Bilbao, Michael Morley sublime behind her on the piano. Old Adelaide class at its best.
And then it was time for Nancye Hayes. The audience went wild. With a poster projected aloft from the original Sweet Charity production in which she starred as a bright young talent, she reiterated the iconic song If They Could See Me Now. In a stunning salmon slack suit with full flowing trousers, she showed that 75 is the new 60 in terms of fluid dance moves.
And, punctuated by the Doyle commentaries, the show surged on.
Tim Rogers whizzed in performing in a snazzy crushed velvet jacket and Cameron Goodall, looking very schmick in pony tail and dark suit, did a sizzling medley of songs from rock stars who died in plane crashes, reminding us that he’s as brilliant at mimicking singers as he is at playing Hamlet. Rob Mills doesn’t do Hamlet. He does Neighbours. But he’s a heartthrob and a charmer and a funny fellow and a Sinatra-style crooner. You’re Nobody Until Somebody Loves You, he sang, forgetting words, bringing on an audience member and then dismissing her in favour of a Tinder chance and the audience laughed and loved him to bits.
Johanna Allen joined him onstage for a Wicked duet in which he was entirely sidelined as Glinda, no Galinda, the good witch. All good fun, Johanna in a glitter of black gown and a radiance of full voice.
The champagne-drinking interval throng bubbled with enthusiasm, chatting about the good quality of the night’s sound and the sense of occasion with which the lighting designer had imbued the event. The audience itself reflected the sense of occasion. It featured an outstanding array of Adelaide’s glamorous women in splendid raiments, along with the famously beautiful actress Loriel Smart and the grand dame of beautiful Adelaide drag queens, Rouge, in a blaze of red sequins.
More sequins tottered out of the audience after interval. It was the sensational cabaret star Meow Meow, making her chaotic comedy entrance for a performance which, for the lack of a row of chorus boys, featured Cameron Goodall, Rob Mills and Tim Rogers shimmying giant fans as she strutted her stuff in French. After a big ending on the shoulders of Mills, with an explosion of glitter, she sang The Song Goes On while sweeping the detritus from the stage before simply wandering off into the wings.
Goodall had the tough call of symbolising all the serious theatre, the theatre of words, which has inhabited Her Maj over the years. Actors such as Laurence Olivier, Lauren Bacall, Maggie Smith, Googie Withers, and Angela Lansbury are among the great actors who had stood where he stood. He performed The World’s a Stage from As you Like It, pulling out his iPhone on a dry line and then improvising a gem of comic capital by having a parting “selfie” moment.
MC Doyle turned up with a change of gown and a pitch for dollars for the Renewal Project before Nancye Hayes returned, also in a different outfit to charm the audience with I’m Still Here. Then it was Peter Goers’ getting to the heart of the showbiz business, with a reverie of the memories which linger in Her Maj cum the Tiv. Lists: Tintookies, Pippin, JC Williamson, Ralph Richardson, Toni Lamond, Roy Dotrice, Spike Milligan, Gordon Chater, Lauren Bacall, Jack Davey, Hair, Bobby Limb, Robert Morley, Peter Cook, and Dudley Moore. He acknowledged the uncelebrated denizens of the working theatre, the techs and mechs and ushers. He ignored the professional audience members, the stalwart critics, those scribblers in the dark who work unloved to keep the great moments of the theatre alive for the record books. Oh well. Let the record of the record-takers sit here.
Then it was back to the music. Johanna and That Old Black Magic, the stunning Ali McGregor in a confection of red hot mama red costume, her voice, oh, her voice, virtuoso, breathtaking. Can anyone have such a range?
The beautiful band played on, under Mark Ferguson’s direction. Tim Rogers returns, another message from Humphries, give money, give money, and then the song and dance cast assembles on the stage for a grand finale… streamers, cheers, standing ovation…
And then the curtain came down.
On an era.
Samela Harris
When: 24 Mar
Where: Her Majesty’s Theatre
Adelaide Festival. Grainger Studio. 16 Mar 2018
Art comes in many forms. This, our history of festivals has shown us. And no “show” emphasises this more than Freeze! - an event whereby a young Dutchman does nothing but balance rocks one upon the other.
Rock balancing has been emerging as a rather elegant phenomenon by creeks and rivers around the USA.
There was and may be still be a rock artist one could watch at Sausalito. And, amid the rushing currents of the Chattahoochee River in the Appalachians, there are little islands adorned with miraculous towers of perfectly balanced rocks, simply left there for the beauty of it.
Hence, the arrival of Nick Steur delivering rock balancing as performance art in Adelaide is just a lovely, lovely thing.
At the Grainger Studio, he greets his audience before their admission, requesting that they turn their phones off and not only silent. A vibrating phone is not good for the rocks. He asks that everyone be utterly silent, also. But, he recommends that they walk around a bit to see the works from different angles.
No chairs are supplied in the studio. People sit on the floor around a stage which is lined with rocks of various shapes, sizes and mineral composition. There is a lot of granite, quartz and serpentine. There are metamorphic rocks and feldspar.
What there aren’t are smooth water-worn rocks. Steur likes rough, angular rocks. The more acute, the better.
A series of posts are arranged upon his stage area and, one by one, he adorns them with perilous balances of rocks.
He dispels any suspicions the audience may have about prepared rocks by silently indicating that audience members choose and hand him a rock. Sometimes he requests three rocks at once. He rests one on his shoulder, puts one in his pocket and then concentrates on settling the other one atop the hollow pole. This is very slow, considered, patient.
It may take many attempts until the rock rests comfortably. Then he introduces the next rock, turning it in all directions, fondling its peaks and corners before choosing which challenging angle to balance. He seems to choose the most unlikely point and then hold the rock in place, gently, gently resettling it, holding it, focusing intently on it, meditating upon it, willing it to stay.
Gently, gently, he removes one hand, watching the rock carefully. Then, the other hand, withdrawn softly, softly, softly. And he steps back and scrutinises the balance. Once satisfied, he moves on to the next pole and the next rocks.
He walks around his square of stage with one hand extended awaiting the gift of a rock.
The audience is mesmerised. Respectful. Silent. Some are keen to choose rocks. Some have brought rocks. Some are happy just to sit and gaze. Some tiptoe steadily around the room smiling at the wonder of it all.
After about 45 minutes, when all the rock poles are occupied by a wonderment of perilous rockery, Steur stands back and bows.
No photos, please. And don’t go near the rocks. They are simply balanced there and could fall at any time.
Respect is paid.
The audience is well pleased with the gentleness of this experience.
Samela Harris
When: 15 to 22 Mar
Where: Grainger Studio 15, 16 Mar;
Botanic Gardens 17, 18 Mar;
Kangaroo Island 20 to 22 Mar
Bookings: bass.net.au
Kotryna Gesait. Adina Apartment Hotel Adelaide Treasury Tunnels. 15 Mar 2018
Descending the steps into the bowels of the Treasury, one is cocooned by the narrow and brilliant whitewashed corridors. The players - dressed in white - greet us with warm and welcoming smiles; I thought maybe I'd gone to heaven.
The play comprises a number of emotionally charged vignettes of tangled love, and if not one of them sounds familiar to you, then you have never got in over your head with another person and probably think that's a good thing.
In the first, Phoebe Taylor's character loses control at first sight and suffers palpable disappointment and humiliation over unrequited love.
Beckoned to the next chamber, actors Jacinda McLaughlin and William Servinis (in his triumphant live theatre debut), play adolescent lovers so completely misunderstanding each other that one is sent immediately back to high school recollecting similar frustrating and awkward stand-offs.
Roy Barker's The Relover just got comfortable exalting in his "homo-normal" relationship when the rules change and he tells us how he copes. Having The Relover's partner on stage - instead of just hearing the story - would have been an improvement.
But the best is saved for last, in the furthest subterranean chamber where there is nowhere else to go, when we witness Cindel Waddington and Claire Sara's infatuants wrestle with their feelings the morning after the first night together. Here Gesait's writing reaches crescendo in the hands of these two actors who, when they are not expressing their awe of each other, expose their characters' insecurities with their Beckettian inner voice.
Indeed, all performances are similarly successful thanks to Gesait's direction in the use of body language and non-visual communication, coupled to a welcoming vulnerability. One is entirely convinced that the stakes are very high in these arenas of love in all its forms.
For me, this show is a profoundly moving experience, compelling me to recall love affairs, to conjure feelings forgotten, and to make me think how terribly comfortable and smug I've become in my older age and my marriage. The players invite a little playful interaction and this breaks down the fourth wall barrier fast, facilitating emotional involvement.
With willing and deep engagement, it's not possible to come out of the tunnels without considerable self-reflection. Bravo!
David Grybowski
5 stars
When: 14 to 17 Mar
Where: Adina Treasury Tunnels
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au