By April De Angelis. Pigeonhole Theatre. The Q Theatre. 31 Mar 2016
It’s been fifty years since the ban on married women working in the Australian Public Service was lifted; a fact that today’s young female bureaucrats would no doubt find inconceivable. However, such progress requires people to fight for it, and even when change comes it’s often hard going for the pioneers while society catches up.
And so it was in the 17th Century, when theatres in England opened their doors to actresses for the first time. While a step up for women at the time, this new freedom endowed upon them by no means made them equals to their male counterparts who had until then been impersonating them on the stage. Playhouse Creatures tells the story of five of these avant-garde heroines, as they struggle to gain a foothold in a male-dominated domain.
Through Mrs Betterton (Karen Vickery), the battle-scarred veteran at the end of her career; Mrs Betterton’s protégé Nell Gwynn (Amy Dunham); the young and cocky Mrs Farley (Jenna Roberts); the talented but jaded Mrs Marshall (Emma Wood); and theatre’s dogsbody Doll Common (Liz Bradley), one is given an insight into the immense challenges women endured both on and off-stage.
What is most inviting about Playhouse Creatures is the cosy and hospitable ambience created by set designer Christiane Nowak, lighting designer Kelly McGannon and solo cellist (and director) Jordan Best. The rustic warmth and rich sounds gently welcome and make one feel right at home, drawing one in to the characters’ stories.
The stories themselves, both the personal narratives and the ones the actresses embody in the otherworldly glow of the footlights, are fascinating and delivered with an abundance of witty, bawdy humour that thoroughly delights. Historical context is also woven throughout, giving deeper meaning and significance to the political undertones of this play as a whole.
One could not fault the performances of Vickery, Dunham, Roberts, Wood and Bradley, with each one of them utterly captivating in this superbly casted production. In fact, together they achieved the rarity that is the holy grail of theatre – they made it believable, which is really ironic considering they are playing struggling actresses.
After taking the time to absorb the message around women’s empowerment (or lack thereof) contained within Playhouse Creatures, it makes it all the more inspiring to acknowledge how wholly female it is – a story written by a woman about women, directed by a woman and with an all-women cast, something that upon reflection is not all that common even in 2016.
Playhouse Creatures is an intelligent, shining light of a production overflowing with heart and soul. It’s a wonderful homage to but a handful of the strong, brave women that came before us, who fought the battles that paved the way for current generations.
Deborah Hawke
When: 31 Mar to 9 Apr
Where: The Q Theatre
Bookings: theq.net.au
Shake and Stir Theatre Co and Queensland Performing Arts Centre. Canberra Theatre Centre. 9 Mar 2016
The gothic tale of Wuthering Heights bewitches and baffles me in equal measure – while the logical part feels that Catherine and Heathcliff are emotionally disturbed, co-dependent sadists, another more romantic part is seduced by their mutual passion and the lengths they go to in proving their points. It’s the car crash that you can’t bring yourself to look away from but, really, one shouldn’t judge their 19th Century derangement from the luxury of a modern day context.
Yet another skinny-jean and strine remake of a classic to grace the stage of the Playhouse in recent years, this production of Wuthering Heights has modernised the decadent garb (by costumer designer Leigh Buchanan) and language, but leaves the remainder of the story largely uncorrupted. Admittedly, it is a bit jarring at first to hear an Aussie twang in the place of a crisp British accent, but this becomes endearing when your expectations adjust.
For those unfamiliar, Wuthering Heights goes as such: Heathcliff is a wild gypsy child (played by Ross Balbuziente) adopted by the Earnshaw family of the Wuthering Heights estate. Heathcliff and his new sister, Catherine Earnshaw (Gemma Willing), form a close, obsessive relationship that ends up destroying themselves and everyone around them – the end.
True to the book, this production is narrated by Nelly Dean (Linden Wilkinson); the Earnshaw’s long-suffering and extraordinarily tolerant nanny. More like a lament, Wilkinson deftly connects the chain of events in articulate detail and keeps the story moving at a cracking pace. She is also creatively supported by projected images that introduce each character via living portraits and traces them as they gravitate around the story.
The task of capturing and recreating Kathy and Heathcliff’s intensity and turmoil is a big ask for any thespian. However, through some astonishingly brutal physicality and fervent cursing between the cast members, they have it assuredly in the bag. Willing is particularly impressive with her unabashed meltdowns and contemptuous use of choice language.
An indication of success for a performer playing Heathcliff is whether they make your blood boil, and Balbuziente does just that and then some – he is unspeakably savage and merciless, exactly as the role dictates. Tim Dashwood makes a regal and unusually camp Edgar Linton, while Nelle Lee as Frances Earnshaw/Isabella Linton/Linton Heathcliff and Nick Skubij as Hindley Earnshaw/Hareton Earnshaw are masterful chameleons in their multi-generational roles.
The elegant, multi-purpose set design by Josh McIntosh simultaneously captures the desolation of Wuthering Heights, the opulence of Thrushcross Grange and the haunting, foggy ambience of The Moors, transforming seamlessly between the locales. The inky, willowy curtains are a sophisticated touch, serving as both a screen for the ghostly projections and a conduit for the howling winds of those Moors. The best thing about the set through is that it gets just as messy as the emotions. Real feather pillows are shredded, rain falls from the sky and furniture is tossed about, really turbocharging the atmosphere.
All of this builds up to a delirious, disorienting finale that will blow your mind, only to leave you stewing in a bleak silence moments later as the winds blow eerily through the curtains of the empty stage. Overall, Wuthering Heights is sure to satisfy even the most tragic of romantics, possibly meeting one’s quota of drama for the remainder of 2016.
Deborah Hawke
When: 9 to 12 Mar
Where: The Canberra Theatre Centre
Bookings: canberratheatrecentre.com.au
Produced by Simon Painter and Tim Lawson. The Canberra Theatre Centre. 8 Dec 2015
With today’s cynical, post-modern audiences, it is surprising that anyone would even consider touring a magic show. But, the team behind The Illusionists have thrown caution to the wind, bringing their unique brand of entertainment back to the stage once more.
Rather than razzle dazzle with an edgier type of nouveau magic, The Illusionists instead pay tribute to the ‘golden age of magic’; the period between the late nineteenth and early twentieth century when the popularity of magicians was at its peak and the public was much more gullible.
With great conviction, the audience is promised at the very beginning of the show that they will see things they have never before witnessed on the Canberra Theatre stage, or any other stage for that matter. However, without having seen every magic show ever performed on the planet, this claim is difficult to verify.
Hosted by the charismatic Mark ‘The Showman’ Kalin, The Illusionists does feature a highly talented and diverse bunch of performers from across the globe. There’s Jinger ‘The Conjuress’ Leigh; Charlie Fry the eccentric juggler and acrobat; Krendl the escapologist; Thommy Ten and Amelie van Tass with their clairvoyancy routines; the outrageously funny comedic magician, Dana Daniels; and The Grand Carlini with his charming marionette.
The show is split into two acts, with both starting off light and breezy with card tricks and the like, and gradually building up to ‘the prestige’ each time around – with the able assistance of the live musicians to the sides of the stage punctuating each act.
Audience participation is also a strong feature throughout The Illusionists, with quite a decent number of apprehensive Canberrans plucked from the crowd to partake in various acts – some of them even coming close to stealing the show.
In defiance of the great challenge to thrill a contemporary audience with tricks that date back at least a century, The Illusionists is filled with captivating moments. When Thommy Ten sends Amelie van Tass levitating metres above the stage, one can’t help but feel a sense of child-like wonder – despite one’s adult brain whispering that there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Temporarily taking leave of your senses is actually crucial for being able to get maximum enjoyment from shows like The Illusionists. Of course there are secret methods behind each trick, but most are devised and executed so well that the illusion is fascinating enough in itself.
However, not all acts are based on illusion – that heart stopping moment when Krendl is in that Houdini-style water tank trying to escape after nearly four minutes is very real. Likewise, so are the magnificent juggling talents of Charlie Fry and the whimsical magic marionetting by The Grand Carlini.
What is equally enjoyable about The Illusionists though is the tongue in cheek moments that poke a bit of fun at the magic game, with the cast refusing to take themselves too seriously. This helps greatly with putting the audience participants at ease, as well as generating an overall spirit of light-heartedness – especially in those rare moments when the magic is briefly killed by a subtle mishap.
This is a fantastically entertaining show for young and old alike, with enough variety to tickle anyone’s fancy. It’s a wonderful opportunity to put the cynical part of your brain on ice for a couple of hours and just enjoy the pleasure of being marvelled – or even take part in the magic if you’re lucky!
Deborah Hawke
When: 8 to 16 Dec
Where: Canberra Theatre Centre
Bookings: canberratheatrecentre.com.au
By Chenoeh Miller. Little Dove Theatre Art. The Courtyard Studio. 2 Dec 2015
Entering the dim, surreal theatre space housing Evangeline is like walking into a bar in Twin Peaks. While white-faced, wild-haired women in red dresses repetitively gyrate and convulse to offbeat tunes, I half expect a little man to hobble over and whisper something abstract in my ear. Welcome to the world of butoh.
While I have seen butoh utilised before in other productions, it has always been as a passive observer. Evangeline is a wholly interactive take on the art form that gently invites you to immerse yourself into both the performance and the performers’ experience.
With an overall theme that tackles the experience of grief, Evangeline is a pretty intense ride in the beginning. The grotesque faces, violent emotions and adrenalin-provoking soundtrack flood your senses, stunning you like a deer in the headlights.
It is at the moment of greatest overwhelm that the audience is encouraged to literally reach out and touch the performers (Erica Field, Alicia Jones, Ruby Rowat and Peta Ward), who then respond organically in turn. These two world’s meeting is what makes Evangeline so fascinating to watch.
As some of the brave souls (including me) in attendance first approach the performers, they are hesitant. As in real life, it can be scary to reach out to people during times of turmoil and the experience during Evangeline is no different. But as their confidence grows they merge into some beautifully tender, even playful, scenarios and inspire others to give it a go too.
Essentially the performers serve as an emotional conductor, with the audience permitted to act out the innermost feelings and instinctive responses stirred up by the upheaval – and it is the most powerful and compelling theatre I’ve ever experienced.
It’s actually quite risky making audience participation a feature of a show, given the unpredictable nature of this kind of experiment. For many people, the thought of the audience becoming part of the show is enough to make them want to run away screaming – or at the very least paralysed in their seat. In the somewhat reserved capital of Australia, doubly so.
Fortunately the risk pays off – in large part due to the evening’s careful facilitation by creator, Chenoeh Miller – but also because of the intimacy of the setting that makes it feel safe for people to be emotionally present and vulnerable.
Equally though, one could not pull off such a feat without the talents of the performers. It’s hats off to Field, Jones, Rowat and Ward, whose borderline paranormal level of focus, as well as their own bravery and vulnerability made Evangeline such as privilege to experience.
As with Miller’s previous work, the distinct ambience she and her production team create is a strong feature. Although Evangeline has quite an avant-garde flavour, it lacks the accompanying alienation that it sometimes evokes in a wider audience. Quite the contrary, this work is highly accessible and engaging. The carefully crafted soundscape by Dane Alexander is especially memorable and plays a key role in the production reaching its full potential.
Evangeline is a show that Canberra would get to see once in a blue moon, and I really hope the public is ready for it. It’s a rare chance for people to get outside of their comfort zones and challenge themselves in a controlled but exhilarating environment. This is an experience too profound to miss.
Deborah Hawke
When: 5 Dec
Where: Continues at the Canberra Theatre Centre
Bookings: canberratheatrecentre.com.au
By Tom Davis. The Street Theatre. 22 Nov 2015
There’s certainly no shortage of Holocaust stories. Given the scale and nature of the atrocities inflicted on millions of people during World War Two, new works exploring this subject are still being produced to this day. The Chain Bridge, named after the bridge that joins the two sides of Budapest, is the latest to be added to this extensive artistic archive, though from a fresh angle.
Imre (Peter Cook), a young Australian-Hungarian writer, is struggling to finish a book about his mother, Eva’s (Geraldine Turner) struggles growing up in Hungary during the Nazi occupation and rise of Communism. However, some archival digging leads his wife Sarah (Kate Hosking) to believe Eva’s stories are fiction.
At a family dinner with Eva and her close friends Katalin (Zsuzsi Soboslay) and Jozsef (PJ Williams), Sarah, fearing for husband’s reputation, pulls a loose thread that slowly unravels Eva’s murky past. This then exposes a less palatable reality for all in attendance.
The build up in this production is slow and smouldering, with Eva, Katalin, Jozsef and even Imre literally dancing around the truth. One can’t help but share Sarah’s frustration as she pleads for a straight answer from the stubbornly evasive Eva and attempts to understand her husband’s reluctance to press the matter. Starting as a mere trickle, the dam wall concealing the real tale of this foursome gradually gives way to a flood of memories – going to dark and sordid places one never foresees; even in this context.
As a collective the performers form a deep and fearless connection, never shying away from the extraordinarily complex demands of their parts. While Cook and Hosking are both highly capable actors, the chemistry between them as a married couple is a little rigid to begin with. However, this dissolves as the intensity increases and they rise to the task of portraying other, more challenging characters.
Turner as Eva exudes all the assurance one would expect of an actor of her calibre, confidently lighting the way for the production through its shadowy twists and turns – with a convincing Hungarian accent to boot. Soboslay and Williams are sneaky as the married couple, Katalin and Jozsef – leading one to believe they are sweet but insignificant bit players, when suddenly their own intriguing story erupts, showcasing their astonishing range of talent.
The poetic script by Tom Davis is beautifully written, and legitimised with what appears to be extensive cultural consultation and input from members of the Hungarian community. It is clear that an awful lot of Davis’s heart and soul has gone into this labour of love, and it has been a fruitful collaboration with director Caroline Stacey.
It’s also the colour, movement and literally explosive sound (warning to those who startle easily!) by the creative team (Imogen Keen, Kimmo Vennonen and Gillian Schwab) of The Chain Bridge that makes it such a thrilling ride. Though the tension builds gradually there is nary a lull, with frequent, vivid transportation to the near and distant past always nipping at the cast’s heels.
What is really most fascinating about this powerful and strangely uplifting production though is its concluding philosophy. Without giving away too much, it is essentially about acknowledging the survivor behind a story and freeing them from the burden of history – allowing them to move on from the person that circumstances forced them to be. Bravo to all!
Deborah Hawke
When: 21 to 29 Nov
Where: The Street Theatre
Bookings: thestreet.org.au