Too Giant an Undertaking

Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely

A complex, wordy play about the inner machinations of the Australian Labor Party in the early 80s may seem like a risky choice for the first outing of new Belvoir Artistic Director, Eamon Flack, and it is a risk that fails to pay off.

Written by Australia’s Stephen Sewell, The Blind Giant is Dancing follows Allen Fitzgerald, an ambitious member of the ALP who is plotting to overthrow the capitalist right of the party and lead Australia into a brave new democratic socialist world. All the while, Allen is grappling with a failing marriage to a Jewish feminist who has taken a female lover (from the Liberal party) and a staunchly Catholic father who has worked the mines all his life. Who’s confused already?

Adding to the minefield that is the premise, the play jumps between scenes with increasing pace, to the point where some of the scenes in the second act are a mere two lines long. Despite this, the run time of the whole shermozzle is over three hours.

Faced with these challenges, Flack and the Belvoir team have given us a production that tries hard but fails to deliver a clear message.

Set Designer, Dale Ferguson, has presented us with an interesting concept, working closely with Lighting Designer, Verity Hampson, to place a floor-to-ceiling LED light wall centre stage, leaving the remainder of Belvoir’s black box stage empty. Unlit, the wall provides a transparent backdrop for the main scenes, behind which can be seen the upcoming actors. When alight, the wall replicates the sun drenched high-rise windows of Sydney’s CBD. The device is also used to project the setting at the start of each scene (useful given there is very little else to differentiate the surroundings). Some audience members may find the blinding they receive when the rig is fully lit a bit hard to take, but on the whole it’s not a bad design effort.

Set changes (such as they are) are managed by the actors in what is becoming a bit of a theatrical trend. But I do worry that some of the props the performers are required to carry on and off stage are a trifle unwieldy and there may be some mishaps during the run.

Speaking of the performers, Dan Spielman does well as Allen but could have benefited from a greater sense of purpose. The character has so much backstory that it would be hard for any actor to wrangle it all into their performance, but Spielman doesn’t quite hit the mark. There’s a lot of dialogue delivered but not so much deeper meaning.

Yael Stone as Allen’s wife, Louise, is one of the most convincing characters, and there is definite chemistry between the two (probably because they’re married in real life). The same can’t be said for Zahra Newman who plays Allen’s potential love interest, journalist Rose Draper. Rose speaks in riddles and is deliberately cagey about just what she’s doing here (on stage, in the political mix, flirting with Allen). Unfortunately, Newman’s performance lacks conviction – I’m not sure she knows what Rose is trying to say either.

The strongest performance comes from Geoff Morrell, whose portrayal of Allen’s political target, Michael Wells, is delightfully realistic. His accent is delightfully ocker but he delivers his lines with a subtle sense of power (something which Julia Gillard never quite managed).

To really enjoy this play you need more than a passing understanding of the concepts of socialism, Marxism, capitalism and communism. Sewell is also student of Australian politics, and the script goes into tremendous detail about the operations and direction of the ALP in the 1980s, which for my dad would no doubt be fascinating, since he was involved in the ALP himself at that time. Sadly most of us are not so familiar with party politics, and this makes for a confusing night out.

The other story here is about what it means to be a person – what gives us our identity and how we represent ourselves to others. What does it mean to be a wife? A Catholic? A socialist? A lover? This is a more universally appealing thread, but it gets lost under the weight of the narrative. A fault of the play, sure, but if a decision was made by the creatives to present this as the key message the production may have resonated more strongly. To this end, the scenes between Allen and Louise are a distraction, despite Stone’s performance. Even the climactic moments, which call into question family loyalty and cultural morality, fail to deliver a punch.

This production lacks a clear identity. In the hands of a different director, the play may deliver a powerful message, but Flack seems to have tried too hard to follow each of Sewell’s threads, leaving the audience to puzzle through just what it all means. The play clearly has a special place in his heart, however, and he should be commended for attempting such a tricky piece on his first outing.

Details
Viewed: 16 February 2016 (Preview)
Venue: Belvoir Upstairs Theatre, Surry Hills
Author: Stephen Sewell
Director: Eamon Flack
Production Company: Belvoir

Our land is girt by sea

In honour of Australia Day, I thought I'd write about my favourite Australian plays. Not just ones written by Australians, but those that tell something of our country's story. Sadly though, I came to realise my experience with true 'Aussie theatre' is painfully limited.

I could always blame the theatre-makers for failing to produce new works. But I think that's not necessarily the problem - there are numerous new plays being written and performed across all of Sydney's theatres. I was lucky enough to get to see Keating! on its third return season, and laughed hysterically, in spite of only being a mere child during the majority of the period presented in the show. I do however believe it resonates in Australia, rather than of Australia. Could you tour this internationally with the same success - doubtful, although the songs are certainly catchy.

I also got to see the brilliant Deborah Mailman in the equally brilliant premier of 7 Stages of Grieving, which she co-wrote with Wesley Enoch. It was the first time I had ever seen Indigenous Australia represented on stage. I remember crying, laughing, crying and generally being in awe of the extreme talent of the woman in front of me.

The good news is that the Aboriginal voice has not disappeared from our theatres. Look at Belvoir's determination to bring the Aboriginal voice to the stage in last year's Buried City, Don't Take Your Love to Town and Beautiful One Day. And this year will give us This Heaven, Coranderrk and The Cake Man.

And the Sydney Theatre Company are kicking off their 2013 season with The Secret River, based on the award winning book by Kate Grenville (which I hear is brilliant, more on this when I finally get to see it in February), and finishing with an adaptation of Storm Boy.

Plus, moving away from just the Indigenous angle, you've got the team at Griffin, who's website proudly claims to 'lead the country in developing and producing great Australian stories'. And the increasingly long Short and Sweet festival.

So what about existing work? This is probably more of a concern. Last year I watched Summer of the Seventeenth Doll at Belvoir, and fell in love with the play that had seemed fairly boring to me in high school. It was especially refreshing to hear the Aussie accent used in its appropriate setting, rolling over words like 'bloke', 'blue' and 'up North'. (Not that I'm criticising the artistic choice of many local directors to insist upon their actors using their natural voices but it don't always work so good, eh). What I like (now) about Doll is that there's a desperation to the characters - a little of the Aussie battler in all of them. Interestingly, though set in Melbourne (or Sydney depending on the version), I can't help but picture  Pearl, Olive, Emma and Roo in an outback town; the dusty streets, the single pub, the falling down shack of a house. But probably the strongest pangs are drawn in picturing those 16 kewpie dolls, with their hideously made-up plastic faces, painted on hair and spiky skirts providing the poor dear with zero modesty. It's been successful in that it is part of the school curriculum, but it really didn't come to life for me until I saw it staged. Thanks Belvoir for introducing this classic to me for a second time.

But I can't say I've seen a lot of other 'classics' from the Aussie library. There are countless Williamson's, Enright's and Nowra's that remain on my 'to do' list, and regardless of the fact I heard more about it than any other play at university, I'm still to see a production of Away, by Michael Gow. University can also be thanked for introducing me to Blackrock and Cosi, and Stephen Sewell's Sisters (which I think is sadly un-lauded) but only to scenes, rather than whole productions. I guess the lesson is that the classics don't come around too often, so make the time to see them.

And memorandum to own-personage: see more new Aussie theatre, lest it never get produced again!

Review Review - Peter Pan (Belvoir)

When I picked up our Peter Pan tickets from the Belvoir box office last night, I asked the girl behind the counter if it (the production) was any good. Dressed in a bright red Belvoir t'shirt, with a comic-strip-patterned skirt, yellow high-tops and large, red, apple earrings that perfectly matched her shirt (and lipstick), she gleefully said: "Yes! I want to see it again! And again!! And again!!!"

Quite a review! And not being one to spoil my theatrical experiences with reviews (perhaps it was silly of me to ask in the first place) I entered the theatre with some trepidation. What would Belvoir do to this children's classic?

As TimeOut Sydney says so eloquently in its review, Belvoir's production of Peter Pan "... captures the way that children dream when they play."

The corner stage was transformed into a bedroom straight out of my childhood, complete with board game classics like Mousetrap, Connect 4 and (as my partner excitedly pointed out) Test Match. Uno also made an appearance. And just like my formative years, each item in the room took on a new identity as the story unfolded. I won't share too many of the transformations here (as Lloyd Bradford Syke does in his review) because they are all the more delightful for being so unexpected, but watch for a very funny fishing rod-cum-ship's mast and the clever use of a blanket to represent water (haven't we all dreamt we were drowning only to find ourselves buried under the covers?). Props (in every sense of the word) to both Set Designer Robert Cousins and Director Ralph Myers for letting their imagination run wild.

And so to the cast who are given full reign to play in the space. Often I find that one or two casting choices leave me perplexed, but not so with Peter Pan. I disagree with TimeOut who suggested that Meyne Wyatt (in the title role) lets the side down - I thought he was the epitome of an adventurous boy. Dressed in his sporting attire and jumping fearlessly from one piece of furniture to the next, Wyatt brought depth to a character who is often simply thought of as merely a child. Sure, Peter never wants to grow up, but isn't there something in that idea that all adults could benefit from? He seeks out a regulator for himself and 'the boys' (a mother), and desires structure (he needs to find out what happened to Cinderella at the end of the story, for example), but refuses to be confined by the usual parameters of life - school, office, and such like. A challenging role indeed, and one which Wyatt owns.

He does, however, lose some limelight to the comedic talents of the ensemble, who steal more scenes than is usually recommended. But again, Myers allows the actors to play, rather than simply act, and this brings a sense of fun that is sometimes lacking in today's performers (particularly those working on a show that they clearly loathe). Notable mentions go to Charlie Garber as the ad-libbing Captain Hook, who "turns the pantomime up to 11" and the delightful, Harriet Dyer, whose "giggly Twins (either and/or both), sunbathing mermaid and succession of doomed pirates are unlookawayable" (well said TimeOut). I also loved (as I usually do) John Leary's performance as Nana (the dog) - very Wilfred-esque.

There were so many moments that made me smile, and even more that made me laugh out loud. But I think the main reason my cheeks ached all the way home was for the sheer brilliance of the production elements. I hope I'm not spoiling things too much by sharing that Tinkerbell is perhaps the cleverest creation, in that she appears as flashing lights, darting across the room to the sound of bells rung by the cast. Congrats to Damien Cooper, Lighting Designer, for realising this tricky character so effectively.

As Tomas Boot explains on theatrepeople.com.au, "this is inventive theatre at its best, with director Ralph Myers crafting a taut and hilarious work... The delight comes not just from the comedic ensemble, but the ingenuity of the entire machine, as it were."

In some ways it was made all the more joyous an experience as it was the first time we (my partner and I) had taken his mother to this beautiful little Surry Hills space. Needless to say, she loved it. Wept tears of joy, in fact, a phrase I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of needing to write before.

I simply cannot wait to see it again! And again! And again!!!

Review Review - Private Lives, Belvoir

Firstly, a word of explanation. I don't like to read reviews before I go to see a show. That way my view of the show is not tempered with a preconceived idea of what that production may be. Instead I prefer to form my own views and then go back and look at what others have said. So this is my review of the reviews of Private Lives at Belvoir.

Safely ensconced in the back of a cab on our way home from attending Private Lives at Belvoir (til 11 Nov in the Upstairs Theatre), my partner made an interesting comment:

"I really enjoyed that, but I can tell why some of the reviews said that if you were a traditionalist you probably wouldn't like it."

I was intrigued.

Private Lives, written by one of England's most revered playwrights, Noel Coward, is set in a hotel in 1930, where two couples - Elyot and Sybil and Amanda and Victor - are enjoying the first night of their second honeymoons. Enjoying, that is, until Elyot and Amanda, who were married some five years before and have since divorced, discover that their honeymoons are to be spent in adjoining hotel rooms. Despite assuring their current spouses otherwise, sparks ignite between Elyot and Amanda and they run away together to Paris, leaving their partners to team up to find out just what went wrong. The synopsis alone gives rise to a smile, and yes, this is very much a farcical comedy which thrives as much on witty dialogue as it does slapstick.

And yes, it is true that Belvoir's Artistic Director, Ralph Myers' Upstairs directorial debut is very much in keeping with the Theatre's boundary-pushing style. The three-acter has been condensed to just one, a 90 minute onslaught of dialogue and door slamming. Instead of toffee-English accents, the actors are encouraged to use their natural voices, and the lavish furnishings that typically dress a play set in France in the 1930s are replaced with a stark, white, near-naked set. And the musical choices are eclectic and travel between the decades without blinking. But do these artistic choices make the production unlikeable?

Overall, I have to agree with the majority of reviewers who have concluded that the production is a good one. It is as entertaining a night out as one would expect from a comedy at 'the little theatre that could'. But it does have a few flaws that prevent it from truly attaining the heights that I, and others, have come to expect from Belvoir...

First, lets address the absence of accent. "With this sacrilegious move he's revealed that Private Lives is a delightful, clever play and, in order to amuse and entertain a 21st century audience, it has no need of sepia-tinted reverence for things past... The humour and wit don't need on comic plummy accents to generate laughter - it's actually humorous and witty anyway." So says Diana Simmonds in Stage Noise (26 September 2012). I could not agree more. True, there are one or two odd words that jar the ear and distract the audience for a minute or two while they ponder how much the English language has changed ('I love the world to be gay' anyone?), but on the whole, the use of natural voice allows the text to shine.

So too does the extremely talented and very watchable Toby Schmitz, who's take on the usually pompous, sarcastic Elyot is assured and cool. Described by Simmonds as "tall, urbane, and good looking", Schmitz steals the show, and rightfully so. Schmitz delivers his punchlines quickly and cleanly, much like a 50's (M)ad-man, who drinks for amusement and never quite seems to be totally present (as if he - the character - would much rather be elsewhere). The only question mark over his performance relates to the issue of violence - it is a little hard to believe that someone so charming could be violent towards women.

Schmitz is matched admirably by Zahra Newman, who plays Amanda, the ex-wife who is oft overshadowed by her ex-husband. But Newman's take on the part is best summed up by Lloyd Bradford Syke as "a modern woman: strong; strident; self-assured; go-getting; assertively sexy" (see Syke's well-written review for Crikey on 1 October).

Unfortunately I cannot agree with Simmonds and Syke on their assessment of the other two main characters, Sybil, played by Eloise Mignon, and Victor, given to us by Toby Truslove. While both Simmonds and Syke give props to these two Belvoir regulars for their 'gifted' and 'skilled' performances (Syke even goes so far as to say Truslove "has set a whole new comic high-water mark"), I felt underwhelmed. I'm afraid I didn't truly believe Mignon's naive, girl-in-love Sybil, and felt perhaps the performance was a little one-dimensional. And while Truslove gave plenty of dimension to Victor, bringing his usual laid-back, hands-in-pocket, downtrodden-love-fool style to the role, it was the wrong fit for the play. A more awkward, stuffy, too-nice and too-uptight interpretation would have given the character play more balance.

And speaking of off-balance, while he is known for his design cred, Myers lets his Director-self down with his set design. This play calls for a number of doors, driving the action throughout. But just because the doors are the most important part of the set doesn't mean the rest should be thrown-out completely. Myers has gone with a single flat, white wall at the rear of the stage which houses the two afore mentioned doors, and a third entry/exit - a lift. The floor is the kind of awful stone-look lino that you seen in hospital corridors. By using the minimal approach, Myers has addressed the change of location from hotel to Paris apartment that is normally managed through an intermission or long blackout. But it just doesn't work with the action and dialogue.

"The absence of set creates some distracting problems for the actors to solve: where to put the cocktail glasses? What to do with the mattress?" says Jason Blake on Eight Nights a Week. The mattress he mentions is used playfully in the 'second act' by Elyot and Amanda as they rekindle their romance. It is dragged onto the centre of the floor in front of the elevator (which of course is in the apartment scene because the set hasn't changed). At the climatic end of the scene (apologies for spoilers) the elevator opens to reveal Sybil and Victor, who stare incredulously at Elyot and Amanda, rolling around the floor in throws of violence. Well, that's what's supposed to happen. The night we saw the show the problematic mattress was pushed too close to the elevator doors which caused an amateur-like set malfunction leaving one half of the lift open and forcing a slightly ruffled Truslove to await an unscheduled blackout.

The other key problem with the set (and the small number of props that are used) is that they do nothing to help the audience determine the era in which the action is now set. It could be 2012, but who listens to records in 2012? It could be the 1930s, what with the dialogue and references to telegrams and trunks, but then how does one explain the use of Phil Collins in the soundtrack (a moment which I will not go on to explain because it is by far and away the funniest moment of the entire show)?

Alice Babidge's costume designs don't help either. They're actually well suited to the characters and their situations, but other than placing them sometime in the late 20th Century don't do enough to truly 'date' the action.

Simmonds sums up the issue best when she says...

"The thinking behind all this is deeply unfortunate and if the cast and direction were any less than sparkling, could have led to disaster. As it is, the packed Sunday afternoon preview audience (I'm overseas for the opening) absolutely adored it and so did I - but I did passionately hate the set and the bicycle."

I couldn't agree more. An enjoyable evening, marked by a fantastic performance by Schmitz, in a production which showcases a great playwright. But I did hate the set! I guess I'm just traditional that way.

Side By Side (apologies to Mr Sondheim)

In my last (and technically first) piece I talked about the similarities between the Belvoir and STC 2013 Season line-ups. In the hopes of determining who to subscribe to, I have decided to analyse the plays side-by-side. Here goes…

STC	Belvoir
The Secret River Adaptation of a (Booker prize-winning) book by Kate Grenville, directed by Neil Armfield (former Belvoir artistic director) The first show of the 2013 Season, the story follows convict’s journey to the Hawkesbury where he encounters the Dharug people, unwilling to give up their land. A glimpse into Australia’s dark history, and persecution of the indigenous population.	Peter Pan Adaptation of a (very famous) book by JM Barrie, directed by Ralph Myers (current Belvoir artistic director) The first show of the 2013 Season, the story follows a boy’s journey to Neverland, where he encounters the Lost Boys (to whom Myers hopes to draw a parallel with Australia’s stolen generation). A glimpse into Australia’s dark history, and persecution of the indigenous population.
Mrs Warren’s Profession Starring Helen Thomson, a likely reinvention* of a George Bernard Shaw classic. A woman working her way to independence and a top career finds out her education was bankrolled by a prostitute – her mother. Written in 1893, but not performed until 1925 because of its content, the play deals with class, love and lust. *Guessing due to the fact that the ‘dress-up’ spectrum of the play as indicated by the infographic representing each production is relatively small	Miss Julie Starring Brendan Cowell, a reinvention of Strindberg’s classic. A woman, born into privilege, uses sex to gain power and independence. She partners with Jean (poor but ambitious) to achieve her goals. Written in 1888, while not banned it dealt with the controversial topic of sex outside marriage and class, love and lust.
The Maids Starring Cate Blanchett and Isabelle Huppert in a reworking of a French play by Jean Genet. Two maids fantasise about killing their employer, while dressing up in her outfits, imitating one another in a series of ‘performances’. Written in 1947. Billed as “one of the theatre events of the year”, it features 2 strong female leads.	Persona Based on the film by Ingmar Bergman, a massive hit in Melbourne in 2012. An actress, who falls suddenly dumb, is sent to the seaside to recover. Her nurse begins to speak to her. Reviewed as one of the best theatrical productions of 2012, it features two strong female leads.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead Starring Tim Minchin and Toby Schmitz Tom Stoppard’s comedy which follows two characters from Hamlet – Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.	Cat on a Hot Tin Roof Starring Ewen Leslie and Jacqui McKenzie, directed by Simon Stone (who delivered 2012’s hit Death of a Salesman). An American classic, with heat at its heart.
Romeo and Juliet One of Shakespeare’s most famous plays, given a youthful treatment by Kip Williams (who directed 2012’s physically driven Under Milkwood). Likely to be a very watchable production, especially given Williams’ deft touch with poetry (evidenced by Under Milkwood).	Hamlet One of Shakespeare’s most famous plays, given the Simon Stone treatment (who directed 2012’s beautifully stylised Strange Interlude) Starring one of the hottest acting properties around – Toby Schmitz – this could go either way (due to Stone’s sometimes controversial reinventionist approach), but is likely to be a big hit.
Waiting for Godot Starring Richard Roxburgh and Hugo Weaving, directed by Tamas Ascher (who worked with both stars on the highly successful Uncle Vanya). A play about nothing. Or waiting. Or God. Depends on your point of view really. Modern classic.	Angels in America (Parts 1 & 2) A massive undertaking of both shows, billed as “the newest classic in the canon”. A comedy about heaven and earth, past and future. Directed by Eamon Flack, who works well with both classic and modern texts.

Okay, well that's just made my job harder. There's nothing else for it. Additional assistance is required. To the pub!

To subscribe, or not to subscribe. That is the question.

With the two big Sydney theatre players unveiling their 2013 seasons this fortnight, along comes the conundrum: who gets my hard-earned dollars?

This year, for the first time in over a decade, I subscribed to a theatre company. It is a big financial commitment, especially when you have no idea whether the productions will actually live up to expectations.

For example, among our choices from STC’s 2012 line-up was Pygmalion. I love this story, but had never seen the original in the theatre. But Shaw’s writing is fabulously English, witty and challenging, so I felt it would be a safe bet. Sadly the production left me cold. The choice to reset the play (at least in terms of its sparse set and costumes) in the present did not marry-up with the period text. The class comedy was lost because as far as we knew, class wasn’t a factor. A conscious choice of juxtaposition? Perhaps, but I was underwhelmed. 

I had similar high hopes for Liaisons Dangerous, with the always sublime Pamela Rabe and – while I’ve never seen him on stage – equally compelling Hugo Weaving. But alas, this adaptation was also a disappointment. Although harder to put my finger on exactly why it failed to achieve the dizzying heights of my expectations, I walked from the Wharf Theatre feeling bored, and tired. Perhaps the intimacy of the space (sitting three rows back meant we were practically in the drawing room rather than merely observing it through a window) gave me too close a view of characterisations that I felt missed the mark. Or maybe I wanted more sex from the production, having first encountered the story in its filmic form, Cruel Intentions (which was perhaps most famous for the lesbian kiss between Sarah Michelle Buffy and Selma Blair). Regardless, two plays out of my carefully selected sextet were, in my mind, a waste.

But the three other shows that made the cut in my 2012 compilation were surprisingly good. I would even go so far as to say excellent, particularly in the case of Midsummer (albeit a touring production so not entirely the achievement of local creatives). Does the fact I, as a subscriber, get to see three good shows in a year outweigh the cost of paying for two shows I did not enjoy? Even if I had bought tickets ad-hoc, would I still have gone to see the two poor shows anyway? I know that in the case of two shows at Belvoir this year, for which I can obtain free tickets thanks to the fact I volunteer with the marketing team regularly, I deliberately chose not to attend, because of poor reviews and content that did not appeal (apparently to many but that’s a whole other blog).

With one to go I am pondering the potential value exchange in having at least had tickets and gone to see shows, against a backdrop of ten years in the theatrical wilderness, as it were.

I’m not alone in attributing the value of a theatre company subscription to the simple act of regularly attending performances. A number of 2012 Belvoir subscribers, surveyed for the company’s future marketing activities, said the main reason they purchased a bulk pack of performance each year was to ensure they actually went to the theatre. ‘Life gets in the way. You hear about a production, decide you want to go, but by the time you get around to booking tickets the show’s finished or the season’s sold out,’ explained one.

Then of course there is the guarantee of good seats, not missing out on a show which sells out faster than you can say Cate Blanchett, and the discounted prices. And the perks like discounted books, meals, travel – although I am yet to use any of these. Hmmm. Scratch that last then.

On balance, I think subscribing is worthwhile, if only for one of the main reasons I have yet to outline here – that I am doing my bit to ensure theatre continues to be made. Theatre companies rely on subscriber dollars to fund their existence. They give an excellent indication of which shows will be popular among individual ticket buyers (allowing valuable marketing dollars to be funnelled into projects that require a little extra help), and they allow budgets to be set well in advance.

So to the big decision – who to subscribe to? Both STC and Belvoir are offering big names (actors, directors, playwrights), re imagined classics, popular Shakespeare and quirky newbies. In many ways both seasons are very similar. It gives me an idea for my next musing… Until then, wish me luck in my quest for the perfect program.