Henry IV - GRADS Theatre Company (12 March 2025)

Let's talk about how special the theatregoing experience can be... 

A couple of hours before opening night there was a pretty heavy shower where I live. This is going to be interesting, I thought, given the New Fortune Theatre is an outdoor venue. I even took a jumper with me. The rain cleared, the night was still, the jumper was never in danger of being required, the peacocks were mute... it was nothing short of a divine evening. 

I was uncharacteristically indecisive and ended up in the upper wing, audience left, looking down at the stage. As I absorbed the action before me, gazing at the performers, clearly seeing the audience where I'd normally sit, listening to the immortal words of Shakespeare, I was struck by how otherworldly this was. In the best possible way. A terrific cast, performing an epic tale, written by the greatest playwright of the English language, in a replica venue, on a perfect night. It floated across my mind that theatre doesn't get much better than this. 

Afterwards, one of the actors remarked they heard someone laughing from the wings and that they must have known the play. Yes, I laughed. But I do not know the play. What I do recognise is wordplay and japery and an inventiveness of language that has never been matched. When writ large in someone as larger-than-life as Sir John Falstaff the ribaldry is nothing short of intoxicating. A condition Falstaff and his companions are certainly not foreign to.

My vantage point also delivered a stunning visual moment that rocked me; like a spectacular wide shot from a movie that could only have been seen in profile. At the end of the first half, to my right, Prince Hal (Fraser Whitely) is at the rear section of the foot of the stage amongst the audience, head slightly bowed. To my left, Henry IV (Grant Malcolm) is on the stage, behind his imposing desk, in an elevated position compared to his son and wayward heir. Whitely moves slowly down the central aisle, mounts the stairs to the stage, and for the first time ascends to meet his father on his own level. Only to be berated by Henry in a fiery monologue delivered by Malcolm that will not be his last burst of sustained brilliance. 

That image, of those two characters at the extremities of, in film language, the frame; the difference in elevation, in posture, and demeanour said EVERYTHING about their respective status and relationship without a word being spoken. It's imprinted on my brain. The act of humble ascension and subsequent rebuke is superb. If I sat where I normally do I would never have seen it. Not like that. Thank you, indecisiveness!

I digress.

This adaptation by director Patrick Downes is the merging of two plays, Henry IV, Parts One and Two. In short, Hotspur (Grace Edwards) has taken up arms against Henry IV (Malcolm) while Henry's son, Prince Hal (Whitely), carouses with the notorious Falstaff and associates. High court politics, battles, and sword fights ensue with plenty of hijinks along the way. Think of it as Game of Thrones without the dragons. In essence it is a story about the son who will assume the mantle of the father and cast aside his rebellious past. All stirring stuff. 

Grant Malcolm excels as Henry IV. Regal, commanding, exasperated at his son and the folly of those who oppose him. His monologue towards the end of the play as Henry catches Hal wearing the crown is worth the price of admission alone. Wounded in more ways than one, his Henry is distraught at this act. Malcolm is devastating as he conjures a response of raw emotion until Whitely's Hal seeks to placate him. 

Whitely, youthful and exuberant, plays Hal as one of the lads until duty calls and the arc towards regal responsibility is set in motion. It's a likeable and charming performance contrasted by the coldness of Hal's repudiation of his past in the closing moments. 

Where Grant Malcolm brings the authority, Michael Lamont brings stout and roundly humour in a fabulous turn as Falstaff. He is never less than captivating as he carouses and cajoles; schemes and pontificates. His speech about honour is a highlight as Lamont shifts gears to bring insight to such a boastful man. 

Grace Edwards is all fire and scorn as Hotspur who defies the king and sets in motion the broader political and military machinations. Edwards prowls the stage, her Hotspur restless and discontent, until fury meets destiny in a clash that will define the fortunes of all involved. 

The supporting players inhabit multiple roles with skill and flair - Martyn Churcher, notably as Worcester whose deceit ends in calamity; Anna Head, both regal and common as Westmoreland and Doll Tearsheet respectively; Joanne Lamont who moves between inn-keeper and finely accented, rebel nobles; Nic Doig as a vibrant Poins, in particular; Jason Dohle whose Douglas hunts Henry with rare savagery; Andreas Petalas as a sixth man off the bench taking on multiple roles, highbrow and low; and Kaitlyn Barry, quieter yet no less arresting, as Peto and Vernon.  

Patrick Downes uses all of the space, however, there's a clear delineation, especially in the first half, like an Elizabethan netball court. The highborn and those of authority are on the raised stage; the lowborn and the fallen Prince Hal perform at the foot of the stage. The traversing of those boundaries, when it comes, is of notable importance until the chaos of battle leads to far more fluid staging in the second half. 

Well lit (Fiona Reid), well costumed (Merri Ford), and well staged this is a showpiece for the actors and they deliver in rousing fashion. Music cues were a little off-putting and abrupt to mine ears but maybe that's because the inherent drama and comedy did not need buttressing.  

Shakespeare can be difficult for the modern sensibility. I have to tell you though, sitting there, watching a stirring production on a balmy Perth night was pretty damn special. A unique experience and one that's well worth attending.  

Henry IV is on at the New Fortune Theatre in the Arts Building of the UWA campus until 22 March. 

Photos by Paris Romano Jenner

The Lisbon Traviata - Garrick Theatre (14 April 2024)

Ah, the opera! An art form full of heightened storytelling, glorious voices, big emotions, and sublime music. Love, jealousy, lust, betrayal, comic misunderstandings, and tragedy all writ large, "often at the same time" as *Eric Idle might say. In that world composers, conductors, musicians, and singers can become immortal. Stars such as influential opera singer Maria Callas who shone as bright as any during the mid-20th century. 

Now, a recent attendance at a performance of Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro notwithstanding, I cannot claim to be an opera fan let alone an aficionado. This is not the case for two of the characters in playwright Terrence McNally's love letter to Callas. They are immersed in opera - they exchange rapid fire references to performances and recordings down to the exact date and location as they disparage other opera luminaries whilst adoring Callas as an unimpeachable goddess. It's very specific and while I catch many of the obvious references most sail waaaaaaaaay over my head. 

Two things come from this. Firstly, kudos to actors Adam Poole (Stephen) and Martyn Churcher (Mendy) who plough through a staggering amount of names, places, titles, and operatic ephemera, oftentimes singing excerpts from the pieces they are discussing. The second is, I need something to ground myself in this arcane setting as we settle into Stephen and Mendy's discourse which comprises the bulk of the first half. Sure, there's way more going on but we'll get to that a little later. For now, I'm trying to navigate my way to a place of perspective even though I may not grasp the specifics.

In this I am helped by a brief pre-show conversation with director Barry Park. I come away from this surmising that Maria Callas was the Taylor Swift of her day. Yes, I can hear the gnashing of teeth and sharpening of knives from true opera lovers as I type this. But it gives me a point of reference. Mendy would have made a tremendous Swiftie - he is obsessed by Callas. He knows everything about her. Consumes vast quantities of her work and voraciously seeks out rare and previously unheard recordings such as, you guessed it, the Lisbon Traviata. 

I know this feeling - when I left high school I moved out of home to share a house with three friends and we were always at Dada Records (those were the days!) eagerly looking for rare bootleg live recordings of bands such as Pink Floyd. In other words, passionate 'fandom' is a concept I can handily latch onto here. 

Mendy is the diva of the two and Churcher plays him suitably large with more than a touch of Nathan Lane about him. Stephen appears the more unaffected but as the first half unfurls we learn that he fears his relationship with Mike (Patrick Downes) is on rocky ground due to Mike's dalliance with the younger Paul (Alex Comstock). That first half is big, sumptuous (a gorgeously dressed set by Park), over-the-top, and there are laughs to be found in the outlandish nature of, particularly, Mendy's foibles. It also sows plenty of seeds for what's to come. 

The second half takes a somewhat abrupt turn in location, look, and especially tone. We relocate to Stephen's apartment which he shares with Mike only to find Paul is also there. By comparison, the set is antiseptic and ordered with a wonderful depiction of hundreds of albums and CDs on the rear flat. Initially it's like a set-up for an opera - Stephen, the villain, comes in to find the mismatched lovers (Mike and Paul) with Mendy intruding briefly for comic relief. 

But then something far more interesting happens - Stephen becomes the diva. He pleads with Mike to love him after he crassly makes multiple passes at Paul. Things escalate from there until that heightened storytelling and big emotions associated with opera explode into a fury of jealousy and rage. The over-the-top pretentions of the first half morph into the even bigger emotions of the second. 

By the end of the play you come to realise that Maria Callas symbolises a relationship that was one-sided and never real. That obsession isn't a substitution for love. That finding that rare recording or moment can't rekindle something that is over. As the lights slowly fade on our tragic figures (Lighting designer Mark Nicholson) the trajectory of Mike and Stephen's relationship appears as if it were always fated, like the plot of an opera which is the clever conceit at the heart of this. 

The acting is excellent throughout - Churcher, as mentioned, is all flourishes and vain remonstrations as he plays the full tilt diva to the hilt. Poole gets to go just as large in the second half, albeit in an increasingly melodramatic way, as his Stephen unravels with jealousy and fear. Downes is more grounded as the doctor who has tired of Stephen and fallen for Paul, and provides a rock solid foundation for Poole to bounce off as Stephen becomes more desperate. Comstock provides some shock value to start but plays Paul with a "whatever, man" disdain that's a nice counterpoint to the roiling emotions of the others.

Sound design plays a critical role and is well-handled (Sound operator Jeremy Moore) with the recordings of Callas performances, household effects, and phone message recordings, while there is a focus on the equipment used to play these vinyl records with turntables and stereo kits that will be familiar to anyone from that era (mid-80s). The production also utilises an American dialect coach (Phillip Steele-Young) and Foreign languages coach (Grace Edwards) so the New York accent work and pronunciation of opera terms, lyrics, and names was notable.   

The density and specificity of the opera references might keep audiences at arm's length from this initially but it's well worth persisting with because there's a complex and genuine human tragedy that emerges from under all the "operatic" bluster. 

This is the third play in a row I've seen by director Barry Park that tackles such complexity in forthright and honest ways after The York Realist and The Normal Heart last year. He's to be commended for continuing to present such challenging material at a high level in Perth's vibrant community theatre space. The Lisbon Traviata runs until 27 April at Garrick Theatre in Guildford.

*Eric Idle wrote the Tony award winning musical 'Spamalot' with John Du Prez. McNally takes a few pot shots at musical theatre and while I can tolerate 'Cats' being taken for a walk and even 'The Sound of Music', you're messing with trouble when you go after Sondheim and 'Sweeney Todd'! 

Othello - The Graduate Dramatic Society (6 December 2023)

William Shakespeare is celebrated for the sheer number of phrases and idioms he contributed to the English language, many of them still in common usage. One of the most memorable is "green-eyed monster" from Othello which is a more striking depiction of his "green-eyed jealousy" from The Merchant of Venice almost a decade earlier. That monstrous form of jealousy ripples throughout Othello, ending in tragedy for all it ensnares. The play also gives us "I will wear my heart upon my sleeve" as Iago seemingly confesses his treachery. 

And what treachery it is as Iago conspires to bring low his military commander, the Moorish general Othello, by stoking the flames of irrational jealousy over the supposed misdeeds of Othello's wife, Desdemona. Misdeeds Iago has carefully constructed through cunning deceptions and the ownership of a handkerchief - an inelegant plot device but one that features heavily. It is, as one audience member exclaimed, "very Shakespeare... everyone dies in the end." Not quite true though also not a "spoiler" for it is, indeed, a Shakespearean tragedy so blood will inevitably be spilled. 

All this under the stars on a beautiful summer's night at UWA's New Fortune Theatre, a reconstruction of the Elizabethan era Fortune Theatre where The Bard's plays were originally performed. Of course, there is the added bonus of being serenaded by the resident peacocks who display prodigious projection skills though questionable dramatic timing. It also means that the elevated stage is wide and deep with nary a place to hide for the performers with no sets and only those glorious words under the lights and gaze of audience and peafowl alike.    

Director Thomas Dimmick has made many key choices in his adaptation of the play. Several traditionally male characters - notably Cassio, Roderigo, and Brabantio - are played by Krysia Wiechecki, Tarryn McGrath, and Meredith Hunter respectively. It adds an interesting spin to the power dynamics throughout the play with subtle shifts in perspective such as it now being a mother's scorn and concern for her daughter as Hunter's Brabantio condemns Desdemona's marriage to Othello. There still lingers a distasteful sense that her objections, and the treatment of Othello in general, are because he is a Moor who therefore could only have beguiled the senator's pristine daughter with magic.  

Dimmick also uses modern costuming and props - the military "men" are dressed in camouflage pants, army boots, olive green t-shirts and dog tags; the civilians in dresses, suits, or jeans. Then there's Patrick Downes' Clown who is a mixture of both styles coming across as a larrikin Cockie who happens to have stumbled into a Shakespeare production which adds well-timed and executed levity. Costume Design by Merri Ford.

The only significant set design as such is the introduction of the marital bed late in the second half where monstrous deeds shall be committed. The upstairs balcony is used judiciously when those 'on high' address their subordinates. Otherwise, sound design of battle and hubbub adds to the sense of scope; anachronistic music choices to the sense of revelry; with effective lighting design that casts our skulking villains in shadow when required and highlights touching scenes such as Emilia braiding Desdemona's hair whilst discussing marital infidelity. Lighting Design by Fiona Reed.

The play is propelled by an excellent performance from Tadhg Lawrence as Iago, the duplicitous ensign who "hates the Moor" for promoting Cassio over him. Though, it should be said, Iago's true motivations are somewhat slippery as he seems to have various grievances, real or imagined, against many of the other characters. This makes him fascinating and his schemes even more heinous. Lawrence plays him with great energy, cunning, and an affability that was disarming as he addressed the audience. I loved the confidence of his eye contact in those moments and while the standing order appeared to be "if a peacock squawks, wait" Lawrence would often use his own excellent projection to contest said fowl. 

Erik Bibaeff certainly brings a physical stature to Othello and there's no doubt there is a sense of brooding menace in the second half. However, I found him a little stiff and one note as the titular character, mainly relying on an increase in volume to denote anger and telegraphing his emotions rather than convincingly conveying them to us and the other characters. There is a gasp-worthy burst of violence that he handles well and the physical threat to Desdemona is clearly established.  

Krysia Wiechecki gives a lively performance as Cassio before expertly recalibrating after the Vodka-induced fight with Montano (Jarrod Buttery), another of Iago's schemes. This sees Cassio fall foul of Othello's good graces and Wiechecki brings a keen sense of the import of such a loss of reputation. 

The program announces this is Anna Weir's first community theatre production which makes her portrayal of Desdemona even more remarkable. She lent such decency to the woman who is beset by innuendo and doubt while unfairly pilloried as a 'whore' and 'strumpet' for totally fabricated infidelities. One unpalatable conclusion is that Desdemona is being punished for having the audacity to marry a Moor. Weir brings a sweetness and dismay that heightens the impact of Desdemona's fate.   

Tarryn McGrath also enacts a clear action change as her Roderigo morphs from a hapless pawn of Iago's scheming to reluctant participant whose sense of unease and demise is perhaps more poignant now. Downe's adds jocularity and easy charm with an Aussie flavour; Hunter is relentless as the aggrieved mother early on in the play; and Grant Malcolm brings a crisp authority to Lodovico in the second half.  

Then there's Grace Edwards whose Emilia, Iago's wife, emerges in the second half as a force to reckon with. Faithful to Desdemona as her maidservant and loyal to her husband, Emilia comes to learn of her unwitting part in Iago's scheme as the ramifications careen towards a bloody conclusion. For all the talk of 'honesty' in the play, it's Edwards who imbues Emilia with the most honest reaction to the outrages that have occurred and those to come. The rage she summons at both Othello and Iago is justified and utterly compelling. For mine, Desdemona and Emilia are the two most tragic figures, unfairly caught up in the petty machinations of men. I was unmoved by Othello's ultimate fate as, even though he was manipulated, his response is so massively over-the-top and abhorrent that I have no pity for him whatsoever. But that's one of those wonderful gifts of a Shakespeare play - the discussions afterwards.

This is a great opportunity to see a classic tragedy at a wonderful venue where much care and attention has been taken by the cast, crew and creatives. There are five more performances on 8, 9, 14, 15, 16 December at the New Fortune Theatre in the Arts Building at UWA.

Photos by Grant Malcolm.