The War on Food - Fringe World 2016 (16 February 2016)

I have a confession to make. I don’t really know what Kale is. Some speak of it in the hushed tones of a convert; others with the contempt of a disbeliever. It’s not even a word I had heard of until recently. Apparently it’s a mystical foodstuff of some description that seems to attract an awful lot of attention at Fringe World. That includes here where it is one of the catalysts for the funkiest farrago of fresh food frolics seen this side of a spud busting Potato Board protest.

Yes, food fans, the world’s produce is in the grip of a monolithic corporation known only as Coleworths. Farming has been made illegal as has the time-honoured vegie patch in the backyard. You want to squeeze a lemon or gnaw on some precious kale then it’s off to a Big C store. Where the food is fresh, the service fresher, and the prices are jacked up to ridiculous amounts. Something has to give.

Like any good revolution there needs to be a band of intrepid visionaries who dare question the status quo and bring the tyrants to their knees. Either that or some kids in silly wigs tired of drinking the same crappy cab sav from scrawny, overpriced grapes.

Our heroes who audaciously take on the might of the Coleworths super-supermarket chain are Sage (Raj Joseph), Basil (Giuseppe Rotondella) and Rosemary (Morgan Owen) while avoiding the scrutiny of a Big C uber-executive played by Chloe Evangelisti. Sage is recently fired, Basil even more recently promoted as a result, while Rosemary is a farmer who can’t catch a break as the bad guys poison any illegally grown crops.

What follows is a whacky heist style caper of increasingly implausible proportions where our “fresh food fugitives” (try saying that fast three times) turn the tables by breaking into Coleworths stores and poisoning their overpriced, undersized produce. It’s a propaganda battle for hearts and stomachs where the Big C even has its own news channel.  

The show is not particularly subtle in its digs at big corporations, commercialism, duopolies, the media, advertising and possibly the sex appeal of lemons; however, it is presented and acted in an over-the top manner that befits the material.

The use of a quite startling array of wigs helps enhance the sense of mayhem as the four actors play up to absurdity of it all. Evangelisti gets to present several iterations of the over-zealous corporate middle manager with exaggerated accents, abrupt physical movement, and an almost Inspector Clouseau-like air of feigned competence. Rotondella gives his ‘inside man’ a naivety and genuine reluctance at the first sign of resistance whilst also dealing with the most unruly mop of fake hair featured in a Perth production in some time.

Owen plays her salt-of-the-poisoned-earth farmer with plenty of spunk while Joseph provides the passion as nominal leader of this merry band who will not go quietly into the night shift. All of them study at WAAPA and seem to relish inhabiting such outlandish characters and the freedom that writer-director Zoe Hollyoak allows them.

It’s also an interesting if somewhat warm venue with chairs lined up on either side of a long, narrow space with doors for rapid entrances and exits at each end. There was a nice effect replicating lifts with the mandatory cheesy muzak but otherwise this was simply staged with the audience close to the action. Indeed there were moments of brief interaction that added to the surreal nature of proceedings.

It’s all very zany with a slapstick style of humour that makes it a light and tasty Fringe World dish the likes of which The Big C would promote the hell out of.

The War on Food by The Cutting Room Floor is on at Paper Mountain, upstairs at 267 William Street until 20 February.  

Inside We Hide - Fringe World 2016 (9 February 2016)

An elephant. One of the strongest animals on Earth. Tied to a peg in the ground. Yet it won’t move. Conditioned from a young age by handlers who tied it to logs. It strained and strained but could not move. Fully grown now it doesn’t try anymore, not even against the smallest of pegs. Even though it could easily free itself.

Aren’t some of us like that in many ways? Locked in a destructive perception of ourselves through guilt or fear or shame or simply through conditioning. Being told over and over. Not good enough. Not attractive enough. Not smart enough. Not enough. If only we tugged against the negative self talk, the doubts, the lack of self esteem we could free ourselves. But like the elephant sometimes we don’t. We listen to the silly voices in our head. The opinion of others.

And so Mary (Verity Softly) finds herself in a room littered with potatoes and used water canisters. With a rope tied around one ankle. The other end of the rope disappears through a hole in the wall. She’s greeted by the wisecracking Louise (Alicia Osyka) who’s been here a while but doesn’t seem too forthcoming about divulging the ‘rules’. Mary discovers another newcomer, Andy (Brenn Hislop), who is disoriented and in pain.

Slowly we learn there is someone watching. Who issues instructions. In a childish girl’s voice. Who shows each of them things. No, not things. People. People somewhere else who are suffering because of them. Each one’s reaction is different. They are trapped. They must face whatever it is that has led to them being tethered. In a room. With no escape. They must suffer the consequences of their actions, culpable in the fate of others.

It’s an intriguing premise by writer Ann-Marie Biagioni. Billed as a thriller I kept waiting for a twist and perhaps James Wan and Leigh Whannell are to blame for that. But no twist came; the owner of the childish voices wasn’t revealed; and the stakes weren’t ratcheted up as one might expect. This felt more a character study about the ways we trap ourselves rather than those who would seek to ensnare us for amusement or sinister intent. The play also ends on a thematic note instead of a plot driven climax so the thriller moniker feels a little misleading.      

The psychological character study is aided by strong performances from Osyka and Softly who really are the two in direct conflict. Hislop’s Andy felt more a device so he had less to work with and I never quite understood his motivation for attempting an extreme act in response to seeing his ‘victim’. Despite a long monologue attempting to explain this. The labyrinth details didn’t convince.

Osyka is excellent at the casual delivery of a sharp one liner or throwaway snide remark. We wonder if her Louise is delusional or maybe even complicit in some way. Perhaps she is the most damaged of the lot. It’s a fine line to tread and it’s an intriguing performance.

Softly plays Mary with straight forward earnestness that butts up against the superficial glibness of Osyka’s Louise. They are at different ends of the spectrum – compassionate versus disinterested; desperate versus resigned. It’s the cut and thrust of their conversations that form the foundation of the play.

The set design, lighting and sound design provide an effective mood of disquiet. The tangle of ropes is particularly effective. Though more could have been made of their shortening length as ‘she’ becomes displeased with the actions or responses of her playthings.

Ultimately it felt like the characters were let off the hook but then maybe that’s the point. It’s the individual who decides to stop listening to those childish voices of self-doubt and fear and pull away from whatever restraint holds them in place... or not. 

Written by Ann-Marie Biagioni, Directed by Scott Corbett and featuring Brenn Hislop, Alicia Osyka, and Verity Softly, this The Cutting Room Floor production is on at The Blue Room until 13 February.

Talk Dirty To Me - Fringe World 2016 (27 January 2016)

Twenty years ago the internet was in its infancy. The ability to communicate with other people online was pretty much restricted to ICQ, Yahoo Messenger and, if my memory doesn’t fail me, rudimentary chat rooms such as the ones ninemsn hosted. These would seem quaint and antiquated to the youth of today. Of course, back then there was no such thing as smart phones, tablets or any number of different devices that make cyberspace so portable now. Then you were anchored to a PC that probably had less computing power than your average iPhone.

What’s fascinating about this play, however, is that despite the technological advances the issues are identical for a new generation - connection, instant gratification (sexual or otherwise), loneliness, addiction, the blurring of fantasy and reality, the anonymity of hiding behind an avatar or user name, role-playing. It’s a world I am intimately familiar with having experienced it and even written a feature film script about (The Tangled Web) that was optioned a couple of times but ultimately never made it to the big screen.  

Unlike my generation where such things were really a novelty, today’s youth expects such inter-connectivity and ease of use with untold applications in the palm of their hand. Apps like Tinder, Snapchat, Skype, Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter, Grindr, you name it. Today’s social currency is likes and retweets; reblogs and swipes; how many followers you have. The complete immersion in this world magnifies all the pros and cons of online forms of communication which is what Talk Dirty To Me explores.

Ash (Owen Lane) chats with Sam (Reilly O’Byrne-Inglis) who proudly exclaims that she likes to flirt. The conversations are overtly sexual in nature though occasionally intimate in their way. Meanwhile, Teig Sadhana plays a character who seeks acceptance and recognition through a proliferation of applications. His mood is dictated by how successful or not he is in this quest. Eventually Ash demands to meet Sam feeling a connection even though they have never had physical contact.  The meeting expectedly doesn’t go as expected.

Anyone with even a passing understanding of the internet will soon figure out the trajectory of the story. It is well trodden ground over the last decade. While somewhat predictable it is well acted and presented. Lane plays Ash with adolescent exuberance while O’Byrne-Inglis is indeed flirtatious and amusingly dismissive when required. Sadhana gives an at times wide-eyed enthusiasm to his role then crashing despondency. All have a smart phone constantly in hand or nearby. It is after all the fashion accessory de rigueur.

There are two aspects that piqued my interest – a fourth, wordless character played by Rian Howlett whose presence I initially took to be corporeal but who turns out to be far more symbolic. He engages at different points of the play in stylised dance with each of the other three characters in turn. Given the seductive then violent nature of their movements I took this to literally be the love-hate relationship with the internet that can sometimes afflict us all. Howlett was a most charismatic figure in these moments.  

Then there is the blink and you’ll miss it coda right at the very end. This was an intriguing button on a play that runs only a little over 30 minutes. If this was to be expanded to a full one act play then exploring the ramifications of Ash’s last uttered words and actions would form the backbone of the second half.

Talk Dirty To Me is a newer generation’s take on a burgeoning social problem that started twenty years ago – does too much connection leave us more isolated than ever? A The Cutting Room Floor production directed by Casey Elder from a concept by Elder and Chris Brain, it is on at The Stables until 31 January.

F**k Decaf - The Cutting Room Floor (10 February 2015)

With Fringe expanding to over 500 shows this year various locations have been pressed into service to hold the staggering amount of activity that is going on. One of these is the Frisk Small Bar in Francis Street which was perfect for this witty observation of relationships, how we change and, dare I say it, grow with the passage of time.

My inescapable conclusion at the end of the performance was that a smart, well written script in the hands of (two) talented actors is a recipe for an excellent evening of theatre.

I missed seeing this the first time around last year so was delighted it had another life at Fringe in 2015. The writer in question is Tyler Jacob Jones who had a stellar festival last year with Point & Shoot: a new musical which he co-wrote and starred in winning major awards and successfully touring on the east coast. This was his next script and talking to Jones he felt some pressure to follow-up Point & Shoot’s achievements.

In this he has succeeded admirably even restraining himself by including only one song (we won’t quibble about a burst of Leaving on a Jet Plane) - the Des’ree, um, classic, Life (okay, I confess, my pop sweet spot is more the 80s and I missed the whole ‘piece of toast’ thing!).

That song (which is revisited several times) serves as a shared memory for friends Kate (Ann-Marie Biagioni) and Ruby (Amanda Watson) though what deeper philosophical meanings did Des’ree really mean with those lyrics? I’ll leave that for Kate, Ruby and eminent scholars to decide.

The two friends periodically meet in the same cafe over a span of several years to share the highs and lows of their relationships, travels, and expectations. Kate is the sexually adventurous one while Ruby, who initially appears quite grounded, suffers through a series of relationships some more doomed than others. They talk, spar, bicker and reminisce as only good friends can. Their insights and experiences are funny but have more than a healthy dose of deft observation.

Biagioni and Watson are both excellent, the former’s character all brash and in your face; the latter’s becoming increasingly a bundle of nerves and doubts. In this, coffee plays a major part. As for decaf, well, the title gives you a pretty good idea what Kate thinks about Ruby’s conversion at one point to Pilates, vegetarianism, and a caffeine free lifestyle!

The device that sets this all up is the dinging of a bell by the waiter (Monty Sallur) that announces the end of one scene and the jump forward in time to the next. The intimate setting means the audience is almost on top of the actors with a sense we’re eavesdropping on their conversations. Each vignette reveals more about the two of them and gives both actors the opportunity to add impressive layers to their portrayals.

Most importantly, this is flat out hilarious. The moment Biagioni storms outside the bar and harangues Watson by mobile while stomping up and down Francis Street is priceless. Likewise, the fight they have that ends up leaving the small performance space a mess of coffee beans, salt, plastic cups and every manner of detritus is realistically frantic. If you sit in the first two rows you might even cop some friendly fire.

I loved this sense of play. Biagioni and Watson are totally in sync with each other and the surroundings - even the accidental breaking of a ceramic coffee mug was used to great effect. I give kudos to Frisk for allowing such an exuberant and messy show on their premises and to the actors for embracing that freedom.

There was a moment of magic towards the end that launched this into another level of intensity and possibilities - Ruby becomes aware of the device of the ringing bell. We then witness a bravura explosion of rapid fire scenes as that bell starts dinging overtime! The ensuing sense of timing and flexibility was impressive and had the audience in stitches.

This is the sort of show that is ideal for Fringe – it’s smart, witty, wonderfully performed and written, with a sense of confidence and playfulness that audiences find irresistible, certainly the one I was with on opening night. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Directed by Scott Corbett, Written by Tyler Jacob Jones, and starring Ann-Marie Biagioni, Amanda Watson and Monty Sallur, F**k Decaf has seven more shows from tonight until Sunday 22^nd February.