9 to 5: The Musical - Art In Motion Theatre Company (2 November 2024)

Who here among us hasn't dreamed of getting one over on their boss? Particularly if that boss is unfair, unscrupulous, inflexible, and demanding. Sure, those thoughts may only occasionally stray into, ahem, abduction, poisoning, and the odd, poorly aimed gunshot or two. But when you're a woman working for a "sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot" who can blame you for indulging in such fantasies? Of course, the imagination can be far more potent than reality when it comes to delivering a suitable comeuppance to someone like odious employer Franklin Hart.

The musical is based on the 1980 comedy smash hit of the same name that propelled country singer Dolly Parton into movie stardom alongside Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin. The title song became one of Parton's biggest hits and an ear worm I won't be able to shake for the next few days! I vaguely remember the movie and it's interesting watching this tale of office revenge unfold in musical form over forty years later. 

The production is well sung and well played but I admit I was struggling a little with the story itself which is pretty thin and follows a, by now, well trodden trajectory. What did grab my attention though were the imagined sequences which are far more theatrical than the familiar office politics. This is where the show shines as it frees itself from the straight jacket of representing an everyday work environment, even one beset with inequity and misogyny. When the show launches into its own "He had it coming..." sequence of The Dance of Death/Cowgirl's Revenge/Potion Notion the production hits its straps as the three leads bring the sass and vibrancy that the long office set-up had largely denied them. 

Timid new employee Judy (Stacey Gobey), high on pot, transforms into a film noir-style femme fatale, all glamour and gun toting bravado. Doralee (Jen Gadeke) who is the object of Hart's lust and victim of unsavoury office gossip, turns the southern belle into a formidable cowgirl; and Violet (Sarah McCabe), overlooked and underappreciated, morphs into a murderous Snow White who's brewing up a potion to off the biggest rat of all. 

Hart himself, played by Aaron Lucas, shrinks before their wrath as they imagine ways to end his tenure in terminal fashion. These startling character changes are supported by clever costume reveals; complete switch in lighting palette; and the ensemble playing up to the inherent absurdity of it all, most amusingly in the fairy tale setting. 

Other imagined scenes that pop - the one that sets the template as Lucas embraces the lecherous nature of Franklin Hart as he objectifies Doralee in Here For You which is both funny and repulsive at the same time; in some ways the reverse perspective as the obsequious assistant Roz (Mary Carter) pines for Hart in Heart to Hart; and Violet getting her Roxie moment early in the second act with One of the Boys. 

Gobey is excellent as Judy, giving the divorcee a real sense of vulnerability as she adjusts to new circumstances before breaking out of her shell culminating in the impassioned Get Out and Stay Out.

Gadeke brings the southern drawl, the swagger, big hair, and bigger voice in the role Parton made famous. It's an eye-catching performance with Backwoods Barbie an early highlight. 

McCabe's office-bound Violet is very straight-laced and almost underplayed so the change up for the imagined scenes is a welcome contrast. She has a tender moment with Joe (Liam Tickner) in the ballad Let Love Grow. 

The three leads complement each other vocally with numbers such as I Just Might and Shine Like The Sun while embracing the increasingly screwball nature of the revenge arc. I also liked the variation in costumes to signpost their character traits with Gobey in dowdy outfits; Gadeke in figure hugging dresses; and McCabe in practical office attire.   

Lucas revels in the lewd nature of Hart before submitting meekly in the revenge fantasies including a fun costume choice that deflates Hart's ego in delicious fashion. This may be an odd thing to say for such a slimy character but his presence is missed for most of the second act. 

Carter impresses as Roz though the character, through today's eyes, is a little problematic in her fawning over a cad like Hart. Carter almost makes me feel sorry for her in 5 to 9 which is an achievement in itself. Tickner lends Joe a fundamental decency and there is a large ensemble that spice up the big dance numbers and provide comedic beats; notably Keri-Rose Baker as office lush Margaret, Terence Smith as the oblivious Dick, and Rp van der Westhuizen as salt-of-the-earth Dwayne. 

Musical directors Tara Oorjitham and Jasper Cruden marshal a 12 piece band who play the upbeat score with brassy flair. My initial concern about that size band situated in front of the stage with no pit was quickly alleviated as they accompany the mic'd up actors well. 

It's a busy set with lots of transitions but a large team of stagehands did so effectively and I liked the fold-out flats that were cleverly designed to present multiple configurations. Those and rear screen projections gave us a clear sense of place and, I must say, there was an impressive array of office props including a full-size office printer at one point.

Director Lys Tickner has drawn out some very strong performances here, however, I was far more engaged with the imagined sequences which are full of energy and creativity. The music is infectious and the songs are well performed. In the end our heroines triumph in toe-tapping fashion.    

9 to 5: The Musical is on at the Don Russell Performing Arts Centre until 10 November. 

Pipedream - Blue Room Theatre Presented with Brent Rollins & STRUT Dance (17 October 2024)

Water. An element that sponsors strong memories such as darting through sprinklers as a child on a hot summer's day or that unmistakable smell coming off baked tarmacadam at the first good downpour. The sensation of downing a glass of cold water to soothe a parched throat or luxuriating at the feel of it on your skin in a shower or pool or at the beach. Most times we take it for granted. Until it becomes scarce. Precious. Yearned for. A situation that has become far too prevalent for many in regional areas as drought grips the countryside. A crisis that grows ever more dire. 

This original, hourlong contemporary dance performance choreographed by Brent Rollins explores the impact of relentless drought on the people who must endure it. A country boy who grew up on a farm, Rollins brings lived in experience to vividly portray the moods such a predicament engenders. There are clearly defined sections like movements in a symphony that cover a gamut of emotions as the two performers - Sophie Sibbons and Natassija Morrow - dance, glide, and cavort across the main Blue Room stage. 

Now, I'm in no way qualified to talk about the technical aspects from a dance perspective. What I can discuss are all the elements used to present a compelling narrative that captured my attention, held it, and had me appreciating the beauty of the human body in motion in service of a coherent theme. 

That thematic intent begins before we even walk into the theatre proper. Each audience member is invited to dunk a small glass into a bucket of water and pour it into a funnel connected to a pipe. It's a simple act but one that is tactile and communal which sets up what is to come perfectly. 

There's a telling juxtaposition as we go from the flow of water in the foyer to the sound of sporadic dripping. The two performers are silent and still on the floor, next to empty buckets begging to be filled. A lattice work of white piping is suspended overhead. To one side of the stage is a clutch of pipes of varying length and width that appear like a rickety picket fence that cleverly opens to allow for the retrieval and storage of props. The floor is painted to represent the dirt of the land but with concentric circles which hint at the cycles involved. The set design by William Gammel has some other surprises, one of which involves a high level of trust between the performers and stage manager Jasmine Valentini; another depicting a brief respite before the cycle will begin again. 

The lighting design by Jolene Whibley is stunning in its representation of never-ending harsh sunlight or heat infused nights to the prospect of rain to the eventual storm that finally comes. It also bathes or shades the performers to enhance the evocative nature of their movement. The thought and execution of the lighting plot is matched by the soundscape and original score by composer Azariah Felton. Each section has a distinctive style and beat as we move from moments of despair and frustration to the joy of a country dance and the exuberance of play as a distraction to the boredom inflicted by stifling heat. At one point metallic tapping echoes across us in what I took to represent the inside of an empty water tank. Then there's the howl of wind sweeping across the arid land that opens the performance, deliberately unsettling and effective. 

Sibbons and Morrow work incredibly well together. The tenderness and trust between them is palpable. I loved the intensity of their connection through unflinching eye contact and their expressiveness in celebrating joy amongst the adversity. A sequence involving plastic bags reminded me of a famous beat from the movie American Beauty - there is beauty in the simplest of things... even if it's catching blowflies.

Each gets a highlight of their own - Sibbons in a sensual exploration of the feel of even the smallest drops of water against the skin; Morrow in a precise navigation of the water levels literally falling towards her. Their synchronised movement reflects the mood of any particular sequence - sombre, playful, joyous, elegant and there is an interesting burst of what felt like blame in literal finger pointing as their interactions become more boisterous towards the end. Depicting the highs and lows of surviving the harshness of the environment means this journey feels authentic and earned. 

Dance isn't usually something I attend so I didn't really know what to expect walking in. I was more than impressed with the high level of execution across all facets that created a cohesive and arresting work that was memorable. There are only two more performances at The Blue Room Theatre, 18-19 October. Well worth a look. 

*photos by Sophie Minissale

TILT 2024: Program Two - WAAPA (19 September 2024)

The Blue Room Theatre situated in the city's cultural centre is at the heart of independent and experimental theatre in Perth. It is the natural home for the third year performance makers from WAAPA who will go on to create daring and original work for venues like this throughout the country and beyond after they graduate. 

TILT is the annual showcase of the prowess of these students undertaking a Bachelor of Performing Arts and is conducted over two programs. I caught up with Program Two. What a diverse collection of devised works it is too - from a Western parody to an intermedial exploration of connection; a chilling interrogation of what fate may mean as a young woman; a stylised movement piece; and the inner voices in our head that affect our moods for good and bad.

The beauty of short works like this is that they are open to interpretation. What I took away from each section may differ from other people for any number of reasons. Part of the experience, therefore, is the discussions afterwards with the students, staff, and other audience members as we ponder meaning, themes, and execution. I have to say, what a great way to spend a spring evening! It's a safe space for the devisers and it was encouraging to see so many students from other streams such as music theatre and acting in the crowd. 

We kick off with Cowboys and Indians which initially is a jarring transition from a forthright and respectful Acknowledgement of Country. Our hero, Sketch (Fletcher Scully) sets off to find his missing mother after discovering she's Native American. Any misgivings about referencing another indigenous culture soon dissipate as it quickly becomes clear this is more a Blazing Saddles style parody. Sketch is joined on his quest by a feisty Tiahna Johnson as they encounter a couple of hapless, would be robbers (Sam Rumpel and Rueben Mongoo) whilst trying to dodge the legendary Lake-bound Lawman (Kurtis Brown). 

This short tale directed by Shontae Wright leans into many of the expected tropes of the American Western with a knowing wink, a southern drawl, and a healthy dose of physical performance from boot scootin' to mock fight choreography and pratfalls aplenty. It didn't quite stick the landing, feeling more like the beginning of Sketch's quest. No doubt, sometimes at night, when I'm sitting around a campfire eating beans, I'll wonder, "how'd ol' Sketch get on findin' his ma?" It's a funny and quirky beginning.

Next up is the conceptually intriguing Road Moving attributed to director/deviser Isobel Finnie. Here, two audience members respond to requests screened on the wall via a data show as Finnie types an amusing screed that is part commentary on modern anxiety and the need for connection plus a strong improvisational aspect as she reacts to rapid-fire typos and the actions of the two participants. Sitting right next to Finnie, I was charmed by her genuine joy at unexpected beats and a clear sense of personality through typed words. It's a fine example of doing more with less in the, well, usually, black box space at the venue (all white for this run).

After interval is a beautifully written and performed piece that is impressive in its thematic cohesion and indignation called Femoid. This is an exploration of the horrendous ramifications of Incel culture on young women and is genuinely harrowing in parts. The sense of unease is magnified by the projection of verbatim messages from chat rooms and excellent use of discordant music. Writer Iris Warren sets up a striking and unexpected motif that comes from Caesar crossing the Rubicon in 47 BC with the saying Iacta Alea Est (Let the die be cast) which is paid off in stunning fashion. There's also the provocative use of the word 'fate' throughout that is eventually turned on its head. Directed by Izabella Day and performed with precision by Iris Warren, Roisin Wallace-Nash, and Natasha Pearson, Femoid has an urgency and power that is compelling.

This is followed by The Sink, all stylised movement and exaggerated expressions when the performers periodically emerge from underneath a huge, translucent fabric that shimmies and glides with their efforts. This one is perhaps most open to interpretation. I initially thought this was the birthing process of some supernatural form of creature before settling on the creation of life itself as another audience member remarked, from primordial ooze. Whatever your take, it showcases the importance of the human body and its movement as an integral part of the performance maker's arsenal. Directed by Lucy Nunn and performed by Jiarui Lin, Emily Jenkins, Kurtis Brown, Oliver Clare, and Talia Zipper.

The program closes out with Eat Shit! notable for the demolishing of an apple and the threat of likewise happening to an onion, Tony Abbott style! I loved that the two performers - Oliver Clare and Iris Warren - supplied their own sound design; the former with the slurping of glasses of wine, the latter with the crunch of that apple being devoured before the lip-smacking cleansing of fingers. What transpires felt to me like the dramatic representation of the internal monologue we all carry on in our head every day and how that can be corrosive like a worm eating us from inside. But also the power of positive self talk to get us out of a rut. Directed with moments of mischief by Henry Kent this, again, is one to ponder!

An enjoyable evening witnessing the realisation of original works and for the discussions afterwards, TILT runs until 21 September at the Blue Room.

Cast photos by Stephen Heath Photography

Hairspray - HAMA Productions (18 September 2024)

There's a reason Hairspray won 8 Tony Awards in 2003 including Best Musical. The songs are terrific, it has an upbeat tempo, a crowd-pleasing ending, and positive messages about inclusion, body image, and speaking up for what is right no matter what the odds. I first saw it on stage in 2012 at the Mandurah Performing Arts Centre and it quickly became one of my favourite musicals.

That community theatre production went on to win four Finley Awards and is notable for a couple of other reasons - it featured a certain Jason Arrow as Seaweed who would later originate the Australian role of Alexander Hamilton in the mega-hit musical; and Tate Bennett, in the ensemble here, was Finley nominated for his portrayal of Corny Collins.    

Twelve years later and the show is getting a lavish staging at the Crown Theatre. In the lead up to the run I watched all the announcements on social media with growing interest as a stellar roster of performers and creatives was being assembled under Vincent Hooper who directed last year's All Shook Up at Crown. This is an exceptionally talented company and, significantly, the number of people who are either from WA or trained here is impressive. 

Perth doesn't get all the big touring shows - the aforementioned Hamilton has literally been everywhere else but Perth - so the importance of producing a local show that can credibly fill the spacious Crown Theatre can't be understated. It showcases our homegrown talent, entices expatriates to come back, and signals to the professionals recruited from interstate that there are viable opportunities westwards. 

The show is deep into its run and there are no signs of any of the early teething problems that may have been evident on opening night. The sound balance between vocals and orchestra is good though I would have liked a little more volume in the big, set piece numbers. Lyrics are concise, set transitions slick, and the production feels like it's in a comfortable rhythm.  

With a big venue comes the need for big production values and it's clear that the instruction has been to dial everything up to eleven - big performances and big hair with a larger-than-life look in everything from costuming to lighting design and the set itself. 

There's no doubt this is a visual treat. I may be colour blind but Lucy Birkinshaw's lighting bathes the performers with such vibrancy and sheer style that even I was gawking with approval. The set by Michael McVeigh is a marvel of highly detailed and functional trucks and other elements that put us in this stylised version of 1962 Baltimore. The studio where the Corny Collins Show is aired feels like a fairy-tale land; visually and, more importantly, thematically as the views and values of the Von Tussles are at odds with the reality of a diverse America. Costumes and wigs by Marina Del Basso are bold and bright though I'm not sure about the exaggerated bouffant that adorned the head of Corny Collins. That one felt too over the top for mine but it's a minor quibble. 

Choreographer Thern Reynolds joins forces with Hooper once more and the results are again outstanding. Movement and dance styles are an integral part of the story and the delineation is done well before it all comes together in the toe-tapping finale. The 13 piece orchestra under Musical Director Harry Oliff does tremendous justice to the Tony-winning score which is infectious.

What struck me at today's matinee is how well matched pivotal pairings are throughout the show. First and foremost is Paige Fallu who is simply tremendous as Tracy Turnblad. Fallu sings beautifully, radiates enthusiasm, and has genuine chemistry with John Berry's Link Larkin. Berry has all the moves and matinee idol looks in a role that subverts the expectations those attributes bring. Their work together is excellent as the backbone of the show.

Chelsea Plumley and Elaina O'Connor are the presumptive villains of the piece, Velma and Amber Von Tussle. Plumley delights in chewing the scenery while O'Connor is increasingly honing her fine comic instincts to enhance genuine leading lady talent.

Rob Palmer, in what may pass as celebrity casting, is more Travolta than Fierstein as Edna Turnblad. He gives a good account of himself and his rendition of (You're) Timeless To Me with a suitably goofy Brendan Hanson as Wilbur develops into a funny and charming highlight with both performers revelling in the audience response. 

Bella McSporran and Jacob Steen increasingly become a potent combination as Penny and Seaweed. That 'transgressive' relationship is well handled and greatly appreciated by a modern audience who audibly gasped at many of the supposed societal norms from over sixty years ago.

Then there are two standout performers who bring the charm in Joshua Firman's Corny Collins and the vocal authority in Paula Parore as Motor Mouth Maybelle. Firman plays the host to perfection while Parore starts slowly with the best number - I Know Where I've Been - building until it flowers into an irresistible powerhouse of an anthem. 

Outrageous talent abounds in smaller parts and the ensemble with performers such as Bennett as well as Ethan Churchill and Tory Kendrick who only a few months ago were playing the leads in Saturday Night Fever. Adding to the embarrassment of riches are local luminaries Elethea Sartorelli and Tim How in a multitude of roles.  

Vincent Hooper, producers Marina Del Basso and Hamish McSporran have assembled a first class company in all aspects. The show is bright, entertaining, bold, and sounds terrific. I suspect that after this and All Shook Up, an annual Hooper directed musical might become a Crown tradition. Here's hoping...

Hairspray is on at the Crown Theatre until 28 September. 

God of Carnage - Melville Theatre Company (15 September 2024)

Two sets of parents sit on either side of a lounge room. The topic of discussion? One child has hit another child with a stick dislodging two teeth. A serious matter requiring mediation. My mind wanders to similar scenarios such as The Slap where this sort of confrontation is fraught with emotion and conflict. Then something interesting happens almost immediately. This play isn't what I'm expecting; oh no, not at all. 

This is where we need to stop and talk about great writing. French writer, Yasmina Reza, knows what those expectations are and immediately sets about subverting them. It's as if she has decided to choose the exact opposite of every beat in the familiar trajectory of this type of story. It's clever, it's intriguing, and is an absolute boon for the actors and director who get to play against type in varying ways. It's also a joy for the audience as they pick up on the sly humour and mischief of it all. 

There's a use of language that entices with oddly constructed phrases and formal words that seem out of kilter with the setting and these characters. The unseen children are talked about as if they're adults and the parents slowly devolve into the antics of children as the play progresses. There are bouts of inspired lunacy as things become more frantic. Alliances form, break apart, and reform in surprising ways amongst the four characters. 

The writing is deliciously playful and smart in its subversion of expected tropes. The ultimate aim is to explore the fault lines in two marriages and chart their demise with a healthy dose of glee and black comedy. In short, I loved Reza's script. 

My curiosity is piqued from the get go. It was all so polite in the opening conversations. Characters were agreeing to certain statements instead of arguing. It felt like a comedy of manners. Things begin to slowly shift until a spectacular comic act makes it clear to any audience members who haven't picked up on the tone what's transpiring. I won't spoil it here but it had me squirming in the best possible way! Indeed, the movement of the play through its crisp 80 minutes with no intermission is best experienced without foreknowledge. 

The writing also allows for this - a fixed set and four characters only. No need for transitions to slow things down. Even when characters want to leave, the script finds ways to keep them trapped in this room. Director Thomas Dimmick has clearly given his cast license to play and play they do with the stage manager, James Gant, having quite the clean up job after the show ends. Again, I love this sort of messiness as it comes from the actors being free to embrace the absurdity of it all. There's a fascinating dance happening as the blocking reflects the shift in character dynamics and interactions.

Dimmick's set is well appointed with sumptuous lounge chairs and lounge, a wine rack built into a cabinet, a coffee table that will weather any form of precipitation, and ceremonial African face masks mounted and lit (Clare Talbot) on the rear wall. Costumes by Michelle Sharp reinforce the differing status of every character in relation to each other and how they see themselves. 

The actors rise to the material and you can sense their joy at sinking their teeth into such well written fare. Brian O'Donovan plays what at first appears to be the everyman father who sells domestic supplies and has a dislike for rodents. His Irish accent and cheeky laugh make for a genial portrayal of a guy who simply wants everybody to get along... until we scratch beneath the surface. Taneeka Grant is the serious minded writer who goes from being passive-aggressive to openly hostile to unhinged as the aggrieved mother who's horrified at what's happened and her husband's attitude towards it. 

Patrick Derrig is the high flying lawyer glued to his bluetooth as calls periodically come in. His matter-of-fact nature and greater concern for a possible class action lawsuit eventually rubs everyone up the wrong way... including, amusingly, some audience members who audibly cringed every time his mobile vibrated with another call. Ruhama Rowe leads the fightback in defending her son while excelling in outbursts of physical comedy that caught me off-guard which made them even more potent. At one point a bottle of rum is added to the equation which only exacerbates the inherent grievances and misgivings each character has towards the others. 

I really enjoyed this. Beautifully written, wonderfully acted, and smartly directed. It was a smallish crowd for the Sunday evening show, however, I expect positive word of mouth will drive those numbers up as this is a real gem. 

God of Carnage is on at Melville Theatre until 28 September.

Photos by David Cox

Dead Man's Cell Phone - KADS (11 September 2024)

The cell phone or mobile phone in our parlance. Back in 2007 when Sarah Ruhl's play premiered the first iPhone was only a few weeks away from being introduced. In the 17 years since, digital devices have fundamentally changed how we communicate, how we consume entertainment and news, and how we conduct our daily lives. Arguments rage about the pros and cons of such a massive sea change with governments now seeking to restrict access to social media and apps - two things ushered in and accelerated by smartphone technology - on an age basis. That initial iPhone would probably look quite quaint to us now but it changed the world.  

The play purports to explore how this technology separates us and brings us together. Having seen two different productions in the last year I would contend it does so only on a superficial basis. Which may be quite understandable - how could Ruhl have known how addictive the mobile device would become when coupled with insidious algorithms and apps designed to maximise screen time?  

The dramatic conceit of the play is a clever one, albeit one that has a baked in question that is problematic. A woman eating alone in a cafe hears a mobile phone constantly ringing. She approaches the owner of said phone only to discover - as an audience member so helpfully exclaimed - that he is dead. She answers the phone... 

Thus begins a cascading series of events as Jean (Louise Fishwick) becomes entangled in the dead man's affairs as she continually answers calls from his mistress, his mother, and, what we later find out to be, shady business associates. 

I wonder why. The excuse given is that answering the phone will keep the memory of Gordon alive. A man she does not know. Okay, that's a lovely if somewhat abstract sentiment but it doesn't explain Jean's compulsion to lie and dig herself into deeper holes as she tells Gordon's mistress, mother, wife, and brother blatant fabrications about his last words. It makes me ponder how many people are already dead... a conundrum that deepens as the play slides into surreal territory in the second act. I suspect there is no definitive answer and the play remains elusive on this front. 

I enjoyed Fishwick's earnest portrayal as Jean. The lies feel more impulsive and never knowingly malicious, assisted by a natural Scottish accent. Julie Holmshaw is a delight as the eccentric mother of the dead man who switches from acerbic observations to performative grief with relish. Clare Alason brings casual bitchiness to the mistress, Carlotta, and an exaggerated air to "The Other Woman" in the second act's airport scene that catapults us into strange territory indeed. 

Federica Longo-Huntington's moment as Hermia comes in the bar scene where she plays the always tricky 'drunk' with flair. Usman Banday is awkward playing an awkward character in Gordon's brother. I was never quite sure where I stood with his representation of Dwight. The burgeoning romance with Jean is oddly sweet yet unconvincing. The dead man himself is played by Paul Cook who comes to life in the second half as he narrates the events before his death. This halting monologue had Cook searching for the words and emotions. He fares much better in Gordon's later interactions with Jean as we revisit that fateful cafe in a totally different context.   

Director Phil Bedworth has made many interesting choices, some forced on him by the unique challenges of the small performance space at KADS. The play scoots along and felt much shorter than the previous incarnation I saw last year while retaining all the same scenes. Bedworth leans into the ambiguous nature of the setting by using a stark set design and stripping out ambient noise (except for the airport scene) - are we in perpetual limbo or purgatory or...? This is aided by the stagehands wearing masks suggesting a ghostly presence as set changes are made. These are slow but accompanied by some great music choices from the late 60s/early 70s. Restricted viewing from the back rows makes characters lying down an issue such as in the stationery sequences. 

The one overtly thematic sequence about the mobile as connective tissue, even between worlds, is visually interesting with props, costume, and lighting design as otherworldly figures surround Jean and Gordon, however, the sound of the phone messages needed to be far crisper to be understandable.

This is an unusual play that has several moments of black comedy. Its twists are enigmatic and this sponsored healthy debate afterwards. For me, putting the technology aspect of the phone aside, the main message is our aching need to be told we are loved and to embrace that, even from beyond the grave. 

Dead Man's Cell Phone is on at the KADS Theatre in Kalamunda until 21 September. 

Nora: A Doll's House - WAAPA (9 September 2024)

Thematic potency. A powerful force when a production has something on its mind and every aspect is crafted to support that vision with crystal clear intent. So it is with this adaptation of the classic Ibsen play written by Stef Smith and directed by visiting professional (and WAAPA graduate) Sonya Suares. 

The original story is now conducted over three moments in time - 1918, 1968, and 2018 - as three versions of Nora, a mother and wife, seek to ultimately break free from the expectations and control of her husband and the societal norms of the time. While much has evolved over those hundred years - technology, fashion, suffrage, attitudes towards sex and sexuality - the layering of the tale over these distinct eras provocatively asks, "how much has really changed in terms of equality?"

The years are specific signposts - 1918 saw the introduction of voting rights for women in Britain and Ireland... providing you were over 30 and met minimum property qualifications. By 1968 the 'swinging sixties' were a cultural revolution with London its epicentre. It's also the year after the Sexual Offences Act no longer made consenting, private sex acts between men over 21 illegal. The contraceptive pill was introduced in the 60s which ushered in a sea change for reproductive rights. 

Which brings us to 2018 as the #metoo movement exploded into the headlines, and those reproductive rights were under assault, especially in America, where the Republican party prosecuted its grotesque obsession with controlling a woman's body leading to the overturning of Roe v. Wade.  

That's the context. The execution is exceptional in all areas - from acting to intricacy of movement, the symbolism of the set, the glorious costumes, and the use of lighting and sound to immerse us in Nora's perspective. It's the second production I've seen this year after Head Over Heels that has utilised the Roundhouse Theatre to such spectacular effect. There is so much subtlety and attention to detail that it's no wonder the show was in rehearsals for weeks. The payoff is sublime.

There is such an embarrassment of riches it's difficult to know where to begin. So let's start with...

Nora 1 (1918) played by Bridget Bourke as an elegant and proper woman with a refined English accent whose unravelling is brilliantly crafted.

Nora 2 (1968) where the character's essential unhappiness is magnified by Sookyung Shin's forthright performance including revelations about Nora's attitude towards the children and her own desires.

Nora 3 (2018) sees Alexandria Henderson excel as a modern woman trapped by circumstances she can't control. Henderson's emotional responses are exquisite especially when Angelo Torres' Daniel imparts shattering news. 

Thomas 3 (1918) is portrayed by Oliver English as a man of status who gaslights his wife 26 years before that term came into being (from the 1944 film Gaslight). It's a wonderfully controlled and controlling performance.

Thomas 1 (2018) - by contrast, the modern day version is far more overt in his dominance over his wife and Riley Warner tackles the unsavoury aspects of this iteration with commitment and physicality.

Thomas 2 (1968) - interestingly, the 60s version sees Thomas Bitti as a more blokey representation that sits between the insidious and overt. Seemingly less harmful on the surface, Bitti adds some nice wrinkles including a moment the character flounders trying to make Nora's salvation all about him.

Christine 2 (1968) has the most to do of the Christines and Mia Fitzgerald is all concern and empathy as the character tries to help the emotionally lost Nora.

Daniel 2 & 3 (1918/68) is played with such affability by Joshua Everett as the friend whose illness is so devastating. Notable that the character confides in Nora and not Thomas. 

Daniel 1 (2018) is given such a vulnerable air by Angelo Torres which comes to the fore in a startling scene we'll come to later. 

Nathan 1 (2018) - the catalyst for all the dramatic danger that besets Nora. Deep Sroa plays the blackmailer with a largely restrained desperation that is compelling. 

Dinasha Perera, Natasha Pearson, Antony Press, and Uisce Goriss-Dazeley are all good in smaller roles; especially the later whose character's change of heart is a critical moment.

The intricate staging as these iterations weave in and out of scenes in various combinations is remarkably conceived and executed by Sonya Suares and Movement Director Sam Chester. I was never once lost in the story and this is aided immeasurably by the work of Set & Costume Designer Ella Firns. Each time period is clearly delineated with subtle thematic differences in the costumes - I loved how the men in 1918 are all in multiple layers of three piece suits and overcoats while Thomas in 2018 is in a simple white T-shirt at one point. With the opposite being true of Nora who goes from simple elegance to the modern day version wearing layers. The three versions of the party dress are lovely echoes of each other to reflect the time periods.

The set design is also deceptively simple but thematically resonant. Towards the top of the thrust we have a chaise lounge, table and a couple of chairs. At the rear of the stage, a large flat with three elongated doorways is suspended. To my mind it was like a time portal. Nora 1918 would always enter from the doorway, audience right; Nora 1968 from the middle; Nora 2018 from the left. 

The highlight of the play is when the flat collapses with the three Noras now joined together across time as they plead for their right, and the right of all women, to have their own agency, and the freedom to pursue their own goals and desires; free of the controlling ways of men and expectations of society. Not seen as simply wives and mothers but human beings. It's incredibly moving and powerful. 

Other highlights - Bourke's monologue about voting for the first time; Henderson's rejoinder where blood is a linking symbol of still being alive emotionally; and then there's the extraordinary moment of intimacy between Henderson and Torres, mirrored by Shin and Everett, where Nora freely and willingly asks to be touched. Complex, devastating, heartbreaking. Later contrasted when Thomas initiates contact without consent. 

The children are heard through excellent sound design by David Stewart but never seen. It's as if the mere suggestion of them (by Thomas) will always be an anchor for Nora to stay but that final cathartic outburst skewers this. Mentions also to Jakob Dorst for the evocative lighting design and vocal coach Jean Goodwin - the accent work, clarity and synchronisation of dialogue is excellent.

It's a remarkable production and a stunning way for the graduating Acting students to close out the year with wonderful support by the Production & Design students. There may still be tickets available for Tuesday through to Thursday, 10-12 September. I highly recommend you try and snag a ticket.

Photos by Stephen Heath Photography