There is much to like about this play that emerged from the
development crucible of the Black Swan Emerging Writers Group. It is an
exquisitely handsome production to look at from the detailed costumes to Joe
Lui’s evocative lighting design to the velvet draped surrounds of the set. It
is an interesting premise with rich dialogue that befits the theatricality of
the subject matter and good performances, none finer than Greg McNeill’s
Cornell Wurlitzer. Ultimately, however, the play didn’t work for me due to some
scripting issues and, notably, a decision on how to present one of the central
characters, the so-called Ape Woman, Julia Pastrana, played by Adriane Daff.
Indeed, the story is about how Pastrana’s husband Theodore
Lent (Luke Hewitt) exploits her notorious appearance for financial gain, both
as an ‘exhibit’ in a travelling freak show and for examination by curious
physicians. When Pastrana becomes pregnant their relationship takes on all the
aspects of a searing tragedy and there is no denying the power of some of
these moments, notably the birth and its aftermath.
The essential concern is this. Pastrana is referred to and describes herself as a
monster, hideous and grotesque, covered in fur. When first we see the character
she is clad from top to bottom and sporting a veil. Once revealed, however,
there is seemingly no attempt to disguise the elfin Daff’s delicate beauty. This
is no monster; this is not someone to recoil from. The issue is further
exacerbated by the fact that we never see how an audience reacts to her
Pastrana; how humiliating those examinations might be. We are only told how
difficult the character’s life is yet never witness it.
While I understand it might be problematic to present the
character as a full on ‘freak’, this was far too safe an option. If you’re
going to tell me over and over and over how hideous this person is then I’d
rather you swing for the fences and possibly miss than seemingly avoid the
situation. It is a critical suspension of disbelief issue. Daff is otherwise
fine in the role though saddled somewhat with an exaggerated accent that made
her sound like a naïve child at times.
There were also a few curious scripting issues. The play
opens with a wonderfully theatrical Hewitt as carnival barker entreating us to be
amazed and horrified at such a creature. It hooked me straight away and had me
eagerly awaiting what comes next as any salesman might wish. Only to be
disappointed when the next scene not only doesn’t reveal the ‘monster’ but
takes us to a drawing room where Igor Sas (Doctor Gregory Alyokhin) gives a
long monologue about Russian ghosts.
Sorry, what? I thought we were talking
about physical appearance and how we marvel at and fear those that are different.
How inner beauty triumphs over outer monstrosity. A Russian ghost story felt
thematically like a totally different play and it’s a lot of stage time to chew
up so early. The essence of that scene, when we finally get to the point, is Alyokhin
requesting to examine Pastrana and Lent coldly demanding a princely sum to do
so. The delay in getting there stalled the momentum so precisely won at the
opening.
Contrast this with the wonderfully written and beautifully
performed monologue by McNeill as Wurlitzer recounts the tale of discovering
co-joined twins. It cuts straight to the heart of not only the fascination with
physical otherness but the beguiling economic implications for those who are
poor beyond measure and the opportunists that prey on them. I was squirming in
my seat at the gut-wrenching tale in all its manifest horror.
Likewise, the play ends with Hewitt reprising the opening
introduction but now through the prism of all the tragedy and heartless gain as
a result. It is a perfect conclusion as he recedes into the shadows, the character
more monstrous than any he could ever hope to exhibit. Yet the play continues
with a long scene that felt like the sort of epilogue you really would be
better off Googling at home. Sure, there is some pleasure in watching two
stalwarts of the local theatre scene in McNeill and Sas mixing it up but it was
a redundant expository scene that leached away the impact of Hewitt’s exit.
The other player here is Rebecca Davis as the long and
lithesome acrobat Marian Trumbull, a character who is not only cheating on her
husband with Lent, but is concocting more extreme acts to remain relevant. Why
would the punters pay to watch feats of skill when there is an ape-woman to
behold? Bold and exuding more than a faint sense of desperation it’s a
well-judged performance.
A couple of other excellent scenes feature Hewitt, first
with Daff as the two are at loggerheads about what to do with the baby, his
solution so implacably practical and horrific; the second as McNeill’s Wurlitzer
takes Lent to task for going too far. For a man who has seen it all even
Wurlitzer is disgusted by the depths Lent will go to and Hewitt doesn’t blink
when pushing that envelope.
Black Swan sometimes falls too in love with the technical wizardry on offer and
director Stuart Halusz’s decision to use a rotating stage – a central circle
and an outer rim that both moved independent of each other – took me out of the
‘old world’ so meticulously crafted with music, costuming, lighting, sound
design, props such as a working gramophone, and makeup. The slickness of
revolving pieces of set into place worked against the sense of mystery and
weight of history that hangs over the story. Actors could also be seen behind
the string curtain moving props and pieces of set onto that revolving stage
while scenes were in progress.
It is, however, undoubtedly an audacious tale by playwright
Nathaniel Moncrieff and shows yet again the strength of the local writing
talent in this state. What a wonderful opportunity to have it performed at the
Studio Underground with such a strong cast. With some judicious rearrangement
and editing of the script and bolder choices in terms of execution this could
be a memorable work. At the moment though it doesn’t quite convince but is
worth the price of admission to gawk at a theatrical curiosity newly given
birth.
Written by Nathaniel Moncrieff, Directed by Stuart Halusz
and starring Adriane Daff, Rebecca Davis, Luke Hewitt, Greg McNeill, and Igor
Sas, A Perfect Specimen is on at the State Theatre Centre until 17 July.
*images courtesy of Daniel James Grant
*images courtesy of Daniel James Grant
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