A View From The Bridge - WAAPA (30 April 2016)

Respect. Pride. Honour. What it means to be a man. The man. In the family. In the neighbourhood. In an insulated world where work is scarce and masculinity paramount. Where your name and reputation mean everything. To lose that is to lose everything.

A View From The Bridge follows last year’s WAAPA production of another Arthur Miller play, All My Sons. The depth of insight in Miller’s writing about the male condition is exemplary and in the character of Eddie finds a subject who is undone by his own misconceptions and anxieties about his responsibilities as a man. It is a tragedy of Eddie’s own making which heightens the devastating conclusion.  

  

The setting is a waterfront neighbourhood of early 50s Brooklyn. Longshoreman Eddie (Giuseppe Rotondella) works on the docks and lives in an apartment with his wife Beatrice (Elle Mickel) and beautiful 17 year old niece Catherine (Brittany Santariga). He is overly protective of “Catie” and reluctantly acquiesces to allow her to take a job as a stenographer at a plumbing company.

When two brothers, Marco (Joel Davies) and Rodolpho (Rory O’Keeffe) are taken in by Eddie after being smuggled into the US by ship from an impoverished Italy, fractures begin to appear. Catie falls for the charming Rodolpho which so disturbs Eddie that he seeks the advice of lawyer Alfieri (Lachlan Ruffy). He claims “something ain’t right” about the blonde Italian who sings, helps Catie make a dress, wants to visit Broadway, and shows other ‘effeminate’ traits. Eddie thinks Rodolpho is on the scam so he can stay in the country and become a citizen but deeper, more troubling reasons emerge as to the true source of Eddie’s anxiety.

He begins to persecute Rodolpho which alienates his wife, his niece, and brings him into conflict with Marco. Eddie escalates matters out of his control when Catie is determined to marry Rodolpho. The result of his unthinkable betrayal so incenses Marco that the two men are bound together by the strictures of disputed honour on a destructive trajectory neither can abandon. Like All My Sons, the play slowly simmers and ratchets up the tension until it all explodes in a powerhouse finale.

Rotondella as Eddie gives one of the finest performances I have seen at WAAPA in the last few years. There are so many layers revealed from the forthright, cocksure man’s man who is confident in his position and status to the slow unravelling of that certainty as Eddie’s pre-eminence is questioned by all around him. The sense of discomfort he displays as Eddie tries to vocalise his disgust of Rodolpho to Alfieri – clutching his hat so tightly he almost mangles it as he rotates the brim over and over. The sheer anguish he bellows as Eddie is bent over double at the realisation of what he has done and its horrible ramifications. There is a calculated moment of machismo as he teaches Rodolpho to box, putting the young Italian in his place with sharp authority and a gleam in the eye. This is matched by the dismay Rotondella allows Eddie as Marco silently threatens him with a true display of strength. Then there’s the ending where the actor cuts loose with all the pent up bile and anger of self-loathing, masked in the name of reclaiming respect. From start to finish it is a riveting performance.

It is followed very closely by Santariga as Catherine, playing a 17 year old on the cusp of womanhood. She inhabits Catie with an innocence that belies her beauty as the young girl is unaware of the impact of how she dresses and behaves around the men in the neighbourhood. Santariga exhibits a girlish enthusiasm as she scampers around the apartment keen to please her Uncle and Aunty while pouting at setbacks and pleading for her independence. The immediate infatuation she shows with Rodolpho is nicely portrayed as is the growing strength as the young girl matures into a woman with marriage on the horizon and the need to find her own way. The complex relationship with Eddie is handled with assurance as is the exuberance of first love with Rodolpho.

O’Keeffe plays Rodolpho with a joyous disregard of the judgements swirling around about the character’s sexuality and motives. His suitor is charming and an idealist which is a nice counterpoint to the hardnosed realism of the docks. It’s an engaging portrayal. By comparison the powerfully built Davies is almost a silence presence, his Marco slow to talk and to act but when he does it is with notable brutishness.

Mickel portrays Eddie’s wife as a pragmatist and voice of reason within the household. Her Beatrice effectively stands up to Eddie and gives Catie maternal advice which becomes more insistent as the true nature of the situation dawns on the character. Exhibiting a fine comic sensibility in previous WAAPA productions, it was refreshing to see Mickel tackle a dramatic role which she imbued with moments of humour and humanity. Finally, of the principal cast, Ruffy plays Alfieri who is both lawyer and narrator. He adds style - at one point in top and tails - and a lovely singing voice as he croons Paper Doll which becomes increasingly manic to reflect the shifting dynamics of certain relationships on the stage below him.

The set itself was quite sparse with a small kitchen table and chairs in the middle; a large backdrop with a circular cut-out that was lit with different colours and used for actors to pose in silhouette; and a feature I didn’t like – Eddie’s chair on the edge of the thrust facing away from the audience. This meant for a section of the viewers, key moments were unseen with Rotondella’s back to them. The lighting was also a little hit and miss – the silhouettes were effective but too many times scenes were lit with actors in partial shadow or dimness.

These are minor quibbles as this is a fine dramatic production with excellent performances that builds to a compelling conclusion. Directed by Lawrie Cullen-Tait, A View From The Bridge is on at The Roundhouse Theatre until 5 May.

All My Sons - WAAPA (2 May 2015)

Twenty one men.

Dead.

Their fighter planes fallen from the skies during World War Two. Not shot down. Sabotaged. From their own side. Faulty parts deliberately shipped and installed.

Two men are accused. One is exonerated. One is sent to jail.

So is the context for this slow burn drama that culminates in a devastating third act as the revelations pile up to reveal unpalatable truths and the importance of taking responsibility.

What I loved about the writing here is that Arthur Miller has put characters that are unshakeable in their core beliefs into conflict:

Kate Keller (Brittany Morel) is unswayed in her absolute certainly that her son Larry is still alive even though he never returned from the war.

Her husband Joe Keller (Andrew Creer) is resolute that he did nothing wrong and was fairly exonerated.

Their other son, Chris Keller (Bevan Pfeiffer) believes in his father's innocence; and they both know that Larry can be none other than dead despite Kate's desperation.

Anne Deever (Stephanie Panozzo), the daughter of Steve Deever who still languishes in jail, is convinced of her father’s guilt. 

Her brother George Deever (Hoa Xuande) arrives at the Keller home implacable in his hatred of Joe’s alleged deception that has ruined his father.

To complicate matters, Anne used to be Larry’s girl but now Chris wants to ask for her hand in marriage.

That is a powder keg of conflicting beliefs just waiting to ignite. It does so as the mystery of what happened at the wartime factory is slowly revealed and the ripples tear these two families and their close neighbours asunder.

Brittany Morel is simply superb as Kate. The ferocity of Kate’s conviction that Larry is still alive results in a woman who is barely in control and Morel plays this with great skill. From the right hand she splays against her thigh to conceal its shaking; to the wide-eyed expressions as the emotion brims every time someone even remotely challenges that belief; to the forceful restating of Larry being alive; it is a compelling performance. That this seemingly anguished and deluded woman turns into something far more potent in the third act is remarkable and Morel’s transformation is riveting, at one point even launching herself at Creer who must be twice her size.    

Andrew Creer is indeed an imposing physical presence but his Joe is part magnanimous, part prone to flights of anger and ultimately the façade crumbles as the revelations pile up. It is fascinating to watch the reverse arc – a man seemingly so strong disintegrates while his wife mired in self-denial becomes the rock of the family. Creer handles that trajectory well.

Bevan Pfeiffer’s Chris is also a complex character, almost sweet and naïve in his courting of Anne but quick to anger when events conspire to keep them apart. Pfeiffer ratchets up the outrage as the play builds to its tragic conclusion and his confrontations with Joe are heartrending. His monologue about his duty during the war and his reaction on returning home was a highlight.

Stephanie Panozzo’s Anne plays a pivotal part as the ultimate bearer of the truth but before that dagger I was never quite sure of the character’s motivations. This was intriguing as again it is a complex character and Panozzo gives ‘Annie’ a real strength, determined never to be left alone again no matter what the cost.

Hoa Xuande is the impending threat as George and his arrival illuminates the story from a very different perspective to that of Joe’s. His acquiescence in the face of Joe’s denial felt a little convenient though it was dressed in the importance of the neighbourhood and community which is a featured component of the story. His reversion to malevolence towards the Keller’s is nicely done with Morel’s Kate unintentionally providing the critical link. From then on the play races towards a frantic conclusion that played on high emotion that was affecting and visceral.

Benjamin Kindon, Elle Harris, Dacre Montgomery, and Harriet Gordon-Anderson play neighbours who are entwined in the Keller’s misfortunes and all have important moments. Kindon’s Jim Bayliss delivers a strong monologue in the second half as he sits with Kate; Gordon-Anderson, a beautiful piece of understated acting as she greets George and the subtext of missed opportunities and what might have been shines through; while Harris is perfectly catty as the neighbour who needles Anne about Joe. Montgomery comes across as perhaps the only decent man while also doubling as Bert, a child from the neighbourhood.

The intimacy of The Roundhouse Theatre was perfect for the high emotion on display and I felt right there in the backyard of the family home with its greenery and fallen tree. There were a couple of times though that actors had their back to the audience seated at the top of the thrust in key moments – Xuande’s George suffered most from this and I never saw his response in that beat with Gordon-Anderson; while Creer’s line that succinctly explains the true meaning of the play’s title was also delivered facing away from a third of the audience.

I loved the use of lighting that slowly dimmed then darkened as key memories from the past were revealed or to engender a sense of foreboding. Smoke was used increasingly in the second half as if to mirror the growing obscurity of events swirling around the Keller's. I wasn’t as fond though of the rock music that was played in the transition from second to third act as it momentarily jarred me out of the time period that had been so effectively built.   

This is a carefully and expertly constructed play that really packs a wallop. I admit I was quite moved by the breadth of the Greek-like tragedy that unfolds. It is very well acted with Morel’s performance in particular a highlight.

Written by Arthur Miller, Directed by Tom Healey and starring Andrew Creer, Brittany Morel, Bevan Pfeiffer, Stephanie Panozzo, Hoa Xuande, Benjamin Kindon, Elle Harris, Dacre Montgomery and Harriet Gordon-Anderson, All My Sons runs until Thursday 7 May at The Roundhouse Theatre on the ECU campus in Mount Lawley.    

Broken Glass - GRADS (5 June 2014)

1938 and the infamous Kristallnacht takes the harassment of Jews in Nazi Germany to new levels as a precursor of the horror to come. In Brooklyn, a Jewish woman - Sylvia Gellburg (Maree Grayden) - obsessed by the newspaper reports of the persecution suddenly finds herself unable to walk. Baffled by this, her husband Phillip (Geoff Miethe) engages the services of Doctor Hyman (Neil Cartmell) who becomes personally invested in finding the cause.

The great Arthur Miller, Nazis, American Jews and what was billed as a mystery has me intrigued. What I quickly come to realise is that this play is essentially two things: a kitchen sink, husband-wife melodrama; and an exploration of what it means to be Jewish. I have no personal context for the latter which infuses the play especially in the second act and therefore I felt emotionally distant from its characters and message. The ‘mystery’ of the marital breakdown is related to this over-arching theme and allusions to events in Germany are none too subtle thematic buttresses.

However, I was interested in how the play was constructed, predominantly as a series of two-handers with only two, maybe three moments I recall with more than two people in a scene - Husband and Doctor, Doctor and Wife, Husband and Wife, Doctor’s Wife and Husband, Wife and Sister and so on. This means it’s quite a static play and very dialogue heavy.

The set is beautifully appointed – stage left is the doctor’s office; centre stage is the Gellburg’s bedroom; stage right is the office of Stanton Case (Phillip Mackenzie) who Phillip works for. Cellist Sophie Parkinson-Stewart is situated back of stage behind a transparent screen and adds texture and tone with music composed by Grant Olding.

Cartmell is good as Doctor Hyman but in many ways his character is essentially a device – his occupation allows him to constantly ask questions of both husband and wife to probe and reveal the true state of the Gellburg marriage. In this respect many of the questions are oddly personal. There is an attraction manufactured between his character and Sylvia that allows him to (almost) get away with this. Grayden gives a strong performance as the neglected wife though the latter stages do verge into heavy melodrama as confessions are made and declarations intoned.

Georgia Jones as Mrs. Hyman adds much needed sassiness and Sally Barendse has a couple of lovely moments as Sylvia’s sister, Harriet. These two characters add life to what otherwise is pretty earnest material. Mackenzie has three scenes as the wealthy businessman who gets cheated out of a property deal due to Phillip’s misunderstanding of events. Miethe, however, did not have the best of nights as the main character, struggling with his dialogue throughout. Hopefully this is only opening night nerves as it affected key scenes, his characterisation, and created a few awkward moments.

I found the play difficult to embrace as it has a very specific message in mind which I can intellectually understand but have no emotional connection to. It is, however, an Arthur Miller play so there are some nicely written exchanges and the cello music does add another layer.

Directed by Barry Park, Broken Glass is on at the Stirling Theatre in Innaloo until 14 June.