West Side Story - WAAPA (19 June 2014)

There are times when you can sense something special is about to happen; a certain electricity in the air, a tingling sensation, a premonition almost. This elusive feeling is even more powerful when it’s a shared experience. Like sitting in a theatre as it slowly fills; watching performers warm up on stage; hearing the orchestra go through their own pre-show preparation; seeing the smoke drenched set and lighting arrays;  listening to the excited chatter of the audience; taking in the smiles of enthusiastic ushers as they help people to their seats.

Suddenly there is the polite announcement about photography and electronic devices. Then absolute quiet. For all of about a second. A shared hush of expectation that is as exquisite as it is fleeting… before the musical director’s baton descends and a lone performer walks on stage and we’re away.

It’s not a feeling I get often but the buzz around WAAPA’s mid-year showcase production at the Regal Theatre has been enormous and I was hoping, expecting, pleading for magic and that’s exactly what was delivered – magic of the most potent kind. If you had told me that baton was a wand I would have believed you.

This is a huge and wildly ambitious production by WAAPA and they’ve thrown everything at it – from a cast of 40 drawn from the second and third year musical theatre students to a 26 piece orchestra, again populated by WAAPA Music students, to the skills of their Production and Design students – the quality and attention to detail in every department is evident. This is nominally a student production but it looks and sounds like a professional, big budget musical. This is a triumph for all involved. 

The set is ingenious with four ‘towers’ (comprising scaffolding, platforms and stairs) that move, often during scenes, but fit together in different combinations to form various locations and are the centrepiece for many memorable moments such as the Balcony Scene. The intricacies of the staging seemed effortless but would have taken many, many hours to get so seamless especially with the number of performers involved.  

The lighting is wonderful and I’m told those towers were actually made of wood but lit to look like metal. It certainly had me fooled. The costuming is colourful and distinctive, clearly delineating the Jets and the Sharks as does the impressive work on the diverse accents, notably for the Latino Sharks. The orchestra was in ripping form and musical director David King definitely had a talented group at his disposal. Choreography by Lisa O’Dea was vibrant and energetic - the cast tear into set pieces like America and Gee, Officer Krupke with real verve. Director Crispin Taylor has attacked this with imagination and flair and the results show in all these elements.

Then there is the cast.   

WAAPA is rightfully proud of its status as one of the top performance academies in the world. When you see that talent arrayed on stage in such a challenging and acclaimed musical you come to understand how very true and earned that status is. They were superb. From the leads on down to the ensemble, from their vocal ability to the slick dancing, you sit back and marvel at the sheer talent on display. The greatness of West Side Story is it presents many different facets for them to explore – at its heart it’s a very dark piece but also sexy, vibrant and fun. There is a joy and exuberance here that is eminently watchable and, of course, there are many wonderful songs that are simply classics such as Maria, Somewhere, America, and Tonight.

William Groucutt nails one of those (Maria) and was a very likeable Tony. Miranda Macpherson shines as Maria and her chemistry with Groucutt is good especially in the more playful moments. Suzie Melloy gives a star making performance as the feisty Anita – she is simply superb and a real charismatic presence. Patrick Whitbread’s Riff and Lyndon Watts’ Bernardo are both suitably strong as the leaders of the respective gangs and the physicality of the male roles was impressive. Jacob Dibb plays the key role of Chino (especially in the darker second act) while Daniel Berini and Nick Eynaud add light comic relief as Detective Schrank and Officer Krupke. Shannen Alyce takes lead vocal on Somewhere to great effect which is a highlight as the amassed cast join in. 

The third years will graduate soon and on the evidence of this and Hair earlier in the year we’ll be hearing a lot more from most if not all of them. The second years gave an exciting glimpse into 2015.

This truly was a spectacular production and WAAPA’s presence on the Perth theatre landscape is an ongoing joy. West Side Story, directed by Crispin Taylor, Musical Director David King and Choreography by Lisa O'Dea, has only three more performances, 20-21 June. If you can get a ticket this is a not-to-be-missed show. 

Frames - Class Act Theatre (28 May 2014)

Dysfunction. Denial. Disintegration.

Pardon the alliteration but those were the three words that came to mind after watching Frames at the Subiaco Arts Centre tonight.

How we can all be dysfunctional in our own ways, small or large. How a family unit can be dysfunctional as a result... or perhaps is the catalyst for our imperfections; comments made in jest or repeated observations no matter how seemingly innocuous affecting self-esteem and behaviour.

Then there is the denial of our true state of mind or physical appearance or both. How we lie to ourselves to justify our choices no matter how extreme. Not to mention the denial of the actions of others and their impact, especially those closest to us.

How these things can lead to the disintegration of a person, a family, and in a wider sense, a community.

Then there is the disintegration of a body as it falls below a certain weight and starts to shut down.

Yes, Frames has some very serious topics in mind but doesn't present them in a didactic way at all.

It follows Lizzie (Maja Liwszyc), the anorexic daughter of frazzled Barbara (Angelique Malcolm) whose svelte modelling days are long over and Ken (Maitland Schnaars) who enjoys a social drink with his (unseen) mates a little too much. Unlike her sister, Jackie (Keren Schlink) isn’t likely to leave an uneaten meal at dinner time. Then there’s Ben (Nick Pages-Oliver), Lizzie’s boyfriend who likes to get high and whose mother is having an affair with Ken.

The first act sets up all of these people’s manifest flaws and how they create friction within the family unit. It ends with Barbara’s horror at the belated discovery of how thin her daughter has become. The second act ramps up the drama as Lizzie is rushed to hospital only to run away when her pleas that she will eat everything “including the plate” if only she’s allowed to go home fall on deaf ears. The family disintegrates as she reveals her father’s infidelities and a surprise tragedy comes from left field to add to the gloom. But the play ends on somewhat positive note as we fast forward to a time when Barbara and her daughters are attempting to order a meal at a fancy café with the suggestion Lizzie is on her way to some sort of recovery.

Liwszyc is excellent as Lizzie  - playing her as an exuberant 10 year old; a sullen and secretive teenager; and even a little known saint who lived on naught but air. It is a very physical performance as Lizzie jogs, does sit-ups, and clambers all over the dining room table, ever conscious of her calorie intake and the need for exercise. The most telling scene is when she pleads with her mother to be released from hospital, unable to fool the doctor well versed in her type of deflections and schemes. It is intense and raw.

Malcolm gives Barbara a sense of whimsy for glories long past and moments of ‘mum humour’ that creates empathy for when she faces the twin blows of her husband’s betrayal and her daughter’s plight. The family interactions in all their arguments and 'parent versus teenager' stand-offs felt credible and real. Schlink adds pointed commentary in a charmingly naff manner, her character seemingly unaware of the drama swirling around her. Schnaars is given little more than 'the remote father' who embraces alcohol and another woman more than his family. He has a moment of true anger at Lizzie and later a stab at reconciling with her as they watch football together in a flash forward to when he has left Barbara for Ben’s mum. Pages-Oliver is all goofy charm as Ben and impressed in his brief turn as the doctor though his circling of the family (mirroring Lizzie’s kinetic energy) was a curious choice perhaps designed to distract from the exposition dump.

The space in the studio theatre was well used with the family table and chairs creatively doubling for different settings. There were a variety of frames scattered around the set that the actors would stand in or peer through when not being featured in a scene. This gave me a sense of the main players being watched – judged maybe – though image is clearly a main theme and how it can be perceived or distorted through the frameworks we apply.

This is confronting material, well handled in an intelligent manner with a compelling central performance. I may not be the target audience but I found Frames thought provoking and engaging theatre. Written by Louise Helfgott and Directed by Helen Doig, Frames is on at the Subiaco Arts Centre until Saturday 31 May before moving to the Mandurah Performing Arts Centre, 4-7 June.  

Annie - Koorliny Arts Centre (17 May 2014)

Musical theatre is such an educational medium. For example, I was unaware that it was a redheaded orphan who was the inspiration for Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s response to the Great Depression – the New Deal - in the 1930’s! Of course, Annie is one of those quintessential stories, like Forrest Gump, that celebrates that most idealistic of cultural phenomena, the American Dream.

Here, an eleven year old girl searching for her parents is saved from a bleak existence in an orphanage by a billionaire and gets to meet the President of the United States before eventually being adopted by said billionaire after learning her parents are dead. At Christmas time no less to add another layer to the fairy tale. I’m not sure such a story could be set anywhere else but America.

Putting aside the cultural peculiarities, Annie is full of great songs and optimism, best symbolised by the song ‘Tomorrow’, a rendition of which prompts Roosevelt’s unlikely epiphany.  

None of this works without a young performer who can pull off the eponymous role. In Christie McGarrity director Katherine Freind has certainly found her Annie. She gives an assured performance that belies her age with a strong voice that handles Annie’s showcase numbers, including the iconic Tomorrow, with aplomb.

Annie’s nemesis is Mrs. Hannigan (Val Henry) who runs the orphanage and has a strong dislike for the feisty girl. Henry treads the fine line between what passes for a villain in this tale and comic relief nicely. The orphanage is populated by a whole raft of girls and their interactions are a true delight.

Into this world steps Grace (Kimberley Harris) representing the billionaire Oliver Warbucks (Chris Gerrish) who is looking to host an orphan for two weeks leading up to Christmas. She insists on picking Annie much to Mrs. Hannigan’s annoyance and Warbucks’ surprise as he was expecting a boy. Harris has the standout singing voice and plays the dutiful assistant well. Gerrish is great as ‘Daddy’ Warbucks and has good chemistry with McGarrity. Warbucks sets out to find Annie’s parents and enlists Elliot Ness and the FBI along with a little help from the President (Andrew Hislop) who is charmed by Annie.  

When Warbucks offers $50,000 for Annie’s parents to come forward his staff is inundated with claimants including Hannigan’s con artist brother Rooster (Joshua Munroe) and his needy girlfriend Lily (Georgia McGivern) who want to be on “easy street”. Things look bleak but their plot is foiled and everyone celebrates Christmas with a song and a smile.

This is a big production with a large cast and a very impressive set. The opening scenes in the orphanage and on the streets of New York are set in the front half of the stage with stage curtains as a backdrop. When those curtains are opened they reveal a wonderfully appointed, multi-level set representing Warbucks’ mansion. The lighting is very good as are the costumes. In fact this is perhaps the most impressive looking production I have seen at Koorliny.

The penultimate show, today’s matinee, drew quite a crowd and it was fantastic to see so many children in the audience. It would be remiss of me not to mention crowd favourite Sandy, a character of the four legged variety played by ‘Dijaan Rhodes’ but the biggest applause of the afternoon was reserved for Christie McGarrity who is set for quite the future on this outing.

Directed by Katherine Freind, Musical Direction by Justin Freind and Choreography by Sue Cunnell with a cast of 57 (and 1 dog) listed in the programme, Annie was an enjoyable afternoon’s entertainment that was well received by the audience. 

Festen - WAAPA (7 May 2014)

Silence.

A powerful weapon in any play’s arsenal.

Two moments stand out from WAAPA’s production of Festen.

The second one first:

The play ends. The lights dim.

SILENCE.

One beat, two beats, three…

The audience is stunned at what they’ve just witnessed.

Slowly the applause comes. Eventually everyone is clapping as the third year acting students take their bows.

The only thought in my mind is “wow”.

As I leave The Roundhouse Theatre and walk down the long corridor, speechless, two young women behind me are talking. One says, “I almost didn’t want to clap.” Not because the play is bad (there is absolutely no danger of that) but because we have seen a majestic, terrible horror played out before our very eyes.

And it is riveting.

We’ll come to the second moment of silence within the play later but safe to say this is not for the faint-hearted. It is shocking, confronting, in your face theatre that is made all the more powerful by the intimate nature of The Roundhouse Theatre. A front row seat has me immersed in the action, especially moments of violence that are ugly and brutal and take place right in front of me.

The story itself sees a family gathering to celebrate the patriarch’s 60^th birthday.  A son delivers one of two speeches after he asks his father to choose between a green and yellow envelope. Green is picked, the truth speech. The son then proceeds to detail how he and his twin sister (who has taken her own life) were raped by their father as children. The ripple effects through the family, guests and staff are explored in all their tragedy and ghastly pain. There is disbelief; counter accusations as the father harangues his son in one memorable encounter; a mother imploring her child to apologise; a brother’s anger flowering into violence; sympathy from unlikely quarters; and a voice beyond the grave in the form of the suicide letter from the twin sister that leaves no doubt.

It’s after the reading of this letter (from another sister) that the second moment of silence arises. Everyone is speechless. The father tries to shrug it off by proposing a toast to his dead daughter but no-one will move, no one will say anything. Their stillness is stifling, the silence a punctuation point. It’s wonderful theatre.

The performances are superb and all the more laudable because a more reprehensible bunch of characters you will not find – misogynists, racists, rapists – who are either emotionally brittle or utterly callous. They may not be likeable but it is a fascinating exploration of entrenched values within a family and how they infect each generation.

The head of this family, Helge, is wonderfully played by Jonny Hawkins as a man who knows he commands every room and holds sway over every person. The slow crumbling of this self-assurance until he meekly leaves after coming to realise everybody hates him, most notably all his children, is compelling. The scene where he takes Christian to task about the stories he could retort with is gut wrenching. When the traumatised son begs to know why his father did those terrible things, the reply is delivered almost matter-of-factly: “It’s all you were good for.” This had me gasping at the sheer monstrosity of it all.

Christian, played by Henry Hammersla, is the son who starts things in motion with the speech. At first the character seems the only ‘respectable’ one and is played quite dispassionately as the bombshell is dropped. Hammersla ramps up the emotional intensity as the play progresses and is convincing as the aggrieved son who mourns his sister and his own fate. The outburst at his mother over her complicity is a highlight.

Joel Horwood is excellent playing Christian’s brother, Michael, a nasty piece of work who reeks of entitlement and treats his wife Mette (Felicity McKay), the staff and a guest, Poul (Alexander Frank) with utter contempt. Interestingly though, it is the cocksure Michael who ultimately takes the father to task with physical force and forbids him contact with his own daughter.   

Felicity McKay is Michael’s poor, set upon wife, Mette. You feel real sympathy for her character but McKay also is very good at portraying the wife who will protect her own child from the horrors of this family if she can. Even in scenes where she has little dialogue McKay is always attentive to where her daughter is, stroking her hair or hand and comforting her.

That daughter is the Little Girl (Emma Diaz) who represents innocence within this tainted world but also the spirit of the dead twin, Linda who Christian thinks he periodically sees. She flits around the theatre and brings welcome moments of joy and gentle humour.

Christian’s other sister, the eccentric of the family, Helene (Jane Watt), also chases ghosts throughout this mansion though agrees to stay in her sister’s old room. Watt gives an exuberant performance as the emotionally vital Helene and the sadness on her face is writ large when reading Linda’s letter that confirms Helge’s guilt. She is as disgusted as the audience is when the family sings a deeply racist “Sambo man” song in front of her new boyfriend, Gbatokai (Julio Cesar), who her very own brother, Michael, had earlier called a ‘monkey’. What makes this even more offensive is that three generations of family from the Grandfather (Aleks Mikic) on down take such glee in the singing. No wonder the emcee for the night, the persuasive Helmut (Adam Sollis) has such a hard time keeping things in check.  

Holly Dyroff is Helge’s wife, Else, and her highlight comes when she asks Christian to apologise in front of everyone. Little is she prepared for the anguished response that shows her complicity, a revelation that resonates strongly as real world stories unfortunately abound. It’s a telling moment when Else later refuses to leave with Helge at the end of the play, siding with her children.

The cast is rounded out by Harry Richardson, Alex Malone and Stephanie Tsindos who all play staff at the mansion and have knowledge of the events that swirl around Christian and his family.

I found Festen utterly enthralling even though it had me squirming in my seat more than once. But that response is a genuine reaction to how well the actors handle the deliberately provocative material. The set is quite fabulous with large double doors at the back of the stage that open onto a hallway at the rear of the set with economical use of props and lighting creating the dining room or various other rooms on the main checkered space. There is a great mural on either side of those doors depicting hounds fighting amongst themselves, an apt symbol. The director Andrea Moor makes full use of The Roundhouse Theatre as characters chase each other through the upper level and also mingle with the audience at one point because, after all, isn’t this meant to be a celebration?

This is stunning theatre well worth checking out if you can on its final night, Thursday 8^th May.

Uncle Jack - The Blue Room Theatre (6 May 2014)

A young lad is sent by his father to a property in the bush to toughen him up one summer. Here he meets 'Uncle Jack' who is a World War 2 veteran still traumatised by the events of that terrible conflict.

When I was young, 8 or 9 I think it was, my paternal grandfather died. I don’t remember much about him other than he was a stern man and that I was most likely scared of him. What I do remember is that after he passed away the extended family descended on that house looking for booty, a sad indictment to be sure. Three discoveries that fascinated me, however, were: an anti-tank shell, the explosive hollowed out; his war medals; and a collection of newspapers from around the time of WWII stashed away in the long, dark (and I’m sure, haunted) porch that ran down one side of the house. I claimed the anti-tank shell as a prize though I didn’t really understand its significance at the time. We were a long way away from graphic depictions of war on both the large and small screens. But it was a tangible reminder of what my grandfather must have experienced.

I mention this as it was a strong recollection after watching Uncle Jack. Memories I hadn’t thought of in decades. That is the power of this play. Interestingly though, I was talking to a young man at the bar afterwards, himself a storyteller, who liked the play but felt it kept him at a distance as the situation depicted was not one of his experience. In this it may be a quirk of generational differences and I wonder what the girl’s high school group there on the night may have thought as well. For older generations it will no doubt have great resonance and meaning.

The play itself is more a character piece than a true narrative story. Uncle Jack (Quintin George) hits the booze as hard as he works the property and we see the source of his trauma in flashbacks to events in northern Africa, El Alamein and Tobruk prominent amongst them. He is a true Aussie cockie with a sly sense of humour who mentors young Douglas McNab (Ben Hall), the city slicker with the ‘sheila hands’. McNab has concerns of his own as his father (who Jack fought alongside) is disappointed in the boy. The expectations of the father weigh heavily.

As Jack teaches Doug the ways of the land and how to work it they slowly form a strong bond. Jack teases Doug about the ‘comely’ girlfriend who writes to him but it’s clear he misses his wife and own boys who remain in Busselton, another source of his alcohol fuelled pain.

George and Hall play off each other very well which is what makes this all work as basically it relies on the authenticity of their interactions in the absence of any traditional plot mechanics. George gives a very physical performance as the troubled mentor who knows his way about the bush but has constant demons lurking. He captures the larrikin spirit and ‘ocker’ in Jack but doesn’t shy away from showing his terror and vulnerability as well. Hall has the dual roles of the naïve kid who needs to grow up and the father (as soldier) in the flashback scenes. He also narrates the authentic wartime diary entries that allow insight into the northern Africa campaign. This gives Hall the opportunity to play stern and strong when needed; wide-eyed and, in many ways, sweet and exuberant, when dealing with Jack. The pairing works well.

The action takes place mostly on a dirt-filled, circular platform that revolves when the actors put their back into it, again emphasising the physical nature of the bush. The sound design is excellent in recreating the battles in the flashback scenes. There’s even a piano that adds texture to key emotional moments with Hall in particular showing off a fine singing voice, no surprise as both actors are graduates of WAAPA’s musical theatre program. 

Written by Ross Lonnie featuring extracts from Lieutenant Colonel William (Bill) Lonnie's real wartime journal. Directed by Soseh Yekanians, Uncle Jack is on at The Blue Room until 10 May.

Twelve Angry Men - Melville Theatre Company (3 May 2014)

New York. 1957. August.

A jury room.

It’s hot. There’s no airconditioning.

Things are about to get a lot hotter as twelve strangers file in.

The fate of a 16 year old boy is on the line. Accused of stabbing his father to death. A guilty verdict means the death penalty.

It’s an open and shut case…

Except for one dissenter.

So begins the classic play Twelve Angry Men brought to life by the Melville Theatre Company.

It’s refreshing in an age of multiple CSI and other crime procedurals where murders ever more heinous are graphically detailed and dissected, to revisit a simple, well written character study such as this.

It’s classic drama. Take twelve people with different backgrounds and viewpoints, put them in a claustrophobic environment where they are forced to make a unanimous decision then watch the fireworks as prejudices and assumptions bubble to the surface. The stakes? Nothing less than a kid’s life.

Emotion versus logic. Facts versus assumptions. Arguments about what exactly is ‘reasonable doubt’. The play is carefully constructed to call the ‘obvious’ guilty verdict into question and ultimately to completely overturn this. All because one man wanted to know more, to talk a while because taking another person’s life no matter what their background, no matter what they might have done deserves thought and consideration.

That man is Juror 8 played by Gino Cataldo who slowly sways his fellow jurors calmly using reason in the face of emotion, bigotry, and apathy.

His main rival is Juror 3, played by Phil Barnett, who is hot-headed, temperamental and doesn’t want to waste any more time than he has to in this stifling room.

The play has a lovely symmetry in that it’s Juror 3 who ends up the sole dissenting voice before caving in whereas Juror 8 started isolated and belittled.

The set is simple – the juror’s table and chairs with a broken fan, a water cooler, and one window opened for blessed relief from the heat. Everyone is in suits, coats quickly shed as the temperature rises.

Allegiances and the voting tally changes as accusations fly and home truths are revealed. The request for various votes throughout the play details the shifting ground and gives the opportunity for dismay and disgust as people are called to account for changing their minds. In this there are, deliberately, more forceful characters than others. But even the meekest gets to have his say. 

The standouts in the cast, for me, were Barnett as Juror 3 who is all coiled anger and resentment as he thunders away at the others as his position is slowly eroded. He is appropriately loud and physical. The source of his character’s rage is nicely revealed at the end as all resistance leeches away in the play’s final moments.

Michael Dorman as Juror 7 is also very strong as Juror 3’s prime ally for much of the play until unexpectedly reversing his vote. Willy Smeets as Juror 11, the immigrant with a heightened sense of justice, adds moments of humour, something that is pretty light on the ground and therefore welcomed. Phil Lord has the big speech revealing his character’s bigotry late in proceedings that literally takes the air out of the room. It’s delivered with a gusto that makes it all the more horrifying. Juror 4, Alan Kennedy, adds a certain gravitas as he is convinced of the boy’s guilt but plays this with his own form of reasoning to counter Juror 8’s and not the bluster of Jurors 3, 7 and 10. His change of heart is telling and well conveyed. Cataldo is solid in the pivotal role of Juror 8 but perhaps too calm and measured. It’s a tricky role as his main antagonists have much showier parts.

Indeed this is a solid production all round, directed by Vanessa Jensen, starring Garry Davies, Cary Hudson, Warren McGrath, Phil Barnett, Alan Kennedy, Brendan Ellis, Will Gawned, Michael Dorman, Gino Cataldo, Tom Rees, Phil Lord, Willy Smeets and Jeff Hansen, and on at the Melville Theatre until 17 May.

Bye. Gone - Second Chance Theatre (25 April 2014)

“You can’t run away from the pain.”

Alaska. A place where the lights are one of the most beautiful things you might ever see. A place where the stars bring more than light and dust. A place the wolves fear. Where memories come to life in the form of “ghostings”. Perhaps the wolves are right to be afraid…

A young man (Nic Doig) is stirred from his slumber in the snow by an old war veteran (Daley King). As they talk both men are visited by visions from their past – the ghostings – that reveal how each man has come to this strange place and why. War has raged for ten years with the promise of twenty more to come. The Old Man has already experienced its horrors, able to recite the number and method of those he has killed. The Young Man is disorientated but seemingly there to meet a friend.

Their memories are played out through The Reflection (Andrew Dawson) who portrays both men – in childhood, young adulthood, through key moments of their past, some good, most clouded by the pall of missing fathers and stern mothers.

The play is a fascinating rumination on guilt, regret, pain and, ultimately, choice. The setting is deliberately surreal – the set covered with white sheets to depict Alaska while clever use of lighting and an excellent soundtrack by Drew Krapljanov usher in the transition to what, in effect, amount to flashbacks as memories are played out before the two men.

Daley King is a strong presence as The Old Man who questions and cajoles The Young Man with authority yet also regret as his secrets are slowly revealed. Nic Doig’s Young Man is more the innocent with the much calmer temperament of the two as he grapples with his current predicament and the examination of his past. Both get to play narrator as memories are re-enacted telling us, particularly in The Old Man’s case, what are lies and what is the truth.

Andrew Dawson not only plays both men in the various memory scenes but over different timeframes – a young child hurt in a fall; playing robots with a childhood friend; moments of first love as a teenager; a café patron on the hunt for rhubarb pie; promising the now older friend that he will enlist and join the war. He does an excellent job in playing an array of emotions in these diverse scenarios.

The key memories, however, revolve around the fractious relationship the men have with their mothers, both women played by Emily David. Motherly concern is paramount but expresses itself in predominantly negative fashion with the slaps David delivers to Dawson (as the Young Man) flinchingly real.

The cast is rounded out by Launce Ronzan as The Friend who goes from wanting to be a robot with a chainsaw for a hand to enlisting to fight in the war and calling The Young Man a coward for having doubts about doing likewise; Shannon Rogers is The Lover who is despised by The Young Man’s mother; Chelsea Kunkler as The Stranger who visits the café every Monday and Friday that The Old Man used to frequent; and Rhianna Hall as The Owner who injects some playful humour as she talks to The Old Man in those past memories.

The whole thing is played out to a thought provoking conclusion that had the audience chatting away as the lights came back up. Indeed it is a thoughtfully written and constructed play with the “flashback structure” allowing great insight into the two main characters. Written and directed by Scott McArdle I enjoyed this examination of the past and how it informs our choices despite of, or indeed perhaps because of, the mistakes we make and the guilt we feel because of them.

Pyramus and Thisbe - The Mechanicals (5 April 2014)

What a joy to discover that a travelling troupe of actors had descended on the Marloo Theatre in Greenmount to perform the tragedy Pyramus and Thisbe. And what a performance it was! I laughed, I cried, I oohed and aahed, I marvelled at the talent on display. Nick Bottom gives a compelling performance as Pyramus, a simple weaver who longs to be with Francis Flute’s comely Thisbe. Bottom commands the stage with a startlingly naturalistic performance – from whispered exhortations to his beloved to saliva driven tears of grief - he is truly magnificent. It’s difficult to believe Flute is in fact a man such is the skill with which he inhabits the passionate Thisbe.

Between them is a Wall stoutly played by Tom Snout whose ‘chink’ proves more than a mouthful as the lovers communicate with cum hither intensity. What would a doomed romance be without moonlight, capably supplied by Robin Starveling? Starveling adroitly wields a candle whilst walking an uncredited toy dog. The villain of the piece is the oddly named Snug who plays a Lion armed with a fearsome roar. The troupe is rounded out by Peter Quince who delivers a prologue designed to comfort the audience such is the emotional intensity of piece.

The lovers agree to meet after some expertly executed wall talk but Thisbe is beset by the Lion and flees leaving a bloodied scarf at the scene. Pyramus arrives to discover said garment and, fearing the worse, takes his own life such is his devastation. In a heartbreaking moment, Thisbe returns to find Pyramus dead. She (eventually) prises the sword from her lover’s cold, lifeless hands and turns it on herself, the lovers reunited in morbid death.

I was on the edge of my seat. The deaths were vivid, the tragedy shocking. The physicality of the action was so authentic the audience winced at every blow, every thud, every sword thrust. The urgent messaging between Bottom and Flute through Wall’s chink was truly holesome glory. The only downside for me was the heckling of this magnificent group of actors by a bunch of royal prats on the fringe of the stage who clearly did not appreciate the skill and subtlety on display. In a word this was outstanding. No wonder Shakespeare ripped it off for his Romeo and Juliet.

Strangely though, there was also a prequel of sorts about how the troupe came to perform this short masterpiece. Something called A Midsummer Night’s Dream or some such nonsense…

The Hound of the Baskervilles - ARENAarts (30 March 2014)

Ever popular, Sherlock Holmes seems to be everywhere lately – Guy Ritchie’s big screen adaptations, competing small screen versions on both sides of the Atlantic, and now he’s treading the boards in Belmont, played by actress Amanda Watson no less. Yes, The Hound of the Baskervilles has come to community theatre via ARENAarts and a “very silly adaptation”.

That may actually be an understatement. The script throws pretty much everything at the story of Henry Baskerville travelling to the moors of Dartmoor from Canada as the only living heir to the family fortune after the death of Sir Charles Baskerville under mysterious circumstances. There is physical comedy, skits, pranks, high farce, and constant asides to the audience; the actors breaking character to comment on events, deliberately missed cues, a marauding stage manager, groan inducing jokes, running gags, sight gags, and inspired mischief with props and sound. The comedy is of that particular English vein of pantomime meets Benny Hill meets Monty Python.

Does it all work? For me, no - the humour is very hit and miss at times but the writers of the adaptation, Steve Canny and John Nicholson, know this and pepper their version with self-aware commentary about the more suspect gags, the acting, the script, the crew and staging. So much is thrown at the wall, however, that plenty of it sticks and I was laughing throughout.

The story stays true to the spine of Arthur Conan Doyle’s classic with suitable exaggeration for comedic effect. I will admit it was all a little too scattergun for me during the first act but the second act starts with a bang and by the end I was sold on all the silliness.

This is in no small part to the work of the three actors - Amanda Watson, Bree Vreedenburg, and Rachael Maher - who were all excellent in a physically demanding production. Playing multiple characters with rapid scene and costume transitions with an array of sound cues meant that they were certainly kept on their toes.

Watson is very good as Holmes (I love the irony!), to such an extent that I missed this onstage persona in the second half of the first act as the story focusses on Doctor Watson and Henry Baskerville’s journey to Dartmoor. Here she plays an array of characters – Stapleton, Cecile, Barrymore and his wife, a weird yokel (with a very funny Godfather sight gag) and a hermit. Not to say she’s not good at these (she is) but I loved the confidence and drollness Watson exudes as Holmes.

Bree Vreedenburg in many ways grounds the whole production as she is allowed to play Watson throughout with only one other character change (another yokel). There is an earnestness and naivety here that is endearing amongst all the lunacy. Vreedenburg’s Watson also acts as de facto narrator and the butt of many of Holmes’ jibes (face palm).

Rachael Maher also has multiple characters – initially Sir Charles Baskerville, Doctor Mortimer, the cabbie and another yokel but it is in the main role of Sir Henry Baskerville that she really shines. Maher has a gift for physical comedy and was a delight as the sometimes preening, sometimes lovelorn, sometimes pant-less Henry.

They are given great support by Jane Sherwood as the Faceless Stage Manager who not only moves props around but audibly corrects the pronunciation of names and has her own moment of craziness as she provides the sound effects and movements that accompany the reprise of the first act.

This is where it all clicked into place for me – the second act starts with Amanda Watson (as Watson not Holmes… stay with me here) haranguing the audience and then demanding the first act be restaged to prove a point. This compressed retelling is hilarious and really propels the story to its climax as the dastardly fiend is uncovered and the hound slain.

The set is ingeniously designed to allow for swift scene transitions with a simple backdrop for the moor and a back wall that had panels that could be moved to represent Baker Street or Baskerville Manor. There was even a subtle sight gag when the moor backdrop was only partially raised - revealing two thirds of Baskerville Manor - where the two actors crouched to the adjusted level.

The sound effects were playful, being out of synch a lot of times with the actions on stage. The music was full of appropriately silly pop culture references from Stars Wars to Raiders of the Lost Ark to The Godfather.

But the stars here are Watson, Vreedenburg and Maher who give full tilt performances and embrace the overriding absurdity of it all with great energy and charm.

The Hound of the Baskervilles is directed by Simon James and is on at the Latvian Club in Belmont with shows Thursday through Saturday, 3-5 April at 8pm.

The Standover Man - Subiaco Arts Centre (26 March 2014)

I attended opening night of The Standover Man which is on at the Subiaco Arts Centre as part of the Independent Theatre Festival and runs until Saturday.

I couldn't have been more impressed. This is a beautifully written, performed and staged play. I am going to be a little oblique about the story because the writing is excellent and the play unfolds with great skill to reveal its secrets and mysteries. That journey really needs to be experienced first hand.

Suffice to say, it is a set of stories that collide in various ways:

A standover man (Mario Piccoli) who hears the voice of Joan of Arc, takes in an angry teenager (Esther Longhurst) who wants to fight the world.

An accountant (Nick Maclaine) who is also a hitman for the mob, starts a relationship with a divorcee (Laura Hopwood) after they have a minor car accident.

Then there are the two tales narrated by Joan of Arc herself (Laura Hopwood). Theo Messenger gives added support in various roles.

I admit, at first, I was a little unsettled and confused about the narrated tales but their purpose and significance slowly become crystal clear to devastating effect. The introduction to each character and their predicament is handled with a "knock" (the standover man coming to collect money from the teenager), a "bang" (the accountant and divorcee exchanging details after a minor bingle), and a "smile" (the accountant capably dispatches a nightclub owner for his "boss"). Swirling around this are the machinations of the underworld as a merger is threatened by the rash actions of the teenager. It all barrels towards a surprising climax and a subtle yet telling punctuation point of a reprise that hints that this tale will forever be ongoing.

The performances are very good. Esther Longhurst is outstanding as the teenager who has a point to prove and will take on anyone to do so. Nick Maclaine turns on the charm as he woos the divorcee but is nothing less than businesslike carrying out his underworld duties. Mario Piccoli's eponymous character is an interesting mix of menace with a softer side (the fastidious care of his precious rose bush) with a dash of "crazy" as he responds to the Joan of Arc in his head. Laura Hopwood shines as the uncertain single mother and the imploring French historical figure.

The latter character is an unusual but inspired choice as a real curve ball that adds another dimension to the type of seedy criminal setting we've seen before. There is also a healthy dash of black humour.

The staging is inventive with interesting use of lighting - hand held torches give mood and atmosphere as characters are cast in shadow or highlighted accordingly. Lots of darkness and stillness as well. The stage itself is economical with the bed doubling as a car (again with the use of simple lighting props), a kitchen table, a picketed back section and a side wall with door. The transitions between scenes are seamless.

This really is impressive - a tight script, wonderful performances, all immaculately staged. With only three more performances remaining I highly recommend The Standover Man.

The Townspeople and the Plague - Murdoch Theatre Company (23 March 2014)

I arrived early at Murdoch University for the 12pm matinee because, having never been to the Drama Workshop before, I wanted to make sure I had time to find it on campus. Turns out this was pretty easy. However, this meant I was the first one there and was let in by the play’s director, Kate Willoughby. I had a good chat with Kate and members of front of house as they arrived – about the background of the Murdoch Theatre Company, the selection of the play, their theatre interests and ambitions, even a discussion about the WAAPA productions I’d seen during the week. It was a relaxing and interesting preface to the performance.

There were notes about the play from Kate and the writer, Anthony KJ Smith on a pin board along with a cast list (should have paid more attention Richard) and some photos. I hastily read the playwright’s notes where he himself admits this is a “wanky piece of theatre".

Okay, he’s not going to get an argument from me on that score. This has been deliberately written to be obtuse and to play with and subvert audience expectations. Overlapping dialogue, self-referential ‘stage directions’, asides about storytelling devices, nonsensical monologues, an inexplicable vaudeville number, a slither of plot, plenty of slapstick and even a minute’s silence for no apparent reason. Yet it all kind of works because the actors commendably commit to the material and largely play it straight. If this had too much “nudge, nudge, wink, wink” the show would have collapsed under the pretensions of the script.

Indeed, there is more than a healthy dose of Monty Python here – with the dramatic entrance of ‘The Fucking Plot’ (also known as Imogen) we get a monologue introducing a tale that could be straight out of a Python-esque universe. Edgar the Fourth, however, turns out not to be the protagonist of this tale. That falls to Proxy-shit who fights the good fight for someone or another against something or another with fabulous success and/or failure… I can’t recall. But that’s of little interest to the writer who also plays with faux philosophical discourse and musings. I mean, one of the characters is even a Viking, played with scene stealing intensity by Rhianna Hall. Oh, there’s even a werewolf… and a dance number… and very large genitals. Yes, it’s that kind of play.

The narrator, Sylvia, dispenses actual stage directions in a suitably droll fashion and we even have a little Avenue Q style hand puppet work going on. A stagehand occasionally features, interacting with the cast and determining the fate of the moon. Yes, it’s all very self-aware and clever but there are genuinely funny moments as well as the ‘what the hell am I witnessing’ excursions.

As a young woman behind me remarked to her friends after it had all finished, “I really liked it… I just don’t know why.” That actually sums up my feelings as well. This is absurdist and perhaps trying far too hard to be clever but it has a committed cast giving good performances with many funny and entertaining moments. Just don’t ask me what it all means. From the gist of the writer’s notes I don’t think he even knows and I suspect that’s the point!

Hair - WAAPA (19 March 2014)

The power of any good performance art is to transport an audience to another time, another place; to immerse that audience in the world of the story and its characters; to shed light and understanding on that world and its inhabitants whether it is a vision of the future, a reflection of the past or even pure fantasy. Hair is neither science fiction nor fantasy but it does represent a specific period of time and place that may be as foreign in many ways to a modern day audience as the most outlandish of tales that grace our screens, small and large.

The hippie culture with its celebration of freedom and love within the context of the Vietnam War and the ever present threat of conscription and overbearing authority is unique and vibrant. Around it swirled the sexual revolution, a formative era of rock and roll where icons were forged, and the celebration of drug culture. It was also a time of war and the questioning of America’s moral authority and indeed of authority figures as a whole.

I write this as a preface because I was not there. Well, barely around when the original production first opened on Broadway in 1968. I was, however, certainly there on Wednesday night. And that is a great tribute to all involved with this excellent production. I was taken to that time and place. I did experience a window into this culture and its inhabitants. I saw the joy, the love, the confusion, the anger, the tragedy. I also witnessed a group of wonderfully talented third year musical theatre students from WAAPA strut their stuff and, oh my, how they strutted and cavorted and danced and sang and entertained.

The cast was uniformly excellent from Daniel Berini’s charismatic Berger to Du Toit Bredenkamp’s conflicted and ultimately tragic Claude; Sophie Stokes was in fine voice as Sheila Franklin with the superb ‘Easy to Be Hard’ and ‘Good Morning Starshine’,while Shannen Chin-Quan gave a lovely rendition of ‘Frank Mills’. Lyndon Watts (Hud) and Stephen Madsen (Woof) were also prominent with Eloise Cassidy a convincing “earth mother” as the pregnant Jeanie. Chloe Wilson threatened to steal the show with her hilarious Margaret Mead a highlight. But there were many of those from wonderful renditions of ‘Aquarius’, ‘Hair’, ‘Where Do I Go?’ and the joyous ‘Let the Sunshine In’ that concludes the show to the drug trip sequence and the tasteful handling of the trademark nudity as the cast strip down in the face of the horrors of war projected behind them.

The main players were more than ably supported by the rest of the cast who had a wonderful sense of energy and chemistry as they genuinely enjoyed the playful choreography and playground style set. Then there was the eight piece band that was in terrific form led by musical director David King.

This really was a superb production that showcased a very strong third year class. Congratulations to director (and choreographer) Tanya Mitford and all the crew and support staff. Kudos especially to the cast comprising: Max Bimbi, Nick Eynaud, Ashleigh Rubenach, Stephen Madsen, Sophie Stokes, Daniel Berini, Chloe Wilson, Suzie Melloy, Du Toit Bredenkamp, Lyndon Watts, Patrick Whitbread, Rebecca Hetherington, William Groucutt, Ben Adams, Jack Van Staveren, Shannen Chin-Quan, Eloise Cassidy, Sophie Cheeseman, Miranda MacPherson and Jessica Voivenel.

In closing, I bumped into a friend who saw the Australian production in 1969 that featured Marcia Hines. He remarked that some 45 years later all the songs came flooding back and that WAAPA had done a wonderful job in recreating the feeling of that time.

Yes, for a couple of hours we were indeed transported to a different time and place…

Beach - WAAPA (18 March 2014)

There is perhaps no more iconic an Australian image than a sun drenched beach at summertime. A place where Australians of all descriptions and backgrounds come to frolic, to play, to escape the unrelenting sun; sometimes to reflect, sometimes to dream of a better future.

Timothy Daly’s sprawling play examines the beach’s place in Australia’s national conscience from the time of the first white settlers until the present day. It is a presented as a series of vignettes - some that intertwine, most that explore an aspect of our heritage. It has a strong multi-cultural flavour and touches on political issues, notably the prejudice against those who come to our shores to share such blessings.

This version has been fortunately edited down from the original’s script of 300 pages and, I believe, 130 characters, to a more manageable running time. With a cast of 20 second year musical theatre students there is still room for some 80 characters. In other words it’s a big undertaking. The set is simple – a rostrum and a sand pit – with three separate entry points for the actors in the Enright Studio.

Talking to the director afterwards, this was the acting debut of many of the students in front of a paying audience. There is some singing – enough to be excited for future musical productions – but this is mainly a mix of comedy, drama, and skits. I’m not sure it entirely worked for me as a coherent play but it did showcase the talent of the second year musical theatre class. Everyone had an opportunity to shine and the production went without a hitch.

The first act ends on the impending doom of the 2004 tsunami which was a strong, emotional climax as multiple story strands came together in that moment. But also highlights the problematic nature of the piece which became more apparent in the much darker second act where I was unsure of the thematic relevance of several scenes. Allegations of rape, the continuation of a (deliberately) uncomfortable story strand that involved a young girl and an older ‘friendly’ man (the conclusion of which was subtly handled), a drug overdose, other revelations and reversals. There was even a moment where the drug victim is confronted by an early settler only to realise she is now a ghost. This was an interesting development but came late and was soon discarded.

Other strands were forgotten like the fate of Harold Holt – the second one that is, playing the part of the famously missing Prime Minister, who himself went missing. What these darker moments did do, however, was give the actors real drama to sink their teeth into and these scenes are well handled. If this is the acting debut of many in the cast then their efforts were all the more impressive.

A narrator is deployed but breaks the fourth wall soon after the buoyant opening sequence to directly welcome the audience to Beach but this seemed late and a technique sporadically and half-heartedly used - not by the performer I hasten to add but in the writing itself.

There is plenty of humour throughout, particularly the discovery of the joy of “picnics” by an otherwise chaste settler; and the fate of a screenwriter on location at the beach for the adaptation of his own novel was of personal amusement - “I am the creator of the piece”, he protests as he is escorted far, far away by security!

At its best Beach is a joyous celebration of a unique aspect of Australian life and is a most promising beginning to the year for this class of students. I very much look forward to seeing their future productions.

Directed by Michael McCall and featuring the WAAPA second year musical students: Alex Thompson, Baylie Carson, Callum Sandercock, Chris Wilcox, Daniel Ridolfi, Harrison Prouse, Heather Manley, Jacob Dibb, Jess Phillippi, Joe Meldrum, Joel Granger, Kate Thomas, Matilda Moran, Matthew Hyde, Megan Kozak, Morgan Palmer, Rosabelle Elliott, Tanele Storm Graham, Taryn Ryan and Tayla Jarrett.

Second Hands – Fringe World (22 February 2014)

This jet black comedy begins as a standard relationship drama about the lives of two couples - one about to celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary; the other a “cougar” and her photographer lover - until, almost casually, the question is asked about the married woman’s "new hands". Yes, this is a world where people can buy the hands of (usually) 16 year olds that have been cropped at the wrist. In fact, people can have multiple hands though more than 5 pairs is rare. The other woman, Patrice, actually works at an establishment that provides this service with a shipment of prize Sri Lankan hands due soon. She is appalled at the cheap hands her friend’s husband has purchased from a rival store. The 5th character in this dark tale is the photographer’s younger lover who desires ‘smaller hands’ and chooses those of an 8 year old from Patrice’s store.

Okay, yes, this is pretty twisted and clearly takes a hug swipe at Western consumerism, the exploitation of the third world, and the hollowness of vulgar status symbols. There is plenty of talk about families from places such as China and India donating their children’s hands so that they may live a better life. The quality of hands and how much they cost is also a point of discussion and conflict.

What I didn’t get though was the context of how this came to be – why it was that hands were coveted. How an industry, and a seemingly legal one at that, had grown up around this. How there seemed to be mass acceptance and that people with their original hands were somehow inferior. It just was. Yet this seemed ripe for exploration especially when there is talk about the ethics of what can only be described as a reprehensible business. Sure, I get that it’s an allegory but it didn’t seem rooted in anything believable that would have made it far more potent.

The thread that did interest me most was Patrice’s reaction to the request for the smaller hands. I had been waiting for opposition, for someone to decry the absurdity and cruelty of it all and here are the inklings of it. There is genuine disgust and later the character is speechless when admonishing the younger lover who points out they are readily available for sale in her very store. The hypocrisy bites hard.

This is taken further when Patrice (played by Georgia King) tells the story about a murder only a few streets away from where she lives with her philandering lover. The conclusion of that tale is truly shocking and her statement that “we’re all sick” really resonates. This is the end of that story strand and the penultimate scene of the play yet it felt more like a beginning.

It’s an uncomfortable tale, deliberately so, and certainly shocked the audience I was with. It makes its point in no uncertain terms but I was left with a sense that there is far more to explore in this dark, twisted world Jeffrey Jay Fowler has created.

Stars Austin Castiglione, Holly Garvey, Georgia King, Renee Newman-Storen and Nick Maclaine.

Young Frankenstein the Musical - Koorliny Arts Centre (25 January 2014)

Lured by the sound of a lone French horn I embarked on a hay ride to Castle Frankenstein located in deepest, darkest Kwinana for a little transference, a lot of mania and some deep love. Yes, Young Frankenstein the Musical was on the loose at the Koorliny Arts Centre and what a rampage it is.

I was greeted by the flickering of lightning, the crack of thunder and a suitably ominous stage. It’s 1933 Transylvania and the villagers are celebrating the death of the infamous Doctor Frankenstein (The Happiest Town). But their happiness is disturbed when it’s announced that a Frankenstein yet lives in New York City of all places. Here we find the good doctor’s grandson Frederick Frankenstein or as he insists, “Fronkensteen”. A scientist, he is fascinated by the brain (The Brain) but ashamed of the family name.

On hearing the news of his grandfather’s death he reluctantly leaves New York and the hands-off charms of his fiancée, Elizabeth (Please Don’t Touch Me) and heads to the family castle where he meets the hunchback Igor (pronounced eye-gore), his lab assistant Inga and the wonderfully strange Frau Blucher (obligatory neigh). Entreated to continue the family business by the ghost of his grandfather (Join the Family Business) young Frederick begins his descent into mad scientist territory and a Monster is duly created with unexpected and hilarious results.

Based on the Mel Brooks’ movie of the same name, it exhibits the typical Brooks sense of humour as it parodies the horror genre. The gags can be a little hit and miss but I generally found this very funny. It is also performed and directed with great verve and there are many wonderful set pieces.

But first, the performances.

Jesse Angus is superb as Frederick Frankenstein, a character that is cocky, arrogant, even smarmy when we first meet him in New York but becomes the brilliant mad scientist as he recreates and then exceeds his grandfather’s greatest triumph. Angus attacks the role with impressive energy and the appropriate level of mania as “Fronkensteen” indeed embraces the family business. He has excellent chemistry with Igor played with relish by Laurence Williams; and Brooks’ archetypal Scandinavian blonde, Inga, played by a sparkling Sarah Elizabeth Hubber. Williams’ comic sidekick, hump and all, adds plenty of sly humour while Hubber gets to be both ditzy and sexy to great effect.

Natalie Burbage’s Frau Blucher (neigh) is suitably over-exaggerated as the mysterious housekeeper; Jon Lambert an imposing Monster whose howls of frustration and despair become something far more articulate in the latter stages; and Allen Blachford’s Dr. Frankenstein looms over proceedings with a couple of pivotal scenes.

The unexpected visit to Transylvania by Georgia McGivern’s Elizabeth (Surprise) in the second act is the catalyst for all sorts of shenanigans, one of which leads to her revelatory number Deep Love. Daniel Burton’s Inspector Kemp rallies the villagers to storm the castle but it’s his blind Hermit that provides one of the highlights as he unknowingly entertains the Monster (Please Send Me Someone).

Other highlights:

The beautifully staged Roll in the Hay as Frederick and Inga make their way to the castle in the back of a hay wagon… with yodelling;

Victor Frankenstein (and ancestors) exhorting his grandson to continue his work in Join the Family Business;

Natalie Burbage’s crazy, frantic, bodice ripping He Vas My Boyfriend;

The Monster becoming animated in Life, Life;

And the show-stopping numbers Transylvania Mania that closes out the first act, and, of course, the delightful Puttin’ on the Ritz where Frederick shows off his Monster in all his tap stomping, coat and tails glory.

The ensemble gives great support as variously villagers, students, ancestors and the band were very good. The transition between scenes was handled effectively with a screen also used to indicate the setting (laboratory etc) and project images such as the late Doctor Frankenstein.

This is crazy and high camp at times but it works due to a talented cast committed to the absurdity of it all. I certainly found myself laughing along merrily and tapping my feet to several of the numbers.

Directed by Brad Tudor, Musical Directors Kate McIntosh & Taui Pinker, with Choreography by Hillary Readings, Young Frankenstein has three more shows at the Koorliny Arts Centre on Friday 31st January at 8pm and 1st February at 2pm and 8pm.

In a word, this show is Alive!

Curtains - Playlovers (21 September 2013)

When the supremely untalented star of Robbin’ Hood of the Old West is murdered during her opening night curtain call, Lt. Frank Cioffi must save the show and solve the case – without getting killed!

This sleuthing business seems to be an exhausting task. What with all those suspects and a show that still has to be staged. Sleuthing whilst singing and dancing? Truly remarkable!

Let me say right off the bat that I loved this. Sometimes you go to the theatre for thought provoking drama, maybe to see something experimental or the work of a new playwright. Sometimes you get a rollicking, entertaining ride that is flat out enjoyable from start to finish. The latter was certainly the case tonight at Playlovers production of Curtains.

Billed as a "musical comedy whodunnit", the show has an immediate pedigree with the presence of Kander and Ebb in the credits. There were, indeed, moments of dialogue and music, even story beats that reminded me very much of Chicago. Then there was an odd [I named a play here that might give the game away so I have redacted it] vibe in the latter stages but we'll get to that later.

This is a big, bold, sassy musical with great songs, big set pieces and is genuinely funny. For an independent theatre company to tackle such a huge production (26 cast and a 10 piece orchestra) is wildly ambitious. To pull it off in such style is to be absolutely applauded. Great also to see a full house on the night a local football team was dominating the conversation around town.

The story revolves around the murder of the presumptive yet untalented star that no-one likes (an amusing cameo by the director!) of a new show opening in Boston that all involved hope will make it to Broadway. The cast are "sequestered" within the theatre as a police detective struggles to solve the crime whilst falling for one of the show's lesser stars; advising on how to make the production threatened by poor reviews better; oh, and dealing with the murder of other cast and crew members along the way.

It plays with the isolated murder-mystery trope but also amusingly comments on the myriad of issues faced when mounting a large musical production. The show within a show device plays out nicely with numbers reworked and reprised as part of the race against time to garner a more favourable review from a nasty Bostonian critic.

I apologise in advance for not mentioning the whole cast but they were uniformly excellent. Of the main performers:

Tyler Jones plays Lieutenant Frank Cioffi and he was fantastic in a role that had a LOT of very precise, rapid paced dialogue. He handled it with aplomb and was the standout from the moment Cioffi makes his introduction.

Claire Taylor plays Nikki Harris who "has her fingerprints over everything" and is the attention of Cioffi's romantic affections. They have a lovely dance number in the second act and Taylor plays Nikki with an endearing mix of ditziness and innocence.

Therese Cruise is the lyricist who assumes leading lady status after the murder of unpopular star Jessica Cranshaw. Sporting the strongest singing voice, Cruise has several great numbers, the highlight being the "Wide Open Spaces" finale. Her character is involved in the second love story here, playing off Tom Hutton whose character is her songwriting partner and estranged husband. They have a touching moment in "Thinking of Him/I Miss the Music (Reprise)" in the second act.

Other standouts are Helen Carey as the producer Carmen Bernstein who has a hard-headed approach to the theatre business ("It's A Business") and daughter Bambi played by Tamara Woolrych. Why does she call herself Bambi? The answer says a lot about the mother-daughter relationship and Woolrych threads the needle between bitchiness and disappointment as her character tries to prove her worth in the large shadow cast by her mother. Speaking of bitchiness, David Nelson as the director has a grand old time slinging insults the way of all and sundry to hilarious effect.

The set is simple but effective. The costumes are great with the added razzle-dazzle of typical showgirl flourishes. The orchestra was at times a little too loud for the singing but otherwise was in good form. The choreography took total advantage of the large space and the show was full of movement, never slowing down for an instance.

The story gets a little convoluted and silly deep in the second act as twists are revealed and revelations made but by that stage I was well and truly sold and having a great time with this. So I forgave the few quibbles I had with such plot machinations which reminded me of the aforementioned play that I didn't aforemention. The cast had insisted in the closing number bad things could happen to anybody who revealed the murderer! So I'm not even risking an obtuse reference!

Directed by Kristen Twynam Perkins with Musical Direction by Belinda Flindell and Choreography by Tammie Anne Rafferty this is definitely one to recommend.

The Rise and Fall of Little Voice - Koorliny Arts Centre (15 September 2013)

I made my way to Kwinana for a fast-becoming-regular jaunt down the freeway to the Koorliny Arts Centre, this time to see The Rise and Fall of Little Voice. I find this a most interesting and difficult story in both the incarnations I’ve now seen (play and film). It is an ugly duckling story populated by people who are essentially ugly. That makes it, for me, a challenging watch. The trick then is to unravel my reaction to the characters versus the performance of the actors.

The story is simple enough – the eponymous Little Voice or LV as she is known, fanatically listens to old records in her room and has become an expert impersonator of their vocal styles from Shirley Bassey to Marilyn Monroe and a whole variety in between. Her mother, who is dating a small time talent agent, sees her daughter as a way to a better life; the agent sees LV as a way into the spotlight and the dollars she will bring. They coerce her to perform at Mister Boo’s club. Meanwhile, quietly spoken telephone technician Billy innocently courts LV.

First off, the mother is thoroughly unlikeable and, in many ways, despicable. Full credit then to Judi Johnson who plays such a difficult character with full on gusto. Yes, I was squirming as I find the character’s motivations and actions largely abhorrent but that’s the way Mari Hoff is written. Anything but a total commitment to the character would fall flat. It’s uncomfortable at times but I can’t fault the commitment.

The agent is also problematic. More sleazy than charismatic, his put down of Mari in the latter stages of the play is simply nasty and mean spirited. The lady sitting next to me visibly blanched as he launched that horrid verbal assault. Again, credit to Ian Butcher for tackling another unsavoury character, that of Ray Say.

Hillary Readings provides gentle comic relief as Sadie Mae but even her character is mainly there to reflect the ugly side of Mari.

The structure is also problematic as the first act largely comprises the antics of Mari and Ray with LV very much in the background. We get glimpses of her talent and of the gentle romance that is to unfold but essentially we are immersed in Mari’s tawdry little world.

Then we get to the second act and this is where the play cranks into gear because it finally unleashes the star that is both the character of LV and Breeahn Jones who plays her. This story only works if you believe LV has the amazing talent to sing these standards AS the original performers. Jones shines when given full voice, pun fully intentional. I had not seen her perform before but the programme notes indicate she won 2011’s Best Actress in a Musical at the Finley Awards and she definitely has an excellent and versatile singing voice.

Geoffrey Leeder as Mister Boo moves things along nicely and the club is represented simply as a microphone in front of closed stage curtains with a lighting cue saying Mister Boo’s. This meant Jones was less than two metres away from where I was sitting in the front row and to see her go from reserved, put upon daughter to animated performer was a delight.

Then there is Jack McKenzie as Billy who, in a relatively small but pivotal role, adds genuine sweetness and charm. This is a critical counterpoint to all the crassness that surrounds LV’s world and he pulls it off well.

The set was very good with a split level representing the house – lounge room and kitchen downstairs; LV’s bedroom upstairs. The transitions though felt a bit clunky at times with the opening and closing of the stage curtains by hand when going to the club or outside the house.

Overall I enjoyed this but it is a story with many characters that are hard to warm to. Even LV’s eventual castigation of her mother, while earned, verges on being mean spirited itself. The singing, however, is excellent and the underlying love story paid off nicely.

Directed by Ian Cross.

The Guys - Classic Works (5 September 2013)

One of the hallmarks of great writing is authenticity - of character, of time, of place.

"The Guys", a play about a New York Fire Captain who meets a journalist in the aftermath of 911 to help write the eulogies of the men he lost, is great writing because it not only gives a fascinating insight into the microcosm of a NYC fire station but also in the wider context of the city itself and the ripple effects of that horrid tragedy.

The events of September 11, 2001 loom large over the play but it is full of humour and celebrates not heroes but humans. Ordinary people doing their job on an extraordinary day.

Beautifully performed by Adam T Perkins and Anna Bennetts, directed by Paula Koops and written by Anne Nelson who Anna met recently in New York, this is a wonderful portrayal of a cross section of first responders that day.

Memorable, funny, and moving. Above all, utterly authentic.

This is the first time this play has been performed in Australia. It is on at a newly created black box theatre in West Leederville. Most definitely a must see.

Madame Piaf - KNUTS Theatre (7 August 2013)

During the course of the year you get to see some really good shows in Perth, produced and performed by very talented people. Sometimes you get to see something truly exceptional.

Rhoda Lopez gives a brilliant, powerhouse performance as the eponymous lead in "Madame Piaf" at The Guild Studio in East Perth.

Congratulations to Stephen Lee for writing and directing this beautifully crafted tale and to the rest of the cast, Zalia Joi, David Bowyer and Emma Shaw as well as musicians Nikki Dagostino, Beth Sheldon and Jeffrey Harrold for bringing this to life.

Well deserving of the standing ovation it received!

Animal - Upstart Theatre Company (June 2013)

This is a brilliantly written play - layered, brutal, provocative, sly, heartbreaking - with every setup paid off to telling effect. Nothing is wasted or misplaced here. It is beautifully acted by Kingsley (Judd), Sally (Bruce) and Patrick (Downes) who clearly relish working with such quality material.

The tale of human drug experimentation in a time of civil unrest is indeed harrowing but there is plenty of dark humour here as well. The chilling conclusion, however, has ramifications far beyond the intimate portrayal of patient, doctor, nurse.

It really is exceptional theatre and highly recommended.