Melancholy Play: A Contemporary Farce - Hayman Theatre Company (21 April 2015)

There is a word – a Polish word I believe – that means the sadness one feels as the echo of laughter slowly fades from a recently emptied theatre. If only I could remember what that word is…

If I could then that’s how I would describe the aftermath of watching this very funny play that was wonderfully performed and staged. That and my now sudden guilty feelings about eating almonds!

Yes, this is a gloriously off-the-wall farce that spirals off into strange territory indeed as one of its characters turns into… an almond.

But let’s backtrack a little and start with Sarah Ruhl’s deliciously subversive script. Here it is melancholy and sadness - as embodied by Tilly (Zoe Street) - that is sexy and irresistible with happiness being a chaotic force that causes all kinds of disaster. Flipping the expected stereotypes around is a masterstroke that allows for the farcical and absurd but retains a key message with the almond transformation a clear metaphor. The last third of the play flirts with going way over-the-top but is grounded by an almost too obvious passage of dialogue delivered by Tilly that urges the characters to genuinely be there and support the nut afflicted Frances (Olivia Dugandzic)… even if they have to become nuts themselves. Yes, how does one truly support a friend or loved one who is enmeshed in sadness and melancholy?

Street is excellent as the bank employee Tilly. Her world weary, languid and poetic turn in the early going that marks her sadness as being so potent is terrific to watch. In turn, her therapist Lorenzo (Kane Parker); a tailor (Nathan Whitebrook); a hairdresser Frances (Dugandzic) and then Frances’ lover, the nurse Joan (Daisy Grant) all are drawn to and ultimately fall in love with her. Buoyed by such emotion that is magnified on her birthday, Tilly suddenly becomes inextricably happy causing everyone else to slip into sadness as her allure is somehow diminished. Here Street switches gears to become almost annoyingly ecstatic, playing children’s games and even riding a bike onstage at one point. It’s an eye-catching performance.

Whitebrook is the tentative tailor who kicks off proceedings by offering a defence of melancholy directly to the audience which is a technique used throughout as characters speak through hanging window frames. They also represent the portals to vistas that inspire melancholy such as wistfully gazing through a window on a rainy afternoon. His character’s descent into tear-filled and hiccupped sadness is nicely observed as is the boisterous rivalry with Lorenzo. Parker sports a very good Italian accent as the lovelorn therapist and he gives an exuberant performance that is amusingly capped off by his plaintive pleas to know if he too now is an almond. The fight scene with Whitebrook is a highlight. 

 

Dugandzic gives Frances that air of infatuation despite herself and the fact the character is already in a relationship. It is as if she is compelled to be with Tilly. I especially liked her ‘delivery’ as an ‘almond’ perched alongside the audience in her ‘letterbox’. Her ‘resurrection’ is masterfully staged. There is a late revelation regarding a dubious backstory that was perhaps one step too far for me but is well acted nevertheless. Daisy Grant’s nurse is seemingly far more practical so it’s a treat to see her play the ‘gaga’ looks and clinginess as Joan falls for Tilly’s charms as well.

The cast is rounded out by Savannah Wood, resplendent and elegant in a gown as she plays the cello to stage left. Wood played beautifully and added so much texture and tone to key moments. Of course, the cello is perhaps the instrument most suited to melancholy so it was cheeky and fun when Lorenzo asks her to play something ‘happy’ after the other characters suddenly realise she is there. This is another example of playing around with conventions with Tilly even handing her red balloon to the young boy sitting next to me.

The play fairly rockets along at just under 80 minutes and is well directed by Leah Mercer with seamless scene transitions and handoffs between characters. There is great energy throughout and, as I’ve come to expect with the Hayman Upstairs Theatre, good use of multiple entry and exit points for the actors. This is the second show I’ve seen there this year and it appears they have really taken their set designs up a notch with this and Spring Awakening. The wallpaper on the back wall; the varied rugs on the stage; the hanging frames; the centrepiece couch; Frances and Joan’s apartment space – all well-appointed and adroitly used.

Above all this is very funny even as the farce turns into something quite surreal in its last third. The performances are excellent, especially in the first half as Tilly weaves her spell. This is a really enjoyable production with only four more performances, 22-25 April at Curtin University’s Hayman Theatre Upstairs. 

Written by Sarah Ruhl, Directed by Leah Mercer, Melancholy stars Olivia Dugandzic, Daisy Grant, Kane Parker, Zoe Street, Nathan Whitebrook, and Savannah Wood.

Crave - Hayman Theatre Company (26 October 2014)

Four actors, four wooden chairs, one black box theatre. Two actors in white, the other pair in black. Male, female, black, white. Nameless, elusive, damaged. Short, precise lines picked up and carried by each actor as if thoughts tumbling in the breeze. Terrible words, terrible deeds, terrible legacy. Abrupt outbursts, anger, longing, obsession. Moments of eloquence, dense passages of intense monologue. Hurt. Futility. Abuse. Rape. Murder?

Confusion, annoyance, concentration. It’s Sunday night and I’m struggling. The fractured nature of the delivery and of the stylised writing forces me to pay attention. It is elliptical and obtuse. Initially it surprises me. Then it annoys me. Then slowly, awkwardly, its rhythms and darkness fascinate me. What is it all about? What does it mean? Why do I care? How should I respond? I feel emotionally distant as if watching an ugly transgression through Perspex. Is it even real?

Ultimately, did I like Sarah Kane’s writing? No. It was deliberately ambiguous, a verbal manifestation of that blurred object that refuses to fall into focus in the extreme of your peripheral vision. Far too much like hard work on a Sunday night. On any night.

What elevates the production is the fine work of all four actors who are very good with the exacting dialogue that requires precise timing; and the direction of Savannah Wood who keeps them in motion and interacting in striking pairings. Those actors are white-clad Caleb Robinson-Cook who gives a bravura extended monologue that was an emotional assault of rapid fire words that I later learnt took the better part of 12 weeks to nail in rehearsal. I can believe it. His black-clad male counterpart is Ryan Hunt who predominantly interacts with Annika-Jane Shugrue, also in black, while Emma Smith gravitates more to Robinson-Cook.  

All of them exhibit a range of emotions as they verbally joust over the most horrible of topics. This is full on and not for the fainthearted.  A couple of choice blood-curdling screams act as both punctuation points and a sonic slap in the face to make sure the audience’s attention doesn’t waver. The chairs are used as props throughout and there is a real physical nature to the performance that adds to the verbal conundrums. This is essential as a static presentation would have lost me in the more portentous meanderings of the writing.

At the end I could not help but admire the skill and precision that was used to bring a very difficult piece to life.

But what did it all mean?

My immediate reaction was that the black and white characters were different representations of a man and woman who were in a dysfunctional relationship with an exploration of the reasons for that dysfunction and its consequences. There were lines about generations passing on events and knowledge so I initially thought each embodied a family history of sorts. Talking to one of the actors afterwards he suggested they had tackled it as four separate characters, one pairing being the parents of the troubled couple. I had taken references to 'mother' as being more metaphorical but that’s the elusive nature of the play. Any interpretation might be valid with the non-specific stage directions in the script and the lack of clarity of who is talking to whom.

So I looked online for previous reviews from different productions and pretty much none of them offered a theory other than to list themes, general observations and exhibit a fascination with T.S. Eliot. At least I wasn’t the only one who found it hard work!

I can’t say I 'enjoyed' the play but it certainly was a fascinating if dark experience that was well performed and directed.

Crave was written by Sarah Kane, Directed by Savannah Wood and starred Caleb Robinson-Cook, Ryan Hunt, Emma Smith and Annika-Jane Shugrue.