Fractured - The Actors' Hub (8 April 2016)

One of the reasons fairy tales are an enduring and popular form of storytelling is that they present instantly recognisable archetypes and a strong moral framework. In more cynical times the “they all live happily ever after” resolution once good invariably triumphs over evil is somehow seen as less desirable and perhaps even a weakness as the world seldom works that way. Moral complexity and ambiguity rule the day as evidenced by grimmer, grittier takes on those other great fables, the comic book superhero.

Fairy tales aren’t immune to such reinterpretations with Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine’s Into The Woods a prime example. What cost does “happily ever after” demand? Fractured attempts a similar subversion with the tagline: What Disney didn’t tell you about schoolyard wolves and the lure of poisoned apples.

Developed by The Actors’ Hub’s Gap II students this self-devised piece warps well known fairy tale characters and tropes into a storyline where evil wins the day. The key difference is that fairy tales, as well as having clear archetypes for its characters, also have distinct storytelling patterns. The hero or heroine typically enters a special world to undertake a task or quest to defeat some kind of villain or challenge and then return with whatever prize comes with victory. There’s lots of rescuing of princesses, slaying of dragons, reversing of magic spells, defeating of evil witch/sorcerer/ogre/insert villain of choice. It’s a familiar story pattern ingrained in our DNA and explicitly explored by Joseph Campbell and later utilised by Christopher Vogler to become, for a long time, the pre-eminent screenwriting template in Hollywood.

Here though the germ of a good idea – that the storybook of each presumptive hero or heroine is being altered or even erased due to a magic potion – is lost in unfocused storytelling. All the elements are there – evil sorcerers, princes, princesses, a dark forest, a ball, wolves, poisoned apples - but I was unsure of the task or quest, which character(s) was the presumptive hero/heroine, what the stakes really were, and what was driving the story forward.

The scene is set with three cackling sorcerers of some description (Benjamin Constantin, Andrew Dunstan, Zach Clifford) brewing a magic potion. A pack of wolves headed by Butch the Bulldog (Nicholas Allen) and Blackheart the Beagle (Tyler Lindsay-Smith) entice a bored Prince Eric (Christian Tomaszewski) and his royal buddy Prince Kristoff (Quintus Olsthoorn) to come to a ball where three princesses will also be in attendance – Ariel (Lauren Thomas), Cindy (Sarah Papadoulis), and Bella (Grace Chapple). Another Prince – Adam (Daniel Moxham) – appears entranced by Cindy after an encounter in the woods. Various characters eat the poisoned apples that contain the magic potion and one of them disappears. The sorcerers triumph having altered all of the other characters’ storybooks as a result. There is no rescue, no quest, no happy ending.

A common fault with self-devised pieces is the lack of narrative drive leading to any kind of real conflict and climax. Here the princes are bored, the princesses seem more interested in hooking up with someone at the ball, and the wolves are just being mischievous. The only characters with any real motive are the bad guys and possibly Prince Adam though his character isn’t explored in any great depth. This means there’s no narrative momentum or the normal rhythms and turning points you would expect.

Lots of references to fairy tale characters are tossed into the dialogue but this was all surface level. Even the concept of the storybook was muddled as each character also had a ‘mirror’ that was used a surrogate for the trusty mobile phone with a couple of ‘elfies’ taken along the way. A ‘Tinderella’ gag might get a cheap laugh but such references felt incongruous and tended to undercut the fairy tale context.

Putting aside all the storytelling problems, it’s clear that The Actors’ Hub puts an emphasis on physical movement and voice work in their training. The wolves are a rambunctious bunch with energetic displays as they tumble over each other to amuse Prince Eric. The forest is well portrayed by actors contorted into different poses, some atop the other. Plenty of howling and cackling, while tending to wear out its welcome, showcased a full-throated approach.

The pick of the performances included Thomas as a prickly Ariel, Chapple as the virtuous Bella, while Tomaszewski made for a slightly pompous and languorous Eric, and Moxham intrigued as Adam. I would have liked to have seen his character better utilised as it felt as if he could have been the classic underdog hero.

There’s no doubt this was an exuberant performance and that there’s potential in this group of actors. However, no amount of enthusiasm and craft can make up for what was a jumbled storyline of missed opportunities. 

Escape Goat Utopia - Hayman Theatre Company (8 October 2014)

Nathan drops his last box of possessions as tears overcome him and he slowly slides down the wall, stage right until finally he curls up in the foetal position. An audience member, Nathan’s mother, can’t stand the pain of her son sobbing any longer and rushes onstage from her front row seat to comfort him. As her arms enfold him he looks up in anguish. ‘Mum, bugger off, you’re embarrassing me!” The Reviewer, also in the front row, thinks this suggestion is a wonderful idea as he talks to Nathan and his mother after the show and insists it must somehow be included… and so this paragraph came to pass…

None of this happened in the actual play, of course, but if it had the intrusion would have fit in perfectly to the absurdist, self-aware, meta-construct that was on display. A self-devised piece with the assistance of Jeffrey Jay Fowler, it is partly a commentary on the process of creating theatre; an existential rumination on the age old questions of who am I and what is my purpose; and for me, largely a showcase for the diverse talents of the cast. Then there are the goats.

Amusingly, in the best set piece – a lovely film noir parody replete with purple prose narration and femme fatale splendour that spins off into an all too clever discourse on theatre acting – a trap is set for the casual fan or critic. Beth (Tremlett) decries the person who tells her after a show that she was great, looked fabulous, and was clearly having fun as a shorthand way to avoid saying she is a bad actor. There is another layer of self-awareness here as the two-hander with Nathan (Whitebrook) clearly knows how good they both are as actors. While Beth was, as I’ve come to expect, excellent; did indeed look fabulous; and was having a good time with that particular iteration of her character, I dare not type that lest I… damn!

Embracing that conceit though, I can’t genuinely say I understood what the play was about or ultimately what it was trying to tell me. The theatre in-jokes were funny and well played but the existential crisis/debate was less interesting to me as it never really took a position. Throughout there is the recurring line, “this isn’t who you really are”; a notion that a Deep Thought like computer could conceive a moral code that could lead to world peace; and, in the long ensemble set piece at the end, further exploration about what would make the characters happy. The solution, in fitting with the tone of the piece, was absurdist and too obtuse for mine. Then there are those damn goats that were symbolically gnawing at the fabric of the universe. We’ll come back to them later, one in particular.

The structure is largely comprised of two-handers and initially felt like a series of skits after the first iteration of the more serious breakup scene between Nathan and Beth (yes, the characters use their actor’s first name). There was the death scene where one soldier (Monty Sallur) only wants to be told he is loved and beautiful by his reticent comrade (Jack Middleton) which was amusing, for some reason reminded me of Hair, but tended to be overlong as a sketch; two old schoolmates (Rhiannon Petersen and Rebecca Maynard) who have taken completely different paths in life have an awkward chance meeting at a supermarket; and an enthusiastic boss (played with gusto by Ariel Tresham) shows a new employee (Savannah Wood) the factory that makes toy goats. These pairings are revisited in seemingly alternative universes and it all folds in on itself and becomes self-referential until the end scene where all the actors assemble and intone in unison existential angst.

I loved the energy on display and there are genuinely funny parts such as when Jack storms off stage shouting ‘amateurs’ as the next iteration of the dying soldier scene is interrupted then debated by the ‘director’ (Ariel) and actors. My immediate response after the play finished was to say I was “processing” what I’d just seen… and that is a good thing though perhaps an ever elusive exercise. 

The set was simple with a silver curtain along the rear of the stage with turf covering the stage floor and side walls. There was good use of lighting and sound effects throughout to immerse us in this fantastical world. The acting styles also varied depending on the demands of any individual scene and there were moments of genuine drama between the absurdity and comedy. But what did it all mean…?  

Directed and written by Jeffrey Jay Fowler (based on a devising process), Escape Goat Utopia stars Ariel Tresham, Beth Tremlett, Rebecca Maynard, Jack Middleton, Monty Sallur, Nathan Whitebrook, Rhiannon Petersen and Savannah Wood and is on at the Hayman Theatre Upstairs until 11 October.  

Part 2

The Reviewer drops his programme as tears of frustration overcome him and he slowly slumps into his seat in the front row until finally he curls up in a semi-foetal position. A surprise cast member, Roxie Hart, can’t stand the pain of this critic sobbing any longer and rushes across stage from behind the silver curtain to comfort him. As her arms enfold him he looks up in anguish. “Roxie, bugger off, I’m processing here!” The actors, gathered on stage, think this notion is a wonderful development as they chat to The Reviewer after the show and insist it must somehow be included… and so this paragraph came to pass…

Okay, there appear to be clues throughout the play and here’s a theory *deep breath*…

The play is anchored by the breakdown in the relationship between Nathan and a pregnant Beth. It seems Nathan’s wayward tendencies – unfaithfulness, drugs and his pet goat – have caused an irrevocable split even though he pleads his case. The line, “this is not who you really are” that Nathan throws at Beth echoes throughout this and other scenes except for one notable exception when Beth later tells him this IS who you really are. Savannah also plays a pregnant character and ‘steals’ Beth’s showpiece monologue (which is beautifully delivered) - a surrogate version in his imagination?

Characters emerge from behind a shimmering silver curtain as if being summoned and disappear back into that glittery void. I would have to see it again but I don't recall Nathan breaking that 'barrier'. The philosophical discussions about moral codes and world peace possibly disguise his need for emotional stability. The play ends with a traumatised Nathan who has been moving out throughout the story collapsing into tears. 

I have a sneaking suspicion that the two-handers are wonderful perversions of his emotional trauma – the ‘dying’ character who needs to be told he is loved; a weird reinterpretation of how he met Beth (the “cute-meet”) now seen as two completely different (incompatible) people in the supermarket; his enthusiasm for the pet goat and Beth’s dismay morphed into the factory scene (where Nathan lurks in the background transfixed by a toy goat).

Then there is the fantastical film noir scene that comes immediately after the first set of pairings and puts the focus firmly back on Nathan and Beth. The ensemble sequence with all the characters speaking in unison would appear to be a giant echo chamber of his doubts and fears. Is Nathan like Roxie Hart in the movie version of Chicago taking real events - the breakup and its aftermath - and projecting them into fantasy? An escape indeed. 

Of course, there’s always the possibility that I am the goat…

A History of Happiness - Hayman Theatre Company (11 June 2014)

Ah yes, that elusive state we all strive for – happiness. But what does it mean to be truly happy? What has it meant down through the ages? What does it mean to YOU?

These are some of the questions posed by acting students from Curtin University in this 90 minute, self-devised production that is comprised of vignettes from moments in history, dance, direct audience interaction, various narrators, and even a ‘happy counsellor’.

The last of which I became acquainted with after being asked a question early on in proceedings and led out to the ‘happy room’ downstairs where I had a nice chat with said counsellor and sampled the assorted creams. (We agreed that the Monte Carlo is clearly the best choice in this regard. Another two audience members also had ‘counselling sessions’ though I can’t vouch for their biscuit preference!)

Back inside and the Neanderthals are giving way to Philosophy as we start asking questions about the nature of happiness and our place in the world before Religion arrives to shut down this practice and provide a ‘definitive’ answer (as Joan of Arc discovers in a re-enactment of her fiery demise). The discovery of Capitalism declares Money to be the new God before Power takes over and finally Freedom presents us with an overabundance of Choice. These moments are played with the majority of the company of some 35 actors on stage and I apologise for not naming the individuals until the end of this review as I am unfamiliar with most of them. Included in this are some four narrators deployed at various stages - setting the scene, interacting directly with the audience and each other, with one even asking questions of the actors. 

This is where the piece really shines because within the overarching construction of the ‘history’ there are recurring scenes - essentially two-handers - that examine different aspects of happiness and, interestingly, love.

The standout of these is a couple who are shown, mainly through dance, falling in love, being in love, falling out of love, then reconciling, with, if I interpret the last beat of the last scene correctly, impending parenthood. This was beautifully acted and handled.

Then there’s the anorexic egged on by his subconscious to exercise and lose weight, ever more weight, otherwise he is a disgrace. This arc has both dark and light with some nice comic moments by the two actors including an old-fashioned surprise that I won’t spoil but was a ‘laugh-gasp-out-loud’ moment.

We have two obsessive-compulsives who find each other after separate dates at the same restaurant go horribly wrong due to their ‘weirdness’. Again, full of humour but also a nicely narrated commentary about how love is sometimes about when two people find and accept each other’s weird habits and obsessions.

There is also a virginal, God-fearing woman in white hounded by a black clad Satan that has an interesting role reversal as the theme of Power is introduced in the context of relationships and how we handle that.

Lastly, there are six actresses who we see as young children around the age of 5-6 drawing on the back wall of the stage; then later as teenagers in what ends up being a quite raunchy sequence with the other cast joining them on stage doing what teenagers do; then as young mothers, and finally as elderly women. They are questioned by one of our narrators about what makes them happy, about their life choices, work choices, regrets, and the like. This personal history dovetails nicely with the larger history being told. There is a quiet highlight at the end of this sequence when the ‘surly’ one gives a quite moving plea to allow yourself to be marked by the dirt of life lest you end up in a nursing home alone, childless, with no friends.

When A History of Happiness first started it felt a little chaotic but then all these different threads were slowly deployed and this construction for a self-devised piece is quite elaborate and thematically impressive. There is also a great sense of zest in the performances and you can see the time and care the cast have invested. This is reinforced at the end when one of the actors simply states that being on stage performing is what makes the cast happy and it’s a wonderfully genuine and heartfelt statement. The cast sing Pharrell’s smash hit ‘Happy’ (of course) as they dance their way off stage before the audience is entreated to go out and find their own happiness.

This is a fun show with great use of humour and movement but it is also quite perceptive in its interrogation of what happiness is for without showing the dark how can we truly know the light?

There are three more performances, 12-14 June, upstairs at the Hayman Theatre and stars the Curtin University Performance Studies Devised Class of 2014: Zoe Barham, Samantha Barrett, Roisin Bevan, Holly Dodd, Danen Engelenberg, Rachel Foucar, Amy Johnston, Georgia Knox, Josh Lang, Lachie MacDonald, Kayla MacGillivray, Jim Maxwell, Gemma Middleton, Ashleigh Morris, Ellie Morrison, Amri Mrisho, Daniel O'Brien, Monty Sallur, Nicole Sandrini, Polly Seah, Aaron Smith, Emma Smith, Georgia Smith, Georgia Spencer, Madison Stirling, Zara Suryani, Nattida Thongin, Amelia Tuttleby, Savannah Wood and Judy Young.