THE KING'S PLAYER - Theatre Review

WHAT: The King's Player
WHEN: 19 - 26 April 2024
WHERE: Alex Theatre (Studio)
WRITTEN AND PERFORMED BY: Tref Gare

SCENIC ART BY: Jen Ellis Stevens

Tref Gare - Photo supplied

It is Comedy Festival season so our stages are chockers with stand up and cabaret artists, but if you look deep enough you can find some theatrical gems which are belly-achingly funny, yet taught and complex enough to please the most erudite of theatregoers. The King's Player, being presented by Victorian Theatre Company in the Alex Theatre Studio space is just such a delight.

Set in Elsinore, the King's player (Tref Gare) let's us tag along with him as he tries to find employment to feed his terrifyingly hungry belly. Along the way we learn about his dad, his willingness to imbibe in unknown substances, and his lack of knowledge of theatrical standards. We learn he is also the inventor of the single link chain much to his blacksmith father's disappointment and our great amusement.

The King's Player is having a 30 year revival and yet it seems as fresh and full of life as if it had only been devised on the rehearsal room floor last month. Early in his career, Gare trained in physical theatre and mime in Europe and then joined the touring company The Medieval Players. From these experiences he created this hilarious and insightful play. 

What surprises me, more than anything, is how an actor with this incredible level of skill in clowning and physical theatre is not appearing on mainstages regularly. We all know Tref's work featuring in the very many indie Shakespeare revivals around town such as Romeo and Juliet and As You Like It but none of these give him the scope to really show his incredible talents in the realm of physical theatre. You will know what I mean when you go and see this show. I recently said Andre de Vanny's work in Swansong was a masterclass in acting. Well Gare in The King's Player is the second in the series and every young actor in Melbourne should come and see this show to really understand what their craft is/should be.

In The King's Player Gare takes us down a maelstrom of Medieval conditions which juxtapose that Shakespearean representation of royalty. We see poverty, love, and sacrifice - things nobody in Hamlet's world seem to ever truly understand. We learn about the destitute and desperate life of a thespian in a time of plague and patronage, where the only way out is to be favoured by the monarch - a truly double edged sword as the King's player discovers for himself. Thank goodness for the magic of theatre ;) Somehow Gare has us laughing all the way!

All of this happens in just over an hour through the efforts of an indefatigable actor, naked hand puppets, and a magnificent backdrop created by Jen Ellis Stevens for the original season back in 1994. This work of art parodies the Bayeux Tapestry created back in 1077 and tells the tale of William the Conqueror's conquest of England. Stevens' 'tapestry' tells us the tale of the King's player's journey to conquer his vocation and if you look close enough, you can follow our protagonist's story as the events unfold. It made me think of the Graeme Base storybooks, and The Eleventh Hour in particular.

The King's Player is a magnificent piece of comic theatre. It has everything - canon, comedy, mime, puppetry, pathos, history, dreams, hope, hunger, starvation, panic, love... How on earth has Gare done this???? And how is it so side-splittingly funny????????

The King's Player is one of the best hours you will ever have in a theatre and this show is perfect for touring. It would be an amazing thing to take to high schools too - a great learning tool about history and theatre for those poor HSC candidates in desperate need of laughter and exposure to great contemporary art.

5 Stars

#SWIFTOK - Cabaret Review

WHAT: #SWIFTOK
WHEN: 11 Mar - 21 April 2024
WHERE: The Motley Bauhaus (Cabaret room)
WRITTEN AND PERFORMED BY: Dean Robinson

Dean Robinson - photo by Elyse Batson

The Comedy Festival is here and our stages are full of everything silly and fun. Dean Robinson's one person cabaret #SWIFTOK is very silly fun indeed and is playing at The Motley Bauhaus, upstairs in the cabaret room.

The premise is simple. Dean is a 14 year old 'Swifty' and is livestreaming from his bedroom his complete obsession with Taylor Swift. As quick as we might to disregard Swift and her fans it is important to remember just how important this woman who appears so unassuming actually is. 

Swift is one of the world's best-selling music artists. She is the highest grossing female touring act, and the first billionaire with music as her main source of income. Her music spans a wide range of music genre and (as Dean tells us and impressively demonstrates) her lyrics have been compared to the writings of William Shakespeare and the truth is her songwriting skills really are impressive. She writes all her own songs and is rerecording early releases to reclaim her IP. In case you want to deride her music, her grandmother was an opera singer and Swift has never used autotune to correct her vocals.

Robinson explains how TikTok works, and the range of Swifty's who inhabit #SWIFTOK including the conspiracy theorists, the lip synchers, and the clowns. Along the way he lament's Swift's poor record dating men with names starting with the letter J and seems to have undertaken a mission to get Swift back together with the infamous Harry Styles. Robinson talks about the derision Swift receives for writing from personal experience when that is exactly what all the male artists do too. This reminded me of the flack PINK got when she brought out 'I'm Not Dead'. 

All of this is accompanied by Robinson singing excerpts from Swift's playlist. My biggest criticism is how pitchy he is and how by the end all of the excerpts started sounding like the same song. Maybe that is a deliberate commentary too? In his defense though, the venue had a VERY loud jazz band downstairs on the night I went which was very distracting.

Interspersing the Swift obsession there is some reference to reality with Robinson not speaking to his best friend Brittany because she has a boyfriend now, and there is someone called Troy who is a classmate. All of that got a bit lost for me and I wonder if this was aged right. My recollection of being 14 was a great desire to become an adult. It sounded to me like Brittany, Dean and perhaps Troy were still playing primary school games... 

#SWIFTOK is a bit unpolished right now, but it is harmless fun and Robinson has a natural childish charm which makes you want to smile whenever he does and the props are so much fun. If you don't know much about (or have never heard of) the TCU you will learn a lot, and if you are a Swifty you will have a good time. Robinson even leaves us with a prediction into the future and now all I can do is wait and see...

3 Stars

DUCK DUCK GOOSE - Theatre Review

WHAT: Duck Duck Goose
WHEN: 3 - 13 April 2024
WHERE: Theatre Works
WRITTEN BY: Catriona Daly
DIRECTED BY: Timothy Wynn
DESIGN BY: Mikailah Looker
AV DESIGN BY: Lachlan van der Kreek
SOUND DESIGN BY: Morgan Francis
LIGHTING BY: Arielle Roberts
PERFORMED BY: Emily Carr, Matt Domingo, Mitchell Holland, Rachel Nutchey, Jeanda St James, and Ilia Swindells

Ilia Swindells and Matt Domingo - photo by Darren Gill

What a play Duck Duck Goose is! Irish playwright Catriona Daly has written the play which needed to be written for men today. Being presented at Theatre Works until the 13th April, Ipswich based That Production Company is bringing us a story about what it is to be men in a world becoming intolerant of 'boys will be boys' behaviour. 

The party of all parties happens. The play begins the next morning. Chris (Mitchell Holland) finds himself waking up on his mates' kitchen floor and is startled by the appearance of Jane (Rachel Nutchey) who is playing on her phone. She appears to be doing a walk of shame after boozy sex with Davey (Matt Domingo) and has a strangely tense and confusing conversation with Chris before leaving. Davey and housemate Andy (Ilia Swindells) emerge and have another confusing conversation with Chris about deleting a toxic male What's App groups they belong too. 

Eventually it emerges that Jane lays charges against Davey saying he raped her, and Andy tried to join in. The men deny it, of course, and Chris is put in the position of choosing to stand up with his bruvs. When he does actually go ahead and delete the What's App group, he becomes complicit, and they all face legal trial. 

Chris, in particular, faces trial by media and social media. Chris is constantly reminded he didn't see what happened so why does he insist it didn't happen? The recurring theme becomes the refrain 'if it talks like a duck, 90% of the time it is a duck'. If all of the chat talk is misogynistic and violent, there is a strong likelihood someone in the group is going to be exactly that type of person.

This is what makes Duck Duck Goose so important. It is not about rape or guilt. It is about perception and loyalties and probabilities. This is Chris' story, not Davey's or Andy's. Chris wasn't in the bedroom and didn't see or do anything, but he becomes socially crucified because of his staunch support for his friends. On the other hand, he is absolutely sure it didn't happen because Chris saw Jane immediately afterwards in the kitchen and she didn't 'look' traumatised. Sitting alongside this questioning of unsubstantiated loyalty is the question what does trauma look like? 

Possibly the most compelling scene is when Chris goes on a Tinder date with Marie (Jeanda St James). She talks about an incident on a bus when a guy sat beside her and exposed himself and started masturbating. Her point was that most of the people on that bus, if asked, would likely say they don't tolerate assault, but all anyone did was move away or get off. On the other hand, Marie was confused and in shock and did nothing and went to work just like any other day. She was completely traumatised but anybody looking would have said she was fine. Another regular refrain across the work is how can people stop assault when they can't recognise it even when it is happening right in front of their eyes?

Daly deftly avoids the conversation being split along gender lines though. Chris' sister Sarah (Emily Carr) sides with her brother and his friends and a male radio shock jock, Leo (Swindells), becomes a strident interrogator who exposes some deep prejudices held by Chris both to the public and to Chris himself.

Director Timothy Wynn has created a show with extremely strong visuals and the cast is strong. I had one big hesitation with the casting. It is great that it is diverse, but Wynn has accidently created a show where the people of colour actors are the sexual offenders, and the white guy is the poor innocent lost in a maelstrom of slings and arrows. I am confident that was not the intention, but it is a really big OOPS!

Mikailah Looker (designer) has created a strong visual impact with a white rectangular rostrum across the width of the stage with a mirroring border above which allows a kind of tickertape messaging which tracks the time lapse of the show across the front. The concept of nothing is black and white contrasting with the white set in a black box theatre is strong and it also has a sense of a police lineup. On the other hand, there is little depth to the acting space which makes watching the show feel a bit like watching a tennis match. The scrap heap of kitchen stuff in the corner is a tragedy and using the fridge for everything and serving wine from a dirty coffee kettle in the date scene let the show down badly.

The AV works by Lachlan van der Kreek is impressive. The stage floor becomes a mobile phone interface, the tickertape messages swing from literal to abstract ideas, and the text is projected on the back wall for comprehension and accessibility for the d/deaf community. I really did like how the captioning was done but the font is too small, and it is pointless for the first half because the lighting designer (Arielle Roberts) floods the theatre (for no dramaturgical reason - AGAIN!) which takes ages to dissipate. Even if the font had been bigger, we still would not have been able to read the words easily through all that haze. Do it or don't do it. Stop messing around with accessibility. And yes, the captions are necessary because the entire show is played with a strong Galway accent and spoken at fast pace which means a lot of people need the support of the text on the back wall to keep up and understand what is happening. 

Apart from the haze, the lighting design is crisp and effective. The sound design by Morgan Francis is strong and compelling. All of the production elements work well. Perhaps one other reservation was that Holland never changes or adjusts costumes when everybody else does. He is on stage the whole time, which is a challenge, but it is odd that he is in casual sweats and bare feet all through the show including on the date and in court. I think simple costume shifts (such as shoes, perhaps) would have been possible within the arc of the show.

The cast is impressive although I would have liked Nutchey to find more definition between the three characters she plays (Jane, waiter, Sarah's friend). Swindells was mesmerising as toxic male Andy, and also the coked up radio DJ Leo. The build-up of misdirection and constant pressure Leo applies to Chris in the radio interview interrogation is masterful and the centrepiece of this production. Holland carries his central role well and never lets the energy or tension drop in what is a really huge role.

Duck Duck Goose is one of the most important plays I have seen on stage in a long time and this production has strong visuals and performances to take it where it needs to go. It is a clever interrogation of those grey areas where we don't know quite what is going on. It asks the question how much effort do we make to look at the context to find out? 'If it talks like a duck, then 90% of the time it is a duck'. How can we stop assault when we don't even recognise it when it is happening right in front of us?

4.5 Stars

THE DRESS: Theatre Review

WHAT: The Dress
WHEN: 22 Mar - 30 Mar 2024
WHERE: Werribee Mansion
WRITTEN BY: Alaine Beek
DIRECTED BY: Nigel Sutton
PERFORMED BY: Alaine Beek, Lore Burns, and Scott Jackson
COSTUME BY: Harry Quinert

Scott Jackson - photo by David Mullins

A classic comedy of manners written in Melbourne? Who would have thought? Yet here one is in all its original glory and performed in the most perfect setting. The Dress is being presented for its second season (originally produced in 2022) at Werribee Mansion by Essence Productions for two weekends only. Head out west to see a glorious couture period gown presented in a sumptuous heritage estate and brought to life with a witty script and lively actors.

Celebrating the period in which the Werribee Mansion was built, Alaine Beek has written a comic yet heart-warming 90-minute play set in the late 1800s. Mrs Hannah Green (Beek) has been a widow for three years, living alone in her husband's mansion. As was the custom at the time, the estate was bequeathed to her son, and he has reduced her household staff to 4. This has now diminished to only 2 because people in that era were eschewing domestic jobs for factory work. Yes, factory work was possibly more dangerous, but I personally understand why you would resent being a drudge for wealthy loafers despite the romantic tomfoolery suggested in shows like Downton Abbey and Upstairs Downstairs. Especially if you had made it all the way to Australia to get away from that sort of thing!

Still, it would be very lonely sitting around such an enormous estate with nobody to talk to and only your grief to keep you company. Back in those days, before pret-a-porter, one of the closest relationships women of means had been that with their seamster. Attire and status have always been synonymous across human history and dressmakers definitely madeth the woman in society in those days. In The Dress, Mr Bertin (Scott Jackson), is Hannah's seamster/confidante. 

The play begins at the point in Melbourne history when George's department store opened. Georges was unique in that it was a department store like Myers, but it catered exclusively for the well-to-do. Going there to shop was a full experience including fussing attendants, free (top shelf) alcohol, and an array of items which must have been positively mind-boggling at the time. What this meant for artisan dressmakers though, was a substantial loss of clientele and an inability to match the selection and availability of fabrics and finished clothing.

Mr Bertin is a desperate man. His customer base is receding at a rapid pace, the only form of marketing is word of mouth, or your clothes being worn at social occasions, and all of his money is invested in his fabric stock personally sourced from overseas trips. Bertin stumbles upon a clever idea. There is a masquerade on the upcoming social calendar, so he needs to find a patron to wear one of his creations to get some buzz and some business happening. But who?

Bertin has a delightful relationship with Hannah. She hasn't bought a gown in years, moping about her manor in black since her husband's death. Despite this, Bertin still visits regularly and they laugh and talk. On this visit, though, Bertin has a plan, and it has a dual purpose. He needs a gown at the masquerade, and he desperately wants his friend to come out of mourning and live her life to the full again. As he says, she is missed by everyone. 

Peeking through her diary Bertin identifies a name she has put a little heart beside - Mr Flattery - and commits to bringing this gentleman back into Hannah's life to escort her to the ball. There is a catch, however. No matter how hard he tries, Bertin cannot find Flattery. Hannah knows why and spends the time leading up to the ball playing with Bertin and his pretences, all the time letting him create a concoction she is sure she will never wear. Along the way we learn some Melbourne history and a bit about the art of couturier, Hannah has a lot of fun with a lobster, and Bertin gets a Cinderella story.

The Dress is performed in traverse along the main hall and up the grand staircase and the tale is accompanied by the depth and beauty of the sounds of a single live cello played by Lore Burns on the night I attended. Nigel Sutton (director) has done a great job with the constraints of this kind of theatre configuration (which seems to be having a revival across Melbourne I might add...) and Jackson keeps the pace energetic and lively as he strides and struts and patters up and down the hall always in a state of agitated excitement and exuberance. Beek has an elegance and dignity very suitable for the Lady she is portraying and there is a nice synergy of her slight Scottish accent referencing the original Scottish Chirnsides who built the Werribee Mansion in the 19th century.

The Dress is funny and sweet with just enough pathos to give it gravitas. The staging in the Werribee Mansion gives the story an authenticity and really does create an atmospheric connection to those times in which it is set. My one regret was I wanted the waltzing moment to be bigger, last longer. It has the opportunity to truly transport us back in time if they would literally sweep down the whole length of the great hall and back again. It has the potential to be as meaningful as 'Shall We Dance' in The King & I. 

I really enjoyed The Dress and the actual dress, made by Harry Quinert, is breath-taking. It does everything it sets out to do. It's a funny warm fuzzy in very dystopian times. If you don't live in the western suburbs why not take the opportunity to stay overnight in the hotel and then visit the zoo on your way home the next day? What a wonderful little mini-break that would be!

4.5 Stars

SWANSONG - Theatre Review

WHAT: Swansong
WHEN: 13 - 22 March 2024
WHERE: TW Explosives Factory
WRITTEN BY: Conor McDermottroe
DIRECTED BY: Greg Carroll
PERFORMED BY: Andre de Vanny

Andre de Vanny - photo supplied

The Irish have a long history of ... well, everything. The recurring cultural themes which come out of that tiny nation are poverty, violence, and emotional depths deeper than the Mariana Trench. The women are unbreakable and the men cry behind their flailing fists. From this tradition springs Conor McDermottroe's play Swansong, enjoying a third run at Theatre Works - following hit seasons in 2018 and 2019.

Swansong is the (quite typical) story of a young Irish lad growing up poor in the western port of Sligo. Sligo has a long history of poverty and was one of the ports the famine ships (or coffin ships) used to transport Irish to the Americas in the 19th century during the Potato Famine. Around 30,000 Irish left from the Sligo port and McDermottroe draws on that history to frame the story of our beset Irish lad Occi (Andre de Vanny). The precise time in which the story is being told is not important. The play was written in 2005, but the film version which followed in 2009 sets the present as being around the 1970's. 

What we see in this production of Swansong is an open, black, end stage theatre without any kind of staging or cloths. Just some theatre lights hanging from the grid, on a boom, and a lonely Par Can in one corner on an H-stand. We know instantly this is stripped back theatre. Everything about this show is going to rest solely on the shoulders of the actor. It is an act of great bravery by director Greg Carroll. Or perhaps not, given he is working with perhaps one of our greatest actors of current times.

The lights come up and out strides de Vanny in a dated brown shirt, brown leather jacket, and faded blue trousers. He calls out a hearty hello in a lilting brogue and stares straight into the audience, but it is not us he is seeing. He is speaking to his favourite swan, Agnes, as he tosses bread to her and fights off the other swans coming in for a feed.

The term swansong refers to the myth that just before dying swans sing their most glorious songs. It is not true, but the myth has been a part of Western society since Aesop's fable (and probably earlier) The Swan and The Goose. Is this tale we are about to launch into going to be Occi's swan song? In truth we never find out. The film may be more explicit in this as it is in all aspects of the story. Is this Agnes's swan song? Again, we never find out. One of the criticisms I have about the script is the end doesn't resolve well, but maybe I am possibly just putting too much weight in the title.

As Occi watches Agnes swim away he sees the swans all heading for a wreck in the harbour. He tells us it is a coffin ship and speaks to the despair the starving people on the dock must have felt as they watched it sink. I have done a bit of research. I can't find any evidence of a coffin ship called the St Martin but the point is made well and the link of endless Irish poverty with the fated life of Occi is established. As we peer into those sepia toned stories of yesteryear, we move forward into Occi's troubled life.

Occi was born into poverty as an illegitimate son in a time when being a bastard was a literal thing and had appalling social consequences. Anyone who watched Game of Thrones knows what I mean. Occi (pronounced Okky) was christened Austen Byrnes, but McDermottroe has a lot of fun playing with his own history working in Australia to embed the chant 'Occi Occi Occi, Oy Oy Oy'. It is a fun bit of silliness and works well to draw in an Australian audience who might otherwise find themselves wondering why they should care about this young man's life.

Occi seems to have suffered some sort of neurodivergence after an unfortunate barrel roll down a very steep sand dune in his childhood. Young boys playing dangerous games which have tragic endings is another trope we all know well. You know things are not going to end well as soon as Occi starts setting up the story. There is no specific diagnoses but across the course of the show there is the inference he is not the brightest bulb on the block, and he definitely has anger management issues. 

He also finds himself, after one violent incident, in a psychiatric institution. Here is where he meets the love of his life, Mary. The title of the play also refers to the fact that swans mate for life. The fate of both Occi and Agnes are bound together in this sad tale.

Mary leaves the institution, and sometime later so does Occi but they don't meet up again immediately like some sort of Hollywood fantasy film. Occi struggles to manage his medication regime and has to resort to the dangerous work of deep-sea fishing to earn a living. A man dies and, in an attempt to avoid consequences Occi joins the army. It is at this point the story reveals a strangely ironic humour and eventually leads us back to where this 90 minute of theatre began.

A 90-minute one person show is not something I would usually even begin to enjoy. In the outrageously skilled hands of de Vanny though, the time marched on with pace, pathos and humour. There are sadly many fewer great actors on the stages in Melbourne than I would like to see. I am thinking people of the calibre of Syd Brisbane and Evelyn Krape. Andre de Vanny is one of those actors and you should not miss the chance to see a master of their craft in all their glory. This actor is the whole package - voice, body, intention. Occi is de Vanny, de Vanny is Occi. And Occi is sweet and pathetic and angry and violent and loving.

I am glad McDermottroe made the movie because the script doesn't fully realise all of its characters and ideas. It was written for himself as an acting vehicle and is now a legacy in the theatre canon for men to tell men's stories. Part of me hesitates over the play because it feeds into that age old male myth that a single insult is a socially acceptable trigger for violence. The play also lets Occi literally get away with murder, inferring his poverty is excuse and punishment enough. On the other hand, it holds back from becoming a ballad of violence and finds a way out so that we can like Occi at the end. I don't know if that is a good or bad thing...

Regardless, de Vanny's performance is a triumph and Carroll did the best thing a director can do with a performer of this calibre - stay out of his way. It does not surprise me that de Vanny has been able to take this to the world across the years. There will always be an audience for a story like this and de Vanny's performance is a masterclass in acting.

5 Stars.

CAR CRASH - Theatre Review

WHAT: Car Crash
WHEN: 11 - 16 March 2024
WHERE: The Butterfly Club (Upstairs)
WRITTEN BY: Gregory Vines
DIRECTED BY: Cassandra McGrath
PERFORMED BY: Elyse Batson, Alec Gilbert, Melanie Madrigali, John Voce, and MJ Wilson

Melanie Madrigali and Alec Gilbert - photo supplied

Here's one for all the Yes Minister fans out there. We all remember that outrageous interview Prince Andrew gave in 2019 about his association with notorious sex offender Jeffrey Epstein. You know the one I mean. The one where he explained his miraculous ability to not sweat. Playwright Gregory Vines has decided to take a peek behind palace doors and imagine what the conversations would have sounded like in his play Car Crash now playing at The Butterfly Club.

The scenario for Car Crash is pretty simple. Two royal advisors (Alec Gilbert and Melanie Madrigali) spin their way through 'family' troubles. They seem to be Prince Andrew (John Voce) specialists and vacillate between boredom and apoplexia trying to manage the Prince's PR. 

The play begins with Gilbert lamenting the toughest decision of the day, trying to choose between a gingernut biscuit and a shortbread for dunking into his tea. Madrigali comes in with the morning papers and the two banter with all of the rhythm and wordplay of that venerable English comedy series I mentioned earlier. Over the course of the hour the two exalt the death of Epstein and ponder the fact that everyone (including themselves) knows/went to school with Ghislaine Maxwell. Then they catch wind of the upcoming interview and their poor little stultified brains whirl into overdrive to plan his interview strategy. We may never know who the brainchild behind that piece of PR absurdity was really, but Gilbert gives a very credible indication it was him!

In their defence, both advisors wanted to pull the plug but then in strides the Prince and all hope of an elegant way out fail in the face of royal obtuseness. Along the way there is a baffling (and not very well crafted) interruption by a professor (MJ Wilson) trying to lobby for a start-up enterprise. That part of the play doesn't really work. I think it was to demonstrate how the real business of the realm gets ignored whilst all the royal shenanigans dominate time and money but it isn't strongly on point and poorly acted so all it does is make the play longer than it needs to be. The show is only an hour long but it feels longer than that because of these scenes and the extraordinarily long blackouts.

Apart from this, the acting across the rest of the ensemble is right on point and Voce brings excellent energy to his cameos as the Prince. Gilbert is perfect as a Sir Humphrey type character. Madrigali's performance is equal to Gilbert's but I do think her character misses it's mark. This kind of writing needs to be played in a Laurel and Hardy style. You need the fool and the straight man (person). In this scenario the show would have had a lot more energy and laughs if Madrigali avoided dropping into fellow foolery with Gilbert. A lot of the humour in a Nigel Hawthorn type of character lies in the 'clear thinking' one being led down rabbit holes in a completely unexpected manner, not in joining in with the crazy. 

This may not be all Madrigali's fault. The show is directed by Cassandra McGrath but I am not convinced she has a lot of experience in stage direction. As lively as Vines' script is, the actual staging of this show is boring. Actors sitting on stage and talking is the absolute death knell of live performance. There is nothing interesting for the audience to see when everyone is sitting and there is little opportunity for actors to communicate their relationship with each other when stuck in a chair. It is even worse when the chairs are on opposite sides of the stage and facing straight out to the audience. The Butterfly Club stages are small but that should incite challenge and innovation in directors, not encourage them to give up.

There is one other actor in the show who I haven't mentioned yet. Elyse Batson plays the quiet, obedient, and disregarded servant Maddison. Batson is a tall woman with a surprisingly imposing presence and a mobile face which speaks volumes even though she speaks very little. I think in the right role, Batson will dominate the stage.

Car Crash is not going to change the world, but it is funny in a retro English way. The characters are archetypes we are all familiar with even though the topic is starting to fade into deep past. Time before COVID seems so much further back than it really is... If sipping tea and dithering about royal foibles is your thing, Car Crash will be exactly your cup of tea.

3 Stars.

EVERY LOVELY TERRIBLE THING - Theatre Review

WHAT: Every Lovely Terrible Thing
WHEN: 28 - 16 March 2024
WHERE: Theatre Works (Acland St)
WRITTEN BY: Adam Fawcett
DIRECTED BY: Justin Nott
SET BY: Harry Gill
COSTUMES BY: Martelle Hunt
LIGHTING BY: Sidney Younger
PERFORMED BY: Lyall Brooks, Emma Choy, Sharon Davis, Jordan Fraser-Trumble, Megan Jones, and Wil King
SOUND BY: Tom Backhaus
AV BY: Aron Murray
STAGE MANAGED BY: Ashleigh Walwyn

 

Lyall Brooks and Wil King - photo by Pia Johnson

It has been a long time since I have seen an original Australian play with a really classic feel and timbre. I mean the kind of play which resonates with the depth of plays like Summer of The Seventeenth Doll or The One Day of The Year for example. Every Lovely Terrible Thing, written by Adam Fawcet, produced by Lab Kelpie and now showing at Theatre Works sits, rather surprisingly, in that wheelhouse. For those of you with more international leanings, you might want to think of plays like Miss Julie and August: Osage County perhaps to get a sense of this play before going to see it.

This story follows the well-worn concept of a family coming together, usually in a rural setting, and airing all their dirty laundry, reliving childhood trauma and rivalries, and rarely resolving very much at all. Along the way someone tends to die, someone 'comes out', and someone gets drunk and starts a fight. Every Lovely Terrible thing does not stray far from the formula, but the characters are, for the most part, well developed. As well, this play throws in a bunch of post-dramatic affects with varying degrees of success to bring a traditional narrative arc into the 21st century. 

I want to say the coalescence of all of this level of disfunction is beyond reality but, to be honest, the Coleman's are pretty tame compared to the whole lot of crazy in my family tree and, sadly, I don't believe we are that far from 'normal'. I wish I was more shocked by the story lines than I am. Having said that, Every Lovely Terrible Thing has a good dose of troubles for most trauma-addicted theatre goers to indulge themselves in.

The Colemans' reside in a country town. The dad is dead, the mum (Megan Jones) is dating. The son (Lyall Brooks) and daughter (Sharon Davis) are twins - of course! The son (Charles) inherited the local pub and the daughter (Britta) escaped the nest and moved to Sydney but finds herself back in the family home and pregnant. Charles is married to Phoebe (Emma Choy) and they have their own grown-up child, Cooper (Wil King). Cooper is struggling to find their identity outside pre-existing paradigms and is challenged by a range of life lessons which come in the form of the local tradie, Lachie (Jordan Fraser-Trumble). 

Even though the structure and characters are very familiar to us, don't be put off by that. The story is well constructed, and the characters are crafted with depth and complexity which makes Every Lovely Terrible Thing a very satisfying and substantial night of theatre. There is very little which is new in our world, and there are even less old stories told well. Every Lovely Terrible Thing is an old story told very well.

Despite its classic structure and content, Every Lovely Terrible Thing has a range of post-dramatic constructs and also sits comfortably within the genre of queer theatre as well. I don't think all of those contemporary tricks and bits and bobs work or enhance the story, but they also don't detract from it too much, so I guess I am left with 'why the hell not?'

One thing that doesn't work is the appearances of the character Kid Coyote (Fraser-Trumble). This character and the videography (Aron Murray) do not fit the location or the narrative. The concept comes from the video game Red Dead Redemption but nobody plays video games in this play, and the play is set in contemporary Australia, not a post-apocalyptic America. Including this character confuses the narrative. I am guessing it is there to build tension and raise the stakes, comparing family feuding to the level of blood and gore. The play does constantly reference hunting so the idea is fine, but the reference only reads to gamers. 

Coopers little fantasy interludes, on the other hand, are brilliant and flow from the opening scene watching classic movies with his grandmother (Jerrica). The relationship between Jerica and Cooper is one of great love and beauty, and a wonderful counterpoint for Jerrica to the stressful disconnect with her own children. Cooper helps her to look forward with hope to a future whilst Charles and Britta drag her kicking and screaming into a painful past which cannot be forgotten and certainly will never be forgiven.

A recurring theme in Every Lovely Terrible thing is that horror movie staple, the rabbit. The tradition of rabbits in horror stories is long and proud. Why? Because they are cute from a distance, but if you get close they have the eyes of a psychopath and the claws to scratch your eyes out. We also associate them with hunters, being skinned, and as food. It is interesting to note in Fawcett's play the rabbit which keeps appearing is brown and straggly and ugly, whereas the one in Justin Nott's (director) production is pristine and white and cartoonish. Nott's rabbit fits the queer theatre genre better, but I think Fawcett's rabbit is scarier and leads us to the revelations in the play more clearly. 

The acting in Every Lovely Terrible thing is consistently good across the ensemble although Choy needs to develop her ability to project a bit more. I was sitting in the front row and struggling to hear her. King is phenomenal as Cooper, and they have no problem meeting the demands of the central character. 

Most of the play resolves well although a couple of story lines don't earn their ending. There is no hint in act 1 to support Phoebe's choices in act 2 - either in the script or in the direction/acting. It makes that story choice feel gratuitous and as a woman I am tired of theatre making gratuitous choices for female characters. 

Also, there is a whole story line completely undeveloped for Charles. The end of the play is crafted like a movie inferring there will be a sequel, but I don't know if that works in theatre because who knows if the sequel is ever going to materialise or when? More detailed work from the director in act 1 would make this final moment not leave the audience feeling like they are missing out on something big and important. There is a wonderful, corrugated iron shed in the set. We need to be pointed to it more often in act 1.

The set (Harry Gill) is incredibly full and detailed. I rarely say this at Theatre Works, but it might just be a bit too busy. Martelle Hunt's costumes are perfection. I do want to mention if the script calls something a dress, then either the character should wear a dress, or the director should change the word to skirt. Simples! Tom Backhaus' sound was effective if a bit loud.

Sidney Younger's lighting is perfection and I even forgive the gratuitous smoke machine. I always love Younger's work. I have, however, come to the conclusion that lighting lecturers get kickbacks from lighting suppliers on the sale of theatrical haze/smoke. The mind boggles as to how much money is spent on the stuff this century. I know what haze does for film and it is important in that context. It does not have the same efficacy on stage. Many a theatre budget would look a hell of a lot healthier at no loss to the dramaturgy if we just didn't spend that money. In this instance it did detract from the 'river' lighting though because it was more fun watching the laser show up in the grid than watching the ripples on stage.

Every Lovely Terrible Thing is a great piece of text-based theatre written with confidence and depth. Theatre is about telling our stories and revealing the hidden. This play does those things well and the production elements and performances are excellent. This is a play to see and remember as part of the Australian canon.

4.5 Stars

RUTHLESS! THE MUSICAL - Musical Theatre Review

WHAT: Ruthless! The Musical
WHEN: 1 - 24 March 2024
WHERE: Alex Theatre
BOOK & LYRICS BY: Joel Paley
MUSIC BY: Marvin Laird
DIRECTED BY: Chelsea Matheson
MUSICAL DIRECTION BY: Dave Barcay and Ned Dixon
SET DESIGN BY: Damien Jones
COSTUME DESIGN BY: Britni Leslie
LIGHTING DESIGN BY: Jason Bovaird
PERFORMED BY: Olivia Charalambou, Dolly Diamond, Chloe Halley, Stephanie Astrid John, Britnie Leslie and Emma Clair Waxman
SOUND DESIGN BY: Rhiannon Gilmore
STAGE MANAGED BY: Dylan McBurney

Britnie Leslie, Chloe Halley and Dolly Diamond - photo by Angel Leggas

The nights are stupidly hot at the moment, and the weeks are still long. I can think of few better ways of getting through life right now than sitting in an elegant theatre and watching a light-hearted musical with outrageously glamourous costumes and a dark heart. Ruthless! The Musical, playing at the Alex Theatre, is just the ticket (pardon the pun) to help us get through the remnants of summer. There is the added bonus of being able to go for a late night stroll along the beach afterwards too.

Ruthless! The Musical is a parody of stage mum stories like Gypsy, has more than a slight whiff of the darkness of Sweeney Todd, and an ending to rival Hamlet. Created by Joel Paley and Marvin Baird in 1992, Ruthless is the story of an 8 year old dancing/singing prodigy who learns at a young age that success is a combination of talent and opportunity - and sometimes you have to actively create the opportunity. Or is it? Ruthless has a lot of fun twists and turns as it meanders across the evening. In 2015 Paley created a 90 minute version of the show but I don't think this is that version as Stagebug's production goes for just over 2 hours including interval. Surprisingly I did not find this a problem which speaks to how much fun the show is.

Ruthless is visually stunning. Damien Jones' set design sits squarely in the style of the genre and whilst the costumes and set do have a candy pink theme, Jone's never lets it overtake the scenic tableaux just as Britni Leslie (costumes) also reigns the colour in just enough to stop it from becoming sickly and overwhelming. The detail in all the costumes is incredible but your jaw will literally drop to the floor when you see Ginger Delmarco's (Leslie) gown in Act 2. That is the dress dreams are made of!

Ruthless is not a perfect production. I have issues with some directorial (Chelsea Matheson) choices. The performers all work far too much to the audience. I honestly found myself looking behind me to see if there was conductor cam up in the mezzanine or if the band was actually up there rather than backstage. Neither of those things were true. I know it is a part of the genre to sing out but, at least in the acting parts, it would be nice to believe the characters are speaking to each other. Otherwise, what is the difference between full staging and a staged concert? It would give more power to the moments the actors are breaking the fourth wall with the audience if they aren't looking straight at us the whole time.

In the same vein - and maybe because of the lack of connection with each other - the characters lean too far into the cartoonish IMO. I would have loved to see some of the human underneath. If we don't get that hint of real emotion, real thought process, then it is hard to find a reason to care about the characters. Too much of the performance was playing the text and not the subtext. 

There were some exceptions. Olivia Charalambous in the tiny role of Louise Lerman was a show stealer, and Stephanie Astrid Jones gave us great hints about the potential complexity of a life surprisingly lived.

Leslie as Judy Denmark was a bit annoying with that typical chipmunk voice so common in female roles in American musicals. When playing Ginger Delmarco, however, she settles into a wonderfully sophisticated performance. Dolly Diamond was everything you expect which is exactly what the role of Sylvia St Croix demands. Seeing Diamond in this role is enough reason on its own to see this production of Ruthless. I don't know when or if we will ever get to see her in a role this incredible again.

The musical direction (Dave Barcay and Ned Dixon) is clean and precise and, for the most part, the singing is powerful. I did wonder if the voices are starting to get tired though, with Leslie missing a couple of key high notes and both Leslie and Chloe Halley (Tina Denmark) sounding a bit screechy across the whole show. I recommend they stop pushing so hard and rely on the microphones a bit more to soften their tone and be kind to their vocal chords. 

I admit, Halley's portrayal of Tina annoyed me quite a bit too. It is hard to be an adult playing a child because it is too easy to fall into irritating and noisome. I know because I have made that mistake myself. No matter how bratty a real child is, they still have a sweet innocence and tenderness - when they want to - which is hard to emulate as an adult. Halley needs to find those genuine moments of sweetness and hope to really make Tina come alive. If she can find that in the character, this would allow her to also find some of that softness in her singing I was talking about a moment ago. She needs to channel a bit more of the younger Shirley Temple.

These grumbles are quite minor though, in a show jam-packed with fun and mirth, bright sets, and glorious costumes. Jason Bovaird's lighting keeps the pace and movement flowing without drowning the show with tricks. Just like the other design elements, he creates a panorama of light with just enough candy colour to give texture. Rhiannon Gilmore's sound system allows the theatre to fill with the sounds of the band and singers whilst maintaining perfect clarity. Not a word is lost in the singing. Not a beat of a drum drowns the piano. It is an impressive mix and I have been to a few commercial musicals which could learn a thing or two from Gilmore I reckon.

This production of Ruthless! The Musical is light and fun. It has a lusciously dark heart, some twists you won't see coming at all and some you will (which is part of the fun), and it is a visual spectacular.

4 Stars

DRY LAND: Theatre Review

WHAT: Dry Land
WHEN: 28 Feb - 9 Mar 2024
WHERE: TW Explosives Factory
WRITTEN BY: Ruby Rae Spiegel
DIRECTED BY: Olivia Staaf
DESIGNED BY: Abbey Stanway
LIGHTING BY: Tomas Gerasimidis
SOUND BY: Dion Spyropoulos
PERFORMED BY: Buzz Billman, Endrico Botha, Isabelle Duggan, Cassidy Dunn, and Luce Wirthensohn

Luce Wirthensohn and Cassidy Dunn - photo supplied

Dry Land is a confronting play about teenage sexuality and abortion. It is set in the fraught state of Florida. Written ten years ago by Ruby Rae Spiegel at a time when abortion was a protected right in that US state, it is even more topical in a post-Trump presidency era with the overturn of Roe vs Wade. Unfortunately you won't get any of this context in the production of Dry Land currently playing at The Explosives Factory. What you will see, though is a play about relationships and growth and a myriad of ways teenage girls learn about life, and pain, and problem solving.

Dry Land is a play original written as a two hander and centres around the relationship which develops between Amy (Luce Wirthensohn) and Ester (Cassidy Dunn). The two teenagers are on the same swim team. Amy used to be a cheerleader and Ester has recently transferred from another school where she was on the varsity swim team and is trying to get back on track to a University scholarship. Ester is trying to make friends. Amy is looking for someone not part of her world to help her with a serious problem. The play opens with Amy asking Ester to punch her in the stomach. Women watching this play will know exactly what is going on from the very first moment.

The set design (Abbey Stanway) is wonderfully conceived as a change room with lockers and benches and tiles. The blue is meant to tell us it is near water but it would have been even more helpful if the team had followed the writer's notes and had them both wearing bathing suits in that first scene. 

In fact, one of the most irritating thing for me in this production is the costume design and presentation of Amy. They have followed the writer's physical instructions to the letter but not the instructions on intention. Instead of Amy coming across as someone trying to look effortless, Wirthensohn's Amy comes across as someone who genuinely doesn't care. It is a surfy emo look which is miles away from the ex-cheerleader/super self conscious teenager she is supposed to be. It is the little things like doing something with the hair and getting rid of those god-awful Birkenstocks which would make all the difference. Then the character would make sense. Then, perhaps, Wirthensohn would also understand how anxious Amy really is.

Add to that the writer specifically says "the actress playing Amy should feel comfortable being exposed. If she is hidden or too covered [during the abortion scene], it will seem that the abortion is something that should not be seen. It is meant to be seen." The granny pants Wirthensohn wears for modesty totally destroys the writer's intention and is made even worse because she doesn't remove them and they appear under her bathers in a later scene. 

The reason for the exposure is represented by the location of the play which the director (Olivia Staaf) never overtly reveals and plays with, but is really important. The writer revealed in an interview that the nearest abortion clinic is 10 km away from that spot and even when the play was written and abortion was a protected right this clinic was continually bombed. Dry Land is about exposing what is underneath. Because the director never addresses any of this the scene about the Everglades makes no sense, but it is - again - important to the work. That scene is about modern America covering up what is natural and messy and difficult. 

It is rather absurd that the cast use an American accent (not the right one, but they give it a go) and the team have kept the brand names we aren't really familiar with for peanut butter and laundry detergent, etc, but the actual location of the play is never brought to the fore. It is this lack of dramaturgical understanding which gets me all riled up because the topic is so contemporary and important.

I really wanted to like Dry Land so much more than I did, but the direction and some of those key choices around Amy left me frustrated and disappointed. Some of the problems do rest with the playwright I will say. Dry Land is still a two hander play with appendages. As good as the cast are (and they are good) the three supporting roles never earn their place on stage or in the story and the story develops too slowly overall.

To finish on a positive note, I have to say that Dunn positively shone as Ester. Her journey was detailed, complicated and resolved to perfection.

2.5 Stars

CUDDLE: Dance Review

WHAT: Cuddle
WHEN: 20 - 25 February 2024
WHERE: Arts House (Main Hall)
CHOREOGRAPHY BY: Harrison Ritchie-Jones
COMPOSITION BY: Max Dowling and Nick Roder
LIGHTING BY: Ashley Buchanan
PERFORMED BY: Harrison Ritchie-Jones and Michaela Tancheff
VIDEOGRAPHY BY: Alex Walton

Harrison Ritchie-Jones and Michaela Tancheff - photo by Gregory Lorenzutti

cud·dle - VERB - to hold close in one's arms as a way of showing love or affection OR to lie or sit close OR to ingratiate oneself with - NOUN - a prolonged and affectionate hug.

The word cuddle is one of those curious words which sounds so innocent and so intimate and therefore it has a natural connotation which references love and affection. It sounds sweet. It sounds cute. It sounds loving. For the most part, this is true. But you can be in a cuddle without consent. You can be in a cuddle without love. You can be in a cuddle to lie and be cuddled as victim of a deceit. To cuddle is to be close to someone and cuddling is about only two people which makes it personal. A cuddle is two. Any more than that is a huddle. In the dance performance Cuddle now playing at Arts House Harrison Ritchie-Jones explores the intimacy of just two people being close together in various forms, digging below the assumptions to find some truths about the pas des deux of life.

Cuddle is a non-narrative exploration of a word which sounds and feels so innocuous and loving, and places us in a combat zone to investigate its connotations. Ritchie-Jones and dance partner Michaela Tancheff layer into the dialectic the sounds of squeaky toys embedded into the costumes so that every time they move (and squeak) we are taken back to a time when we played with a baby or perhaps our dog. Watching two wrestlers in a boxing ring style fight venue squeaking away sets up a cognitive dissonance which is disarming and alarming at the same time. One second, it's cute, next it is funny as a long fart sound emerges, and the next it is terrifying as the brain reads danger and harm for something we normally associate with vulnerability being in this dark dance of doom.

The external conceit of Cuddle is framed around the concept of fight as dance. Perhaps not so true in boxing, it is public knowledge now that those big televised wrestling franchises are fake and the fights are most definitely more of a dance duet than actual combat. A white dance floor swatch replicates the boundaries of a boxing ring, the lighting (Ashley Buchanan) is cold, white fluresence, and whilst there is some seating for the audience, there are also barriers for people to stand behind, as well as two large screens for closeups as it true for all mega sporting events these days. They even have a referee microphone hanging from the grid, ready to be pulled down for commentary.

Videography (Alex Walton) features strongly in this show, with various levels of efficacy. We are somewhat obsessed with screen images these days and Cuddle allows a lot of exploration of that dialectice between the presented (film) and the represented (live performance), and also the intimate (close ups) and the distant (mid and long shots). All of these concepts are legitimate conversations to have around the concept of cuddling. The videography is live and switches between long, mid and close up across the entire hour. The audience gets to decide how they view this coupling at each moment of the performance. 

For me, the video is at its most powerful on the extreme close ups. In those moments we get to see the kind of detail you can only see when you are locked deep in a cuddle with somebody. The detailed bulge of musculature, the minutest flick of a finger in partner grooming, the gleam of light reflecting on drops of sweat. Perhaps the main point of the longer shots is to remind us that to watch a cuddle from the outside is to have no understanding of the experience or relationship of the two people doing the cuddling?

The start of the show is intriguing as a concept but probably has little more than wow value. The stage space is empty but on the screen we see the two performers emerge from a car wearing balaclavas and carrying a boltcutter. They approach a fence and cut the chain whilst also suddenly being caught up in a hot and heavy pash session. We recognise the rear entrance to Arts House and they slowly work their way towards the foyer, never leaving this passionate embrace. Is this pre-record? It is intriguing and amusing and it sets the mood for the rest of the show. I think the audience loved how it resolved. 

Once in the space, the dancers square off and size each other up, circling warily and squeaking outrageously. They come together for short, sharp skirmishes as they test each other. The dance takes place in 'rounds' and at intervals the dancers stop sparring and sit at opposite sides, slowly doffing parts of their attire as the show progresses. Do not fear though, the composers (Nick Roder and Max Dowling) have not done anything as crass as including tedious referential sounds such as bells to end a bout. The entire sound design is sophisticated, powerful, and full of all of the complexities of the performance.

We often hear sword fights described as being a dance of death, and people talking about the beauty and grace of boxing, and the art of war. In Cuddle Ritchie-Jones places these conflicts directly within the paradigm of these art forms commentators and combatants often reference. The genius is he does it with humour as well as the brute strength of professional dancer bodies. At one point he asks Tancheff is she wants KFC or the Kitchen? As she ponders the question, and after we've had a bit of a chuckle, it takes us a while to understand the context. It brings to mind martial arts training and the use of AB forms to learn technique. If you have ever studied Tai Chi or Karate or Kung Fu you understand innately this linkage between dance and combat. When you see Cuddle you will know it regardless.

There is no narrative arc to Cuddle. It is pure investigation and exploration of the many ways we pair up as human beings, as dancers, as fighters. The choreography includes dance and fight moves from a multitude of genre including ballet, line dancing, boxing, clowning, and human coupling. The intimacy of partner grooming is contrasted by a full body flip and pin to the ground. They say all is fair in love and war. What they don't tell you is that it all takes place in a cuddle.

4.5 Stars

HOUSE OF THE HEART: Cabaret Review

What: House of the Heart
When: 15 Feb - 10 Mar 2024
Where: Museum of Chinese Australian History
Created by: Moira Finucane & Jackie Smith
Performed by: Paul Fabian Cordeiro, Zitao Deng, Moira Finucane, Kate Marie Foster, Dave Johnston, Sophie Koh, Rachel Lewindon, Lois Olney, Raksha Parsnani, and Xiao Xiao

Zitao Deng - photo by Jodi Hutchinson

I rarely review shows twice. Usually, I question whether there is anything new for me to talk about. House of the Heart is a different kind of show though. House of the Heart takes us on many journeys through storytelling and music and dance, and having seen the first iteration last year I couldn't resist seeing the show again. Whilst still being presented in the Museum of Chinese Australian History, how could I possibly resist sitting with these wonderful artists and hearing their stories again, learning even more about them, the world, and myself along the way?

The timing of House of the Heart is no coincidence. The Lunar New Year has just taken place and this year is the year of the Wood Dragon. Moira Finucane (co-creator/performer) is a Wood Dragon. This is her year! Finucane starts the show by taking the time to tell us about the processional dragons in the room. I was lucky enough to be sitting right across from the Millenial Dragon (Dai Loong) - the one we see at Moomba every year. Dai Loong's body is so long (he is the longest processional dragon in the world), he wraps around the floors of the museum all the way to the bottom, just as he wraps around our hearts every year in the parade, and just like he wraps around the audience in the Dragon Gallery.

Finucane's tale winds downstairs with Dai Loong to the authentic replica mining town on the lowest floor, only to remind us of that dreadful White Australia Policy we will never be able to live down. Finucane explores all of her amazing connections with China, Chinese arts, and the Chinese Museum. We learn of the connection to her family and how central her connections with this museum are to how she travels through her life. A bit later she will reveal her German-Jewish grandmother's flight from the Third Reich and suddenly all the pieces which underpin House of the Heart fall into place.

Across the evening, we hear beautiful and heartbreaking stories of families being torn from their homes for a multitude of reasons. Sophie Koh sings across English and Chinese (I'm not sure which dialect) as she introduces us to the first ever Chinese pop song - and it is good! It certainly got me bouncing around in my seat! We learn about her family's migration to Aotearoa (New Zealand). Paul Cordeiro tells us the heart-breaking story of the fate of his brother only months after the family migrated from Singapore to Perth. As he sings some verses of 'Moon Shadow' I realise I have never really listened to that song before. I should have. Zitao Deng sings in three languages about their search for peace and a complicated relationship with their homeland, Taiwan. 

Finucane is back to tell us about swifts as Xiao Xiao plays her glorious and mournful cello. I love the story of the swifts. This is one of my favourite moments in the show. Raksha Parsnani celebrates her freedom with a glorious belly dance, having been told in her youth she would never be a professional dancer. New to this show for me is Kate Foster who sings a ballad version of 'Tenterfield Saddler'. So gentle. So sad. So tender.

The jewel in the crown, though, is Lois Olney, accompanied by Dave Johnston. With a voice reminiscent of (but better than IMO) Natalia Cole, Olney sings 'Autumn Leaves' and 'It's A Wonderful World' to remember her mother and son, both now gone. Olney was a stolen child who grew up in Perth. It took far too long for her to find her story and return to her mother's lands in Roeburn. She was 3 years too late to meet her mother but stays connected with her community. She sings us the only song she knows in her mother's language. 

Last year I came away from House of the Heart with resounding echoes of gentleness and sorrow. This year it felt different. Is the difference time? Is it something in the storytellers? Is it me? This year I come away thinking about the rebellion of human migration. The refusal to give up and stay in one place when that place is not giving you what you need or want. A refusal to have our lives predetermined. Moving our bodies in time and space is an act of searching. Searching for love, searching for food and sustenance, searching for a safe haven. 

For most migrants and - in particular, refugees - can never go back to their ancestral home for a myriad of reasons. Even if they do, it is not the same. Part of the contract of the journey though is there are no guarantees you will find what you are looking for, and it is hard to forget what you give up and sometimes even harder to remember why you gave it up. Or as is the case with Olney, you have no choice about giving it up and must then go on a search to try and find it again. 

Regardless of the differences in details, all of these stories are about an irresistible requirement to change destiny, to go in search of what you need to live and love and learn. Everyone on stage in House of the Heart heeded those words of Dylan Thomas and they have not gone gently into that good night. Instead, they find themselves standing (or sitting) on a stage in a museum at the bottom of the world. They sing, they dance, they tell their stories. They remind us of our story and how we all find ourselves in that very same museum at the bottom of the world. At the end of the show, we leave the building and head out into the world in search of wherever we need to be to find our own love, our own life, our own learnings. It is, once more, our turn to choose.

4 Stars