Elder Conservatorium Music Theatre. Scott Theatre. 27 Sep 2024
The Elder Conservatorium Music Theatre’s (ECMT) production of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s Jesus Christ Superstar is ninety non-stop minutes of high-energy and high-impact musical, choreographic, visual and vocal extravagance. ‘JC’ is now over fifty years old, and there aren’t too many people who haven’t seen a production of it or haven’t heard the soundtrack, and of course the story of the last seven days in the life of Jesus of Nazareth is very familiar.
However, every time JC is remounted there are new surprises in its look and feel. This production is no different in that regard. More on that later. Lloyd Webber’s music is timeless it seems, and Rice’s lyrics still have as much impact as they did when they were first sung. ECMT’s production has very strong production values and some fresh ways of presenting the story, and the audience’s enjoyment soars high on a wave that never seems to break!
No production, whether it is a student, community, or professional production, is ever perfect. That’s the stuff of live theatre, and this production isn’t faultless either. There are some opening night jitters with the occasional mis-pitched note and mis-timed entry, but they are barely noticeable, and they matter very little. This production is as good as any other that has been mounted in Adelaide in recent times. There is much to admire, and the vigour of ECMT’s production draws you in from the very start and doesn’t release you until it’s over, but even then, one’s visual and aural memory refuses to let it go completely!
Superbly directed by George Torbay AM, ECMT’s production has big moments that wow you. At the very start, the principal cast physically emerge one by one from the centre of a singing and dancing crowd, as if being born and announced to the world for the first time. We see Judas, Peter, other disciples, and finally Jesus who is greeted with unbridled ecstasy. It’s like a mosh pit, with pop stars being greeted by fans who have whipped themselves into an adoring frenzy. It's visually impressive, and the audience’s adrenalin is pumping.
Simon Greer’s set design comprises a three-tiered shiny scaffold, which the cast access quickly and efficiently via connecting stairs. It has a Roman Colosseum feel about it, which is exemplified with long hanging crimson banners emblazoned with the roman eagle and SPQR initials (which refers to the people and government of the Roman Republic). When the Sanhedrin take to the stage, they are dressed in militaristic styled uniforms that give them a totally menacing look. For a moment, it feels like we are in WWII fascist Italy, and when Caiaphas (played and sung superbly by Kaemon Wilcox) takes to the stage and sings the words “Ah, gentlemen, you know why we are here” in deep gravelly tones, the audience’s blood runs cold, and a shiver runs up and down our collective spine. Darcy Wain in the role of Annas adds ominously to the impact. Chris Snape’s bright, colourful, snappy and empathetic lighting design runs red – the symbolism and sense of foreboding is palpable.
The stage quickly empties of cast when needed and allows fluency from one scene to another. Pilate’s Dream introduces Pontius Pilate to the stage and Sascha Debney-Matiszik beautifully sings and acts the role with steely composure and style. Dressed in a long roman skirt, a strapped chest harness and laced sandals, with a large roman eagle emblem tattooed across his strong bare chest, Debney-Matiszik looks the part. He is impressive.
The Romans and the Sanhedrin are the only cast members (almost, there is a surprise later) to wear ‘character costumes’. Almost everyone else wears ‘civvies’. The costume plot works very well indeed.
The role of Judas is fundamentally important to the musical, and it must be sung strongly and acted with expressive passion. In Ben Jones, ECMT’s production is blessed with an imposing Judas. Jones is smaller in stature than Oliver John, who impressively plays Jesus, but he plays the role with such bravura that their force of personalities seem equal. Jones’ delivery of Damned for all Time is quite stunning. One senses that he truly understands the text he sings, which in fact is a feature across the entire cast.
Similarly, Alanna Iannace as Mary Magdalene also sings with acute understanding. Her touching performances of Everything’s Alright and especially I Don’t’ Know How To Love Him allow us to clearly see Christ’s humanity and frailty.
The staging of the scene where Judas is paid thirty pieces of silver by the Sanhedrin to betray Jesus is another highlight of the production. Instead of physical coinage, Judas places his hands in a small money chest and when he removes them, they are coated in an eery liquid which is almost fluoresce in the wonderful lighting. His hands are highlighted by piercing beams of light that persist for some time. The symbolism is obvious and palpable, and the impact is unsettling. Later, the staging of Judas’ death is also different. No spoiler, but it is staged in a way to suggest that it is as much an execution as it is a suicide, and again, the impact on the audience is intense. We ponder the fact that so many people are sacrificed as unwitting pawns in wider struggles over which they have little control. In these scenes, Ben Jones demonstrated his emerging yet impressive skills as a dramatic actor and singer. When not in the limelight, he’s still in the limelight – he continues to demand attention and his off-dialogue work (body language, facial expression, reactions, close attention etc) is just terrific.
The Last Supper scene is also staged in a memorable way. At one point, Christ and his apostles very quickly form a tableau that attempts to recreate the positioning in Da Vinci’s famous painting. A nice touch – a very brief injection of humour that doesn’t diminish the pathos one jot. Following the supper, Christ retreats to the Garden of Gethsemane, and Oliver John’s performance of Gethsemane is beautiful. He has a wonderful voice and manages the upper register with confidence, clarity and strength. His performance is almost understated, which gives a strong sense of Christ’s purpose and mission, yet fear.
Liam Dundon plays King Herod, and director Torbay and choreographers Zoe Kaomazec and Alexander Kermond have Dundon dressed in black tails replete with top hat and cane as he delivers a Fred Astaire inspired tap routine while singing King Herod’s Song. It’s fun, and the bevy of blond bombshells (as if straight out of an old Hollywood musical of yesteryear) cap off the irreverence. The strong cast of named characters is rounded out with a solid performance from Brendan Tomlins as Peter.
The staging of Christ’s scourging at the command of Pilate is also impressive. Again, no spoiler, but instead of a whip, Christ’s tormenters lash him with streams of bloody liquid. Oliver John as Christ does very well to convincingly play someone in extreme pain and distress while Pilate counts the lashes as the baying crowd cheers on. The crucifixion scene is equally affective, with Christ tied to a section of the scaffold set which is then carefully illuminated to create the illusion of the upright wooden beam and transom that form the traditional ‘cruciform’ structure. It’s lump-in-the-throat stuff.
Musically, the production is excellent, as one would expect from a production by the prestigious Elder Conservatorium. Musical director Paul Sinkinson’s ten-strong ensemble is on the ball from beginning to end. The show demands a big electronic sound, and this is delivered in spades by the keyboards. Brava! The score’s rhythms are unforgiving, and the drums and percussion clearly articulate and scaffold the score for the cast to perform against. Musically, this is one of the strongest outfits to be heard recently in Adelaide theatre.
The choreography is exciting, up tempo, and for the most part tightly synchronised to the spiky rhythms and varying tempi of the score. Did I say exciting?
The chorus is tuneful and well-rehearsed in ensemble work. To a person, their ability to faithfully execute song and dance with grace, precision, athleticism, diction and accuracy is a joy to watch and hear. At appropriate times, their smiles filled the already filled Scott Theatre. They are all double threats, if not triple! Kudos to ensemble vocal coach Rosanne Hosking.
The cast is large, and when they are all on stage in the big production numbers, there is scarcely an empty space. It’s a superb display of direction and stage management that it all works so well.
ECMT’s production of Jesus Christ Superstar has much to commend, and it is an absolute joy to see how the Elder Conservatorium is playing such a vital and important part in helping train Australia’s next generation of professional musical theatre performers.
ECMT’s next production is Alice By Heart to be presented in the Little Theatre on 10-13 October. It is a touching musical inspired by Alice’s madcap Adventures in Wonderland. If you have not yet seen Elder Conservatorium Music Theatre in operation, do yoursef a favour. Get along and see it.
Kym Clayton
When: 27 Sep
Where: Scott Theatre
Bookings: Closed
by Patrick White. Holden Street Theatres Inc. Holden Street Theatre Studio. 26 Sep 2024
When one leaves the theatre, Miss Docker comes too.
Miss Docker is one of theatre’s most complex and compelling anti-heroes.
She is arguably the greatest character in the greatest play by Australia’s Nobel Laureate writer, Patrick White.
And, while she was created out of the very Sydney-like, working-class culture of the 1950s in White’s fictitious Sarsaparilla, she’s a timeless personality - a suburban do-good monster. Perchance we all have met her ilk.
She also is a challenging stage role to be captured only by the finest of mid-life actresses.
Hence, the utter serendipity of having Martha Lott in this city.
We cannot celebrate her too much. We may dare to call her a “great” actress.
And, we have Peter Goers who seizes that greatness and casts her in those elite and memorable roles, among them, Tallulah Bankhead in Looped and Noel Coward’s Lady Gilpin. Now White’s Miss Docker.
And so it comes to pass that, laden with emotion and fermenting with thought, we audience members leave Holden Street yet again with the knowledge that we have experienced something exceptional.
This latest production of the uncommonly presented tragicomedy, A Cheery Soul, is a triumph. Five stars and then some.
And, on a shoestring budget, too.
Not that everyone can swiftly rave about it. It is not an easy play. It has more shades than its vivid walls of patchwork crochet granny rugs.
It opens as a nice local couple takes pity on Miss Docker and offers to take her in, only to realise that there is more to her than her facade of indefatigable good cheer. She’s a busybody who takes brazen liberties in the belief that it is always for the good of others. She’s the village clown, a status reflected in Lott’s quasi grotesque whiteface makeup. Her meddlesome nature eventually alienates her everywhere. Fellow inhabitants in an old-folks home shun her and, as for the hapless minister of the local church…
Martha Lott portrays not only the brash optimism but also, intensely poignantly, the so-carefully-suppressed vulnerability of Miss Docker. One's heart breaks for this despicable character. She’s ghastly and utterly compelling. It’s a tour de force performance.
Around her is a glorious cast. Catherine Campbell captures the essence of marital complacency as the well-intended Mrs Custance. Nuanced to a well-observed core, she's a symphony of smug suburbia. Brava. Robert Cuszena shows his seasoned stage skills in artfully complementing as her malleable spouse. Perched beneath a crochet rug on two chairs in a bedroom scene, they are the purest picture of a happy marriage.
While Sandi McMenamin brings the house down as the world-weary organist, she touches the heart as an old girl in the nursing home. David O’Brien makes a committed performance as a stroke victim and Amelia Lott-Watson has a delicious comic presence as the teenage Narelle. Christopher Cordeaux expressively adorns the stage as a useful extra as does dear Ron Hoenig.
David Arcidiaco is, oh, so winning as the self-doubting minister Mr Wakeman. There’s a lost soul in his eyes. While Jessica Corrie as the minister’s wife throws a cold balance of common sense into the dramas, it is Sue Wylie and Jo Coventry who brilliantly equip this Patrick White play with the essence of Patrick White. As residents of the old folks home, they perform as the chorus, their blended voices underscoring their, our, and Sarsaparilla's inner world. Their lines are a joy of pure White prose, prosaic and profound all at once. For, indeed, A Cheery Soul was not written as a piece of realistic theatre. It ventured into the absurd and the surreal, the symbolic and the banal.
Director Peter Goers shares his understanding of all of this in the detail and finesse embraced by this exceptional production. Patrick White would have cause to be proud.
Samela Harris
When: 26 Sep to 12 Oct
Where: Holden Street Theatres
Bookings: holdenstreettheatres.com
Disclaimer: Samela worked with Goers on his now lamentably lost Sunday radio arts show.
Theatre Republic. Space Theatre. 25 Sep 2024
When the girl was old enough to walk, she began to float, two or three inches above the ground, and then higher and higher until her head hit the ceiling and her mother had to buy an extra-extendable ladder just to bring her down. “You must keep it a secret,” the neighbours said, so the mother tied a piece of string from the girl’s hand to her own, and let down the bottom of every skirt, so no one could see the space between the shoes and the floor. One day, the mother forgot to lock the kitchen drawer, and the girl found a knife, a big knife, the best knife, for old bread and tough legs of ham, and she dragged it down her body, top to bottom, opening herself like a leather bag. She stepped out of her skin and kicked it away, where it hit the wall – splat! – and slithered to the ground. The mother tried to catch her daughter but there was nothing there to hold on to. “Look up, look up, look up,” the little girl said, and she flew around her mother, and did somersaults in the air, and walked along the clothesline, and made silly faces at the window, while the mother cried, and the skin turned to slush in her hands.
Anna
Anna is 18 years old and has officially reached the end of her childhood. This milestone is emotionally difficult for any child/adult, as it is for their parents and those who care for them. For Anna, the coming-of-age projects her headlong into a confusing, complex and ultimately painful outcome for all concerned.
Anna lives with a mental illness and has been medicated since the age of 11. At her coming of age, she discovers boxes of her journals in her mother’s wardrobe, written before her diagnosis. Struck by the remarkable stories she produced as a child, Anna tries to find her way back by going cold turkey on her medication. Is she still in there?
Kendall Feaver’s The Almighty Sometimes reaches a fist into the world of mental illness, twists and turns until it bleeds, patches it up, then makes it bleed again. Opening with the monologue ‘When the girl…’, written by an eight-year-old Anna, the opening scene finds Anna (Emily Liu) and Oliver (Simon Chandler) engaged in the age-old courtship ritual albeit in contemporary terms; I walked you home, now are we sleeping together? The intervention of Anna’s mother Renee (Tamara Lee) indicates their relationship – tight, and tightly held. Anna’s psychiatrist Vivienne (Anna Steen) is a wonderfully realised character, also holding firmly to her feelings, her professionalism, her private life and most importantly, to her decision to prescribe the cocktail of medications to a young Anna.
Anna’s exploration of life without drugs leads to an unravelling, and while the triangulated daughter, mother, psychiatrist relationship takes up the most space, the nascent romance between Anna and Oliver has its own echoes of agony and ecstasy.
Simon Chandler works his way into the character of Oliver with a charm that does not indicate what lies beneath, until the comedic gives way to the distraught. The trauma that Oliver feels, and his inability to continue is portrayed adroitly by Chandler.
Tamara Lee takes her time fleshing out Renee, but when she arrives, she is a force of nature as the mother with a surfeit of unconditional love and warrior strength. This is counterpointed by Anna Steen’s vaguely enigmatic portrayal of psychiatrist Vivienne, a study in restraint and poise.
It is Emily Liu as Anna who is riveting, appearing to traverse the incredible range of emotions effortlessly. With an illness that (cleverly) never reveals its name, she depicts a journey into mental illness, coupled with the confusion of the coming of age, with a sure hand.
Meg’s Wilson deceptively simple set is lit by Nic Mollison; between them they take us from kitchen to office to hospital with slight but skilfully effective shifts. Jason Sweeney’s soundscapes conveys us from scene to scene, mostly quite loudly, continuing to work in with the overarching simplicity that echoes the firm direction that Corey McMahon brings to this production.
This script is exceptional, and well deserving of the awards Kendall Feaver has garnered. This company has taken this absolute gift and presented it back to us in one of the more riveting productions of the year. A must see.
Arna Eyers-White
When: 25 to 28 Sep
Where: Space Theatre
Bookings: premier.ticketek.com.au
by David Williamson. State Theatre Company South Australia. Dunstan Playhouse. 24 Sep 2024
The slightest interest in taking a lifestyle cruise is utterly neutered when one sees David Williamson’s new play, The Puzzle.
What a tedious bunch of shallow and entitled losers our most celebrated playwright has created in the name of contemporary Australian comedy.
Yes. The play is diverting, a sort of boulevard comedy, if you will. There are a couple of ripper good lines.
But its premise is tawdry.
The theme has it that wife swapping can be fun. Or not.
In itself, wife swapping is old hat. Leaning back into the 1960s when it was all the go, newspaper classifieds abounded with ads for “broadminded couples” and ensuing suburban parties featured spinning bottles or keys in a jar. There used to be an organisation called Wife Swappers International. Well, if Williamson is right, this same demographic now spends a lot of money hanging up pineapple symbols to swap partners on speciality cruise ships. And the thrill of it all is hit or miss.
As is the play.
It is not possible to shock audiences with sex anymore. Even the multi-generational polyamorous sex as bragged by the play’s young “Unicorn” character barely raises an eyebrow.
Interestingly, Williamson sidesteps gender-neutral and non-binary issues in this new sexy romp. Even homosexual sex doesn’t get a look-in. It’s about horny squares, two married couples getting it off on a luxury lifestyle cruise. They’re professionals, heading for forty and lacking only a surfeit of orgasms in their successful lives. There’s some interesting current-affairs banter over pre-swap margaritas in the bar and there are several arguments about the value of cerebral fulfilment versus libidinous gratification - the good old Williamson bourgeois interactions we’ve come to know and love. So, there’s a bit of meat on the bone of the great man's new, maybe last play.
But, if one’s looking for meat, this production has pure, glorious, unadulterated beefcake in the form of Chris Asimos as Brian. Not only is he impeccably ripped but also, he is a talented and, in this case, a deliciously comic South Australian actor. He’s outstanding in an outstandingly good professional cast. Anna Lindner partners him as luscious, libidinous Michelle. She’s pin-up gorgeous and she’s equipped with exquisite reactive stage skills. Beloved Nathan O’Keefe is the weedy but needy one among these erotic blooms, an odd podcast-loving catalyst to the play’s dramatic machinations. Partnering him is voluptuous Ansuya Nathan who delivers the ultimate cultural feel-good in torrents of erudition straight from the heart. The wise wife. It’s a strong, committed performance.
Ahunim Abebe, sylph-like with a glory of long, black braids, plays Cassie, the figure of utterly-not-innocent youth. Her character flies blithely on the zeitgeist of modern multi-love which comes as a bit of a surprise to her dear old dad, Drew. Erik Thomson artfully eats that stage persona for dinner in an adorable performance. The audience falls in love with him. He is our everyman in that weird salacious eyrie, and, in a rather heavy-handed but ultimately aesthetic titular metaphor, he’s diligently engaged on a jigsaw.
The production values are, as ever with State, exemplary. Shannon Rush’s direction creates a zippy pace with characters flitting across the set almost credibly as on a cruise ship. And it’s that gifted stage designer Ailsa Paterson who creates the ship in a vast spread of an oceanic texture backdrop behind two cabins, a bar, a lounge , a sun deck and, heaven help us, a tropical balcony on the side. With Mark Shelton’s perceptive lighting, it is an extremely pleasing world to behold. Andrew Howard’s sound adds some boppy scene changes with Mark Oakley popping up helpful timelines such as “previous day” and “morning after” on the stateroom cabin’s big screen.
The Puzzle is all a bit of a frisky caper on a tired old theme. Williamson has enabled the plot to be not too predictable. And, while the play evokes a few guffaws, ’tis the titillating stuff of general titters.
Samela Harris
Note: One does not usually describe actors’ bodies in contemporary theatre criticism but in the case of a play about sexy players, one may make an exception.
When: 24 Sep to 12 Oct
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: statetheatrecompany.com.au
Pelican Productions. Arts Theatre. 21 Sep 2024
They’ve done it again. The Arts Theatre stage literally swarms with a wealth of beautifully disciplined and upliftingly talented young performers. Talk about a peep hole into the future of the Australian stage. The joy of Jen Frith and Kylie Green's Pelican Productions is the way it rallies and trains school after school of thrilling young emerging talent in Adelaide.
This critic has yet to see them put on a bad show.
Nor to see greater groups of youngies working better or harder together.
Choreographer Carla Papa and musical director Ben Francis have a lot to do with that.
The company has been presenting two simultaneous productions at The Arts this time around. Heathers the Musical (already bestowed a very positive review on this grand old arts site by colleague Arna Eyres-White) and Disney’s Newsies Jr.
Newsies Jr. features the old American Broadway finesse of Alen Menken’s music with Jack Feldman’s lyrics from Harvey Fierstein’s book, all based on the Disney Film which, in turn, is based on fact.
Not only is it a bumper stage show but it also depicts a precious piece of history, an early era, pre-electronic media, when print reigned supreme as primary sources of information and influence and when newspaper circulation featured sales on the city streets - newspapers hot off the presses being sold by (predominantly) teenage boys. There once were newsboys shouting out the headlines and selling papers for coins on almost every street corner in Adelaide.
Newsies Jr. is set in New York City in 1899 when Joseph Pulitzer was the ruthless editor of the sensationalist World newspaper and Teddy Roosevelt was Governor of New York. Newsies is particularly pertinent right now since it was a highly political and Democrat-leaning publication and it targeted corruption. Not that Newsies makes Pulitzer into a hero. His arbitrary raising of the price of the paper and compromising the meagre profit line of its street sellers is core to the story.
Led by Jack Kelly, the battler kids take on media moguls by striking for fair pay. Hence, the musical is about political activism and the power of the people, nicely intertwined with greed, rivalry, discrimination, and emancipation.
This latter is embodied by a pioneer female journalist in quest of the scoop, this role is performed by Amelia Boys who is among those outstanding with names to be watched. Hers is not only an eloquent characterisation with impressive keystrokes on a vintage typewriter but a powerful voice with a particularly lovely timbre.
While Reo Gerhardy carries the lead role of newsboy Jack Kelly with heaps of chutzpah and Will Fleming charms in fine voice as Crutchie, the eye is constantly drawn to one of the dance ensemble, not only because of his height but the fact that Francis Osei-Tutu is an outstanding dancer - another name for which to watch. Noah Byrne and Casey Mifsud also are notable along with Mia Khairul hamming it up a treat as the kid.
Production values are high, as ever, in these big-cast shows. Lighting is on the ball, costumes thorough, and sound well balanced. It’s a professional production by and for promising amateurs. Bravo once again, Pelican.
Samela Harris
When: Closed
Where: Arts Theatre
Bookings: Closed