State Opera Of South Australia. Her Majesty’s Theatre. 25 Oct 2017
David Lampard’s Die Fledermaus has much to commend itself, so why isn’t it a winner? More on that later.
With a sparkling Viennese score by Johan Strauss II, Die Fledermaus is essentially a tongue-in-cheek moral story about the downside of hedonism. Without attempting to pen an all-too-brief summary of the story, let it suffice to say that the plot revolves around the infidelities of Eisenstein and his wife Rosalinde who unbeknown to each other are attending the same party, each in disguise of sorts. The twist is that Eisenstein tries to pick up his own wife! While that hilarious situation unfolds, others too are trying their luck in the illicit love stakes, most notably prison governor Frank who tries it on with Rosalinde’s maid Adele. The action concludes in the prison, where penances are doled out and everyone is suitably chastened.
Lampard not only directs the production, he has also designed it (set and costumes) and choreographed it. His talent almost knows no bounds, but on this occasion, he let his enthusiasm a little too much off the leash: the production is at times unbalanced and at other times tiresome because of excessive (mis)use of farce.
Lampard chooses to set the action in Beverly Hills, and he substantially updates the dialogue to capitalise on the excesses and glam of the LA social elite. It works a treat, and provides frequent giggles and guffaws from the enthusiastic audience. There are sufficient references to the parlous state of American politics to give the show some satirical currency. Lamapard’s scenic and costume design reaches its zenith in the ‘Orlovsky’ Act II, which is greatly enhanced by Nathan Luscombe’s classy lighting design. The choreography is fun, and confidently executed – well done movement coach Daniela Taddeo - but its novel ideas never really reached their full potential. The opening prelude to Act I is a case in point. The parade of comic book superhero’s, who are collectively dressed in the colours of the rainbow and may subliminally reference a certain national plebiscite, is fun but it could have been so much more. Strauss’s waltz rhythms scream for more exuberant and (perhaps) more sympathetic choreography.
The singing principals for the most part handle the score confidently, and their acting skills are a delight. Adam Goodburn is superb as Eisenstein, as is Rosanne Hosking as Prince Orlovsky. Lampard’s reference to Conchita Wurst in Hosking’s costume and stage movement is a highlight. Desiree Frahn is a delight as Rosalinda, and she provides the glue that holds Act I together. Andrew Turner plays fabulously comic dual roles as Dr Blind and Falk, and Karina Jay and Sara-Jane Pattichis as Ida and Adele appropriately pull the focus to themselves with their controlled antics.
The State Opera Chorus is in fine voice and Lampard ensures they value-add with numerous points of interest in every crowd scene. The Adelaide Art Orchestra is conducted by Nicholas Brathwaite, and they conquer the score. The singers are never overpowered, but paradoxically the orchestra itself seemed under-powered at times – for example, the Act I overture really needs extra strings.
So why, with so many positive production elements, wasn’t the show a winner? Quite simply, it doesn’t start off “with a bang”, and Act III includes a fifteen-minute sequence of attempted farcical dialogue and mime that is so laboriously executed that it is akin to an enormous sea-anchor being thrown out that almost scuttles the whole production. It really is a shame. Despite his obvious talent, Rod Schultz struggles to keep the momentum up in what really is an over-written section of the text.
This reviewer’s misgivings aside, Die Fledermaus give the punters a fun night out but probably doesn’t delight the purists.
Kym Clayton
When: 24 & 25 Oct
Where: Her Majesty’s Theatre
Bookings: Closed
State Theatre Company of SA. Dunstan Playhouse. 24 Oct 217
She’s a gruff and antisocial old girl living in self-imposed exile in Switzerland where her literary reputation is more feted than it is in her American homeland. She breeds snails and cats as her preferred company.
She is none too pleased when an ambitious underling pilgrimages from her New York publishing house to appeal to the great Patricia Highsmith for just one more story about her best-selling character Tom Ripley. In torrents of expletives, she orders him to leave. But, while he may seem the humble supplicant with his bespectacled, tousled haired appearance, now his foot is in the door he vows not to leave until she signs a commitment.
Here, playwright Joanna Murray-Smith applies some of the tried and true Man Who Comes to Dinner formula and an unsteady balance of power emerges between the famous old author and the young man on a mission. She interrogates him and quickly draws out his unhappy past and he discovers her obsession with weapons and death and myriad ugly prejudices. No one ever said Patricia Highsmith was a nice person. Murray-Smith does not whitewash her.
She is at the end of her life. She is sick. The bed is made but she is not in it yet, she says.
Young Edward inveigles himself as a key to unlocking more Ripley and, indeed, becomes more Ripley. As the 90 minutes of waspish and bitter dialogue evolves, the interpersonal dynamics take on a sinister quality. By now, the playwright has abandoned biographical authenticity and leapt wildly into her own Ripleyesque scenario.
Sandy Gore is a wonderful piece of casting as the embittered and alcoholic literary giant. It is an authoritative and memorable performance. And, her voice, even when the lines are venomous and hostile, is a mellow pleasure on the ear.
Indeed, it is a very wordy play - dense wordiness now hallmark to Murray-Smith works.
The two actors parry neatly, their timing well-honed by director Nescha Jelk.
While Highsmith may give ground to her insistent young visitor, his is the character which must evolve in the most subtle and then emphatic way, so much so that from New York accent, he segues to the sleek well-bred tones of a Bostonian. All this is impeccably delivered by Matt Crook in a simply sublime performance.
Although the play itself challenges the credulity, the set is so expertly wrought that one could simply move in and live there. Alisa Paterson has covered every inch of the expansive stage in a comfortable open-plan living area. Couches and arm chairs sit before a huge stone fireplace which is flanked on one side by the writer’s working area and on the other by dining room table and doors to the rest of the house. The back wall, with a row of small high windows, showcases artworks above extremely long, low bookcases. The intelligentsia chic of it all sings the Frank Lloyd-Wright fashion of multifunction living space and Nigel Levings underscores this eloquently with a very artful lighting for, at its richest showing the changing hues of daylight through the high windows. When cold evening draws in and the fire is light, the scent of wood smoke gently wafts into the auditorium. It is a nice sensurround touch.
Jason Sweeney has added to the theatricality of the work with a soundscape which throws the odd startling thread of mood and wild crescendo into a world of endless talk.
In all, this is a fabulous State Theatre production.
Samela Harris
When: 24 Oct to 5 Nov
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: bass.net.au
Tutti Arts and Company AT. Queen’s Theatre. 20 Oct 2017
She is ‘Nameless’; unnamed for the difficult child who does not seem to fit in and worse, ahead of the kids in her class by a long shot she knows more about Einstein and Isaac Newton than a kid her age probably should. What are her parents, teachers and class mates to do with her? How to deal with her and her antisocial behaviour at home and school?
Welcome to the world of a child on the autism spectrum from Company AT (Autism Theatre) in a production cast with actors on the spectrum and in collaboration with other artists with a disability from Tutti Arts.
Director Julian Jaensch’s production fairly rips along at a clipping pace. Lighting Designer Nic Mollison and Sound Designer Sascha Budimski ensure Impersonal Space whips from fabulous scene introductions using multiple cast members straight into the matter of the moment and onwards.
Emily Steel’s script created in collaboration with the cast is rich in frustrating moments across the board; ‘nameless’ only wants pizza for dinner, can’t handle an over-crowded class room, or understand why her classmates treat her as they do. Her parents are at their wits end.
Naming this highly intelligent girl’s ‘skewed’ reality and realising how to manage the unique gifts of one on the autism spectrum is at the core of this hugely entertaining, thought provoking and richly rewarding theatrical experience, three years in the making by those on the spectrum.
A focus on comedy with a very light garnish of music theatre is the essence to the production’s success, handled superbly by Kaila Pole as Nameless, Michael Need as Newton and Mikhael Crossfield as Einstein, and beautifully built upon by the entire ensemble.
Impersonal Space is filled with life, liveliness and wonder, gifted by the serious smarties of our world who need a bit of extra attention and understanding so they can unleash the magic in them, a magic universal to us all.
David O’Brien
When: 19 to 28 Oct
Where: Queen’s Theatre
Bookings: trybooking.com
The Metropolitan Musical Theatre Company of SA Inc. The Arts Theatre. 12 Oct 2017
Blend the solid production standards of The Met with an evergreen lots-of-fun musical and you have a winning night of exuberant delight.
For the new generation, Bye Bye Birdie explains the source of a string of familiar popular songs - A Lot of Livin to Do, Kids, Put on a Happy Face, How Lovely to be a Woman… And it brings to life the rockin’ 50s with its full skirts and Elvis mania.
Birdie is based on the phenomenon of super-star Elvis Presley being drafted into the army in 1959. It’s the rock icon's grand farewell as conceived by his hapless manager, Albert Peterson. The idea is that an ardent teen fan is to be chosen as recipient of the singer’s last kiss. The whole show, from Michael Stewart’s book with lyrics by Lee Adams to Charles Strouse’s music, is a good-natured spoof and a send-up of teen hysteria; what turns it on and what oldies make of it. It is also a comic love story of a would-be English teacher and oppressed mother’s boy finding himself out of his depth as nothing goes to plan. That these ingredients are well wrought is the secret to the enduring popularity of the show - and, perchance, the show’s creators would be well pleased with The Met’s presentation.
It’s not Broadway but director Gordon Combes has delivered a production which is slick and clean and tight. Carmel Vistoli’s choreography is simple and good, the ensemble work is tight, the harmonies terrific, the costumes bright, the stage design sharp, the lighting spot-on, Paul Sinkinson’s orchestra is sweet on the ear and the timing and the spirit of the show is energetic, hammy and effervescent. If one had to insist on finding flaws, one may have found a couple of slow scene cues on opening night - but hardly worth noticing.
The principals all hold their own and hit the right notes. Giulia-Giorgina Condoluci is ardent, avid and athletic as Kim, the number one fan, with Russell Ford very strong as her long suffering father, doing vocal justice to Ed Sullivan and Kids, and sweetly supported by Di Mason as the wife and Harry Ince as the kid brother. Matthew Pugsley slicks his hair and struts his stuff in sly Elvis style as Conrad Birdie and when he opens his mouth and sings his main songs, Honestly Sincere and One Last Kiss, he turns on his true star quality.
Celeste Barone works relentlessly hard in her huge and demanding role as Rosie, Peterson’s devoted assistant and wannabe wife. With a voice stronger than melodic but with masses of chutzpa and lots of pizazz in her dance, it’s a winning performance. Jenny Bowen, rugged up in scruffy furs as Peterson’s overbearing mother, has all the best lines and martyr-mother gags and gets the best laughs of the night.
But the night belongs to her nerve-racked boy, Albert Peterson. His is a huge song and dance role with endless reactive comic shtick. It carries the show. And Paul Rodda, always a delight to watch in dance, hits all the right notes in the score and, from fool to misty-eyed romantic, he delivers the showbiz goods in his best performance to date.
Samela Harris
When: 12 to 21 Oct
Where: The Arts Theatre
Bookings: metmusicals.com.au
WRITERS NOTE: While I work with Paul Rodda as a senior critic on this website, my ethic is “no fear or favour”. Had Rodda’s performance been less than excellent, I would have said so or excluded his name from the review.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Paul Rodda who plays the role of Albert Peterson in this production is the Editor and Creative Director of the Barefoot Review.
Windmill Theatre Company. The Space. Adelaide Festival Centre. 11 Oct 2017
He’s back - and not a moment too soon.
The Big Bad Wolf is one of wonderful Windmill’s most interesting and endearing characters and his show returns in perfect time to surprise a new brood of children.
He might be big but as writer Matthew Whittet has created him, this bad wolf is a twisted fairy tale character who is utterly vulnerable. His big bad canine teeth have given him a speech impediment and no, frightened white bunny darting behind that tree, he does not to eat rabbit. He’s a “vegemetarian”. Not only but also, he’s a poet and terrible a disappointment to his ferocious wolf mother.
So he lives alone. All he wants is a friend.
Heidi Hood wants one, too. She’s a tiny woman, dressed in Red Riding Hood red and she lives in a meltingly cute doll’s house cottage in the woods, little dormer bedroom upstairs and fussy, homely downstairs dominated by her talking armchair. She’s nervous so the house is equipped with wolf alarms.
If Patrick Graham is adorable as the marginalised wolf, twinkle-toed Emma J. Hawkins is utterly sublime as Heidi. Her light-footed athleticism is a beauty to behold. The children are bewitched.
Heidi is as accomplished as she is lonely and if she wins just one more award, a planet will be named after her. A poetry competition is announced but the dancing champion is not so good with rhyme. Until she meets Wolfie.
And thus unfolds a tale of friendships against type, of words and love and loyalty.
Matilda Bailey completes the cast and weaves the story together playing the narrator, Grandmaster Wolf, Wolfie’s first friend, the Flea from Cincinnati, Heidi's talking couch, and a TV reporter. She pops out in assorted costumes from Jonathon Oxlade’s terrific woodland set. Wolfie’s towering talking tree is standout, literally.
This gem of a revival, directed by Rosemary Myers, has a short season at The Space and should not be missed.
Samela Harris
When: 11 to 21 Oct
Where: The Space
Bookings: bass.net.au