St Jude’s Players. St Jude's Hall. 7 Aug 2015
The bar heaters glow aloft in the St Jude's Hall. The audience sits well rugged up. It's a cold winter's night in Adelaide.
Onstage, it is yet colder. It is winter in New England. Windows on the set show scenes of snow outside.
The characters of Rhode Island playwright Tom Griffin's play, Einstein and the Polar Bear, stomp in through the door complaining about and endlessly discussing the oppressions and beauties of the white winter weather. Indeed, introductory premise of the play is girl seeking help and shelter when car breaks down in a blizzard in an isolated and snow-besieged village.
What she finds is the most wonderful bookshop. Floor-to-ceiling books and then more books in substantial expanse - or so it becomes under the design of director Dave Simms. This is one stunning set. It was created by a backstage cast of thousands and its substance and beauty stand as dividend to their loving labour. Books are real and books are painted. With lighting, perhaps just a little too low, they enfold the eye in a gently claustrophobic spirit of fusty, antiquarian book obsession.
There's a desk or two, a couch and a big leather wing chair in which poor old Andy snoozes the days away in a mysterious stroke-affected otherworld. The one thing he remembers is meeting Einstein in a Rhode Island coffee shop when he was a young man in a blue suit. In snatches of consciousness, he reiterates this fragmented memory. It is thematic to the play.
It is his son Bill's bookshop. He's a famous writer who has become a recluse, no longer writing but occasionally selling rare books online. His human world now consists of dad, the affable local postman plus an ice-fishing local mechanic and his seemingly naive wife.
Then urbane Diane Ashe steps out of the blizzard and into the shop looking for help.
There follows an engaging dance of new acquaintance in which stories are exchanged and a certain chemistry is aroused. Offers of a place for her to sleep elsewhere are rejected. She stays with Bill.
The postman, the mechanic and the wife come and go knocking on the door, letting it stand open way longer than anyone in a real New England winter would permit and, indeed, wearing much lighter winter clothing than anyone in New England would countenance.
Dad is ever-present, if not in his chair, ringing a bell from another room. He is loved but endured by his son. It's a fatalistic interdependence. He understands more than he indicates. He obeys requests to make hot chocolate or change his clothes. Norm Caddick depicts this old man's twilight world and his periodic announcements about Einstein. It is one of those exquisite occasions in which a small role's significance is made large through performance. In this case, it is the actor's compassionate understanding, underplay and outreach beyond the fourth wall. It is a sublime performance which will long linger in the mind.
Allison Scharber gives fine balance to Diane, breezy and confident and yet somehow shadowy. One does not understand why until the denouement. Adam Tuominen has never given a bad performance. His voice and poise always find the mark of the character to hand. He is an interesting and moving Bill.
Andrew Horwood, on the other hand, gives a spirited characterisation of the mechanic Bobby, but seems way too old to be the reluctant rake of the script. Shelley Hampton flits sweetly as the child-like wife. And handsome Peter Davies, as the town busybody of a postman, sports an accent and inflection so original it takes a while for the audience to tune in.
It's here director Simms needs to make a change or two, bring the actor forward more often. He needs to puff up the costumes to convince that it is really New England out there. And he needs to bring the lighting up.
This is the Australian premiere of Einstein and the Polar Bear and yes, there is a polar bear.
It is not a great work of theatre but it is an interesting work. The characters are well-defined and complex. There are threads of symbolism and dashes of humour. It is well-rounded.
It niggles in the mind that it must have been inspired by J.D. Salinger who was, indeed, a famous writer recluse in that very neck of the woods, but there is no mention or reference in either the play or the programme notes.
Either way, this show is a decent way to find shelter on a cold Adelaide night.
Samela Harris
When: 7 to 15 Aug
Where: St Jude's Hall, Brighton
Bookings: trybooing.com
State Theatre Company. Dunstan Playhouse. 28 Jul 2015
Centred on three characters; Emma, a woman caught between a husband and a lover; Jerry, a successful writer’s agent, and Robert, Emma’s husband cuckolded by Jerry, Harold Pinter’s Betrayal is an enthralling piece of theatre which explores the emotional intricacies of three relatively mundane individuals.
Arguably one of Pinter’s most interesting plays, Betrayal employs reverse chronology as a fundamental device which puts the audience in the same ‘knowing’ position as the characters. With knowledge of what has come the audience can make estimations on what went before, making the trademark Pinter silences all the more powerful. The play is packed with layers of meaning and subtext that, as a result of this device, can be read by even the most unperceptive viewer.
Geoff Cobham (Design and Lighting) has set the production on a revolve which Geordie Brookman (Direction) uses to great effect. The circular stage is bounded by a rotating clothes rack which, on the surface, is used to facilitate lightening quick set and costume changes. However, as the play unfolds, the unconventional set represents so much more; like bare bones, the exposed wardrobe reflects what is unravelling on stage, a sequence of events normally closeted and hidden is played out in front of the audience. The dirty secrets of a long, incestuous love affair hang in the air like the clothes on their rack.
Jason Sweeney (Sound Design) subtly brings life to the otherwise bare settings with a cleverly employed soundscape that punctuates the silences. Startling scene changes have us jumping from our seats with their stark juxtaposition. Pinter’s play is not about locations, rather the interactions and emotions of his characters. The basic, yet visually appealing set and sound scape complement this.
It is the players that take this production to the next level, however. Pinter's characters are complex and flawed and Alison Bell, Nathan O’Keefe, Mark Saturno and John Maurice deliver considered and generous performances. The play’s limited dialogue is no foil for the actors who play the subtext brilliantly.
Saturno is the perfect sadist. Using his knowledge of Emma’s affair with Jerry (O’Keefe) he berates and belittles her with delicious scorn and absolute contempt. His vain attempt to console her after Jerry leaves on the promise of a squash game speaks volumes. Saturno wonderfully carries his character's repressed rage and viperous sarcasm, only very occasionally letting it get away from him. How they ever stayed together so long remains a mystery.
O’Keefe plays on Pinter’s menace whilst striking an interesting balance between salaciousness and insecurity. His Jerry is completely selfish, until he finally bares it all in a drunken expulsion of emotion and an outpouring of love.
Alison Bell is rarely given a chance to play Emma with any sense of joy. The joyous moments are just so and we relish in them, but hers is the performance that defines the title. Bell is the betrayed and the betrayer. Her Emma is heavy with guilt, manipulated by power and seeking love and affection.
Brookman’s Betrayal truly is ‘a ruthless exploration of the human heart’ and one that could cut close to the bone for some audience members. For fans of Pinter and newcomers alike this is a highly recommended production.
Paul Rodda
When: 24 Jul to 15 Aug
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: bass.net.au
Something on Saturday. Emma Knights Productions. The Banquet Room. 25 Jul 2015
The Festival Centre’s Something On Saturday programme is as popular as ever. This year Emma Knights has, along with Director Curtis Shipley, brought together a team of some of Adelaide’s finest improvisational actors to present a play made up on the spot with inspiration taken directly from the suggestions of the young audience.
At an hour long, one might expect the attention of the 2 to 10 year olds to wane by half way, but it is not the case. Like an episode of playschool, the actors keep the kids constantly engaged without being condescending.
Starring Curtis Shipley, Eden Trebilco, Kirsty Wigg, Jarrad Parker, Sam Griffin and with Emma Knights on the keyboard, the group are even brave enough to improvise musical numbers with adlibbed lyrics to a randomised tune.
Whilst improv purists might pick flaws and the occasional broken rule, the kids don’t care at all. For them the hour simply flies by. The conclusion of the show doesn’t hail the end of the fun, as the kids make their way to the foyer for more creativity in the form of cutting, colouring, arts and crafts.
It might not have the highest of production values, and audiences shouldn’t expect any strong take-away themes or learnings, but it is light hearted entertainment for the little ones. A pleasant way to spend an hour on a rainy weekend.
Paul Rodda
When: Closed
Where: The Banquet Room
Bookings: Closed
Bakehouse Theatre. Adapt Productions. 25 Jul 2015
It's good to have a dose of David Williamson from time to time, just to dip into the styles and mores of yesterday's Australia. So much has changed and yet so little.
The Perfectionist retains its currency by depicting a 70s academic couple in a highly competitive marriage. They are both obsessed with their PhDs and a delusional sense of the importance of it all. They also are being very progressive, experimenting with open marriage. The play begins in Denmark where the wife, Barbara, is hiring a male babysitter for the unseen children - a charming bleeding heart leftie called Erik. Husband Stuart, a smug and unimaginative man, has a good academic post and is endlessly engaged on a PhD in which he seeks unattainable perfection. After nine years and three sons, it is still not done. Barbara thinks it's time she had a turn to get hers done. And thus, as the couple returns to Australia, are the roles reversed.
In my memory, it's a fairly sharp and pithy play about some pretty awful people, a classic old Williamson streaked with ironic wit. This revival does not quite match up with the pace and edginess of remembered productions, though it may tighten up as the run progresses at the Bakehouse.
While Cheryl Douglas holds the mood and character of the play well as Barbara, ironically it is the director Ross Vosvotekas casting himself as the male lead which is the key problem. He is not the right actor for that role and his delivery comes across rather like a reading. He loosens only in final scenes. Chris Knight makes a fair fist of Erik with a very interesting accent while Kim York and Rick Mills work well as the long-suffering, flawed old parents.
Amanda Jane Bell clearly has had fun with the 70s costumes. Stuart's flares seem to have been arduously added to modern strides. Erik's wide trews are floppy long. Barbara and Shirley have some terrific floaty outfits and clearly everyone has tried hard.
The set is another story. It starts in 70s orange. Very orange. Barbara is wearing a matching orange gown as well. Oddly, when the family moves to Sydney, they have a dramatic decline in aesthetic taste. The paintings are screamingly atrocious in this broad living room set.
By accident or by design, Adapt has presented the audience with some interesting challenges to carry them through possible lacklustre moments. One is a hanging chess game played into a head-spinningly impossible position which one can't help but keep trying to solve. Another is wondering why Barbara appears to be reading the same book for about a year. Another is pondering why the parents take their champagne from dessert dishes. Yet another is contemplating why the academic's domestic roster looks as if it has been done by a 12-year-old.
These mysteries, along with a veritable hit parade of 70s music blasted out merrily amid the myriad scene changes, give the show another strand of entertainment value. And the play itself, of course.
The Perfectionist remains an interesting and engaging play which still, with issues such as open marriage and parenting, provides substance for a pleasantly provocative winter's night out.
Samela Harris
When: 24 Jul to 8 Aug
Where: Bakehouse Theatre
Bookings: bakehousetheatre.com
Leigh Warren Dance. Leigh Warren Dance Studio. 16 Jul 2015
Michel Fokine choreographed iconic Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova’s signature dance The Dying Swan on her in 1905, creating choreography filled with lithe melancholic romanticism, weighed in deep aching sadness. Pavlova’s quick, sharp pirouettes, graceful wing like arch of shoulders and arms, mournful bows and dips encapsulate a beautiful creature of nature in their dying throes.
Fokine’s inspiration finds choreographer Daniel Jaber and dancer Kialea-Nadine Williams profoundly transcending the boundaries of Fokine’s choreographic intent, realising a work as equally powerful and demanding of a dancer as Fokines’ A Dying Swan.
Jaber’s creation is uniquely original from the Russian modern classic. He redirects focus of the work choreographically from a swan like woman, to a woman like swan. Jaber and Williams remain true to the innate emotional thematic thread at the heart of Fokine’s creation, even as they completely redefine its subject.
They have transferred the agonising, inescapable slow grip of death upon a beautiful living creature of nature, to that of a woman closed off, caught in the inescapable clutch of loneliness, the barriers it throws up and inevitability of death.
What a remarkable blend of power, gentleness, enlightenment and pain is A Dying Swan. Jaber’s choreography is quite deliberate in its capacity to carefully draw out a sense of a woman both recognising and fighting barriers within her as much as around her.
Fantastically, Williams gives physical expression to the gentlest of moments holding as much raw, aggressive power as they do the softest of touches.
The swan in the woman we watch turning, pushing, running, falling in injury and clutching at mirages of solace sources an unbearable sense of private pain hard to watch.
Jaber’s blend of careful, hard edged contemporary form, delicately iced with classical references is as complex and masterful as is Jason Groves’ in the round white performance space and simple sharp lighting palette, enhancing the whole. Costumier Catherine Ziersch’s simple white dress completes the production’s emphasis on less is more.
Williams’ powers of expression are pushed, as Pavlova’s were, in an extreme test of artistic prowess. A test she surpasses so greatly, that as Fokine’s A Dying Swan was Pavlova’s signature dance of her core artistic genius and sensibility of her times, so is Jaber’s A Dying Swan Williams’ very own personal signature of her power.
David O’Brien
When: 10 to 18 July
Where: Leigh Warren Dance Studio 1st Floor Lion Arts Centre
Bookings: Sold Out