Adelaide Fringe. Migration Museum. 2 Mar 2014.
It's not light entertainment, this little production from Brisbane. It is very serious and sad. It is profoundly well-intended and well-researched.
It is about post-traumatic stress disorder and the way in which it was perceived in the past. The play is set in Egypt and centres around a soldier with shell-shock and the nurse taking care of him during World War One. Private Dylan Moxley can't get past the horror of the gruesome death of his close mate in explosive combat. Small triggers set off nightmare visions and flashbacks.
Nurse Nellie Morrice patiently tends to him and tries to keep him connected to the here and now. She is not optimistic about his prognosis but keeps up the professional front. From time to time he has dream visitations from his young wife in Australia. It is Christmas, his second away from his wife. There are letters, the most precious treasures. And a lock of her hair.
But he is very damaged. There are moments when it seems he is finding a functional norm but it only takes the chance for his mind to wander and he is back in the horrors. There are no real treatments for him, just recognition of the condition. He pulls himself out of the shuddering nightmares by sticking his head into a bucket of cold water.
The play, written by Craig Wood and James Trigg, is only an hour long, but it feels longer. It is torturous. It keeps inflicting poor Dylan's world upon one and it becomes one's own hopeless world.
It is made interesting and endurable only because of the high quality of the acting. Peter Norton and Sasha Dyer are skilled and focused performers and, in the quaint little space at the Migration Museum, performing in the round with just a chair, white sheets on a camp bed and a few tin buckets, they hold the mood and tension of the work and draw the audience into their world.
It noted that this play, directed by John Boyce, also pays tribute to the sacrifice and expertise of the nurses who served through World War One. The Red Cross was created after the outbreak of that war and this year celebrates its centenary. In acknowledgment, the production company, which has the very odd name of ‘One of a Pair and 3d Room Theatrical’, is giving a dollar from every ticket sale to the Red Cross.
Samela Harris
When: 3 to 8 Mar
Where: Migration Museum
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
Adelaide Fringe. Laughing Stock Productions. Garden of Unearthly Delights – Paradiso Spiegeltent. 1 Mar 2014
Chris Taylor and Andrew Hansen of ‘The Chaser’ fame have taken to the stage in their favourite old town… um… Adelaide? (in-joke) with a new live showcase.
In true ‘Chaser’ style, this live show takes its content from real life and then parodies it. With a good mix of themed stand up and song, the pair have great control of the room and really keep the pace of the show hopping along.
Crammed like sardines into the Paradiso Spiegeltent, the audience still loves every minute of the 1 hour show. Familiarity with the pair certainly works in their favour, as their own unique brand of humour cuts through the act.
There is a handy instructional section on how to be the most annoying person on Facebook, a song for every outraged old person to relate to, and some onstage romance between a pair of (recently un-closeted) cops, whose love for each other and the law – or “laws” – becomes a source of conflict.
Naturally nothing is safe – not even Rolf Harris – but rest assured the boys could still be clearly heard over the whirring sounds of the Clipsal 500, which seemed to be located just outside the tent!
Their run is a short one, but one well worth catching – so if you miss it this time, well to quote the publicity, “An unforgettable evening of songs and laughter is guaranteed, in a different theatre nearby…” so don’t sweat it!
Paul Rodda
When: Closed
Where: Garden of Unearthly Delights – Paradiso Spiegeltent
Bookings: Closed
Adelaie Fringe. A-List Entertainment. Royalty Theatre. 2 Mar 2014
Waiting outside the Royalty Theatre one could sense a palpable air of excitement... and thatʼs just from the adults that the children had brought along with them. The reason? David Collins (half of the duo, The Umbilical Brothers). The children might not have realised what they were in for, but their parents certainly would have.
The anticipation continued once inside the vast old worldly auditorium with its red velvet curtains and faded opulence. How would The Luck Child, a one man show, go down at 10am on a Sunday morning?
Very well indeed, going by the continuos giggles from the 4 to 10 year old target audience and the laughs from the adults. Collins maintained connection with his wide age ranging audience through most of the 45 minute show apart from a couple of lapses, but as he quipped during the bows at the end: Who gets up at 10am on a Sunday morning? And the storyline? Surprisingly complex for a childrenʼs show, but made very accessible by Collinʼs skill as a mime artist, beat boxer, physical and vocal gymnast.
Set in medieval times far far away... or nearer depending on your mode of travel. Very close if you are using a flying dragon. The good wizard divines that the evil king will search out and kill the seventh born of the seventh child now grown into a man with six children and a very pregnant wife. The wizard sets out to find the child (as does the king). Mix in a mysterious river boatman, a large monkey and an impoverished travelling circus owner, and you get the makings of a cleaver vehicle for Collinʼs suburb range of physical and vocal skills.
The set? What looked like a collection of grey cardboard boxes stuck together forming a sort of mini wall. As the show opened up, so did the set. It morphed into a castle, a cave, a door and courtyard, and a few other things besides. Skilfully used by Collins to support the storyʼs journey. Simple but effective lighting and just a small dollop of pre-recorded sound which never detracted from Collinʼs performance presence.
Even the bows were fun, as all of Collinʼs characters (and there were many), took their bows - including the three headed dog. At the end of the bows, Collins explainied to the children in the audience that this is what live theatre was all about and that he would be available in the foyer to be photographed by them; to be in photographs with them... whatever.
A generous performer. An old fashioned story telling experience by an artist with singular vocal, physical, mime skills that appealed to a very young audience and to the inner child in the adults accompanying them.
Martin Christmas
When: 7 to 16 Mar
Where: Royalty Theatre
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
Adelaide Festival. SKaGeN. Queen's Theatre. 27 Feb 2014
I’ve browsed through those books and have seen some footage of the great speeches (no, I don’t have a rare movie of Aristotle’s’ reply at the trial for his life, or Pericles’ grievance speech to the war widows and mothers, but you know what I mean). Belgian theatre artist Valentijn Dhaenens’ interest in this was a lot more ardent. After reading over 1000 speeches, he has collated some stirring stuff into this one-man tour de force.
The set comprises an array of microphones and a sort of chalkboard written with the great speakers and the year of their words that we will be treated to. Dhaenens, of slight build and in a smart grey-green suit, physically swells and builds into each historical figure in a stunning transformation. The vocal characterisations are absolutely incredible and there is a palpable sense of being in the presence of power and confidence.
Without narration, the audience is obliged to connect the dots. Herr Goebbels is dovetailed with General George Patton in a call to arms. The abdication of Belgian King Boudewijn in his moral protest against a pro-abortion bill is followed by Congo President’s Lumumba’s Independence Day speech, gloating over the liberation victory of arms against the Belgian colonists. There is a cacophonic medley of 1960s great Americans, principally about race. That was introduced by an amazing vocal mimicry of Hendrix-style guitar feedback.
Indeed, the speeches are frequently separated by live sampled self-harmonies further illustrating the power of voice and contextualizing the times. The cool, icy voice of Osama Bin Laden, five years before 9/11, made you contemplate the American hegemony.
Bravo! This is a don’t miss show. Nearly getting a standing ovation on opening night, I was hoping he would do an encore of Churchill or Hitler, but that was not to be. The hour-twenty went by in a flash.
David Grybowski
When: 28 Feb to Mar 3
Where: Queen’s Theatre
Bookings: adeladiedefestival.com.au
Adelaide Festival. Festival Theatre. 28 Feb 2014.
Where did those six hours go?
They flew by - but not before they were imprinted into rich Festival memory to be filed away among unforgettables such as Peter Brook's Mahabharata, Robert LePage's Seven Streams of the River Ota and Pina Bausch's Tanztheater Wuppertal.
This is one of those special experiences that festivals are all about.
Roman Tragedies is a trilogy of Shakespeare plays, set in a contemporary newsroom and performed in Dutch. It incorporates an audience invited to sit onstage eating and drinking wine amid the action and keeping abreast of the dialogue through surtitles on countless monitors and projections. And Tweeting!
Audience members were incredulous when not only told to leave their phones turned on but given the hashtag #romantragedies to Tweet up the play. After all, it's hard to give a spoiler to Shakespeare's plots, but it is good to spread the word. Clearly Toneelgroep Amsterdam and their director Ivo Van Hove are confident about positive responses to the show. Hence, texting and selfies went rampant and people Tweeted each other as well as the play.
Video cameras add to the multimedia, delivering the action not only as from a newsroom with anchors at desks but also as a form of reality TV. Politicians are interviewed on camera. From time to time news tickers streak across the screens to add countdowns and current headlines to the information overload. A couple of monitors play local items such as the Clipsal car race.
‘Coriolanus’, ‘Julius Caesar’ and ‘Antony and Cleopatra’, which make up the ‘Roman Tragedies’, have become about men in suits. The centuries melt away to expose a commonality of power play. It's fierce and familiar politics. There is tub-thumping and backroom deals, corporate ruthlessness and raw political ambition.
There are wars, of course, and these are represented by the beating of drums and cymbals so huge and cataclysmically loud that the whole theatre vibrates.
The audience is invited to move around, particularly at scene changes. On stage there are couches and also bars where wine, food and coffee may be purchased. My Tuna Nicoise salad was superb but, to the distress of many, the savoury food supply did not match the audience demand on opening night. They had to survive on fruit salads and muffins or go into the foyer for chips and chocolates. They may have grizzled, but they did not leave the theatre. The production had cast its thrall.
The six-hour phenomenon also had generated a sense of fellowship - an audience on a long journey together.
Working in and around their audience, the actors keep their focus on the character and play. They are present but apart, existing in their own bubbles of disciplined concentration.
And what splendid actors they are. One after another outstanding performance emerges. When Hans Kesting as Mark Antony gave his honorable men lament after the death of Julius Caesar, the audience wept with him and sprang to spontaneous applause as he finished.
It is one of many potent moments. The death scenes are epic. Love scenes are passionate. Cleopatra screams like a gutted banshee. Enobarbus runs right out of the theatre, followed by the camera. In a desperation of screaming, wailing he appeals to the passing Adelaide public who may long be wondering about the mad Dutchman in the street.
When the action is less intense, the audience may indulge in distractions. The actors' dressing room is right there on the OP side of the stage - a row of mirrors, a lot of makeup and some dressers. And the actors are moving about, ready for the next entrance, or perhaps grabbing a discreet bite to eat. There are even computers onstage, too, for checking email or whatever.
Shakespeare purists may not thrive at this Dutch condensation of Shakespeare and its liberties with lines but this is immersive rather than classical theatre. It is grand and over-the-top like an opera. It is low and seedy like a political expose. And, it is in Dutch, a difference which soon feels strangely normal, despite the gutterals.
Even after six hours, the audience did not rush to leave. As one, it leapt to its feet to give a standing ovation that went on and on. And rightly so.
Samela Harris
When: 28 Feb to 2 Mar
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: adelaidefestival.com.au