The Bakehouse Theatre. 26 Apr 2014
Second time around and the foyer is packed with a keen new audience. ‘Death in Bowengabbie’ has proved to be a "keeper". It's a sweet, darkly comic one-hander which, well performed, is a particular richness of story-telling. Quite rightly, playwright Caleb Lewis, has been well recognised for its beautiful prose. He is an outstanding young Australian writer.
‘Death in Bowengabbie’ draws on the tradition of Irish narrative and for all the world it is an Irish-sounding name. But the town is the somewhere-nowhere home to which architect Oscar must return for the funeral of his auntie.
He has been away for 15 years. This little valley town, once famous for its jam factory, does rather individualistic funerals and, it seems, it does them often. Oscar, who is on the verge of both marriage to Ruth and a new job in Dubai, has to return repeatedly to Bowengabbie as one after another his elderly rellies falls off the perch.
Elliot Howard not only plays Oscar but also the various characters of Bowengabbie. Astutely directed by Peter Green, he does it with easy and effective underplay. He captures the gauche pushiness of his old school contemporary, Gary, the husky optimism of his grandpa with the laryngal keyhole, and Abby the town vet and quaint old Russian who keeps a pet Tasmanian devil...
As Oscar, he both enacts his tale and tells it in the third person. Green has kept the hour-long production very sparse, clean and clever, depending on Stephen Dean's lighting plot as the subtle mechanism which changes the times and places and moods. Otherwise, apart from several cardboard boxes which transform to gravestones, there is just the black back wall and a few sound effects.
After the show has opened with an amusing old movietone-style dramatis personae, the stage belongs to Elliot. His presence is personable and, as he relaxes into the narrative, he makes vivid the invisible world of the waning little town and the unusual funerals it turns on.
A tender and tentative love story evolves - softly, as is the nature of the piece. It is a particularly gentle and lyrical work but also sad, absurdist and from time to time, very funny indeed. And, it is blessed with a wonderful, satisfying, surprising ending - and one laughs, even against one's better judgement.
Samela Harris
When: 26 Apr to 10 May
Where: The Bakehouse Theatre
Bookings: bakehousetheatre.com
Adelaide Festival Centre. Festival Theatre. 15 April 2014
On her septuagenarian come-back tour, Helen Reddy both thrills and perplexes.
She still has a terrific set of pipes and impressive lung capacity. But, in black leggings and a black top, she dresses as if she's just popped in for a rehearsal. At least her blue earrings match her eye shadow. With a huge audience, mainly of Baby Boomer women who have paid a hundred and more bucks for their seats and donned bling and gladrags for the big occasion, you'd think the star could have frocked up. Her guitarist, Lenny Coltun, has gone to more trouble.
But Reddy plays it laid back and casual all the way. At first she seems a little detached. She has sung three songs before she remembers to say hello to the audience. As the 90-minute show develops, however, Reddy warms to the task and to the audience. She even gives a few wiggly self-huggies and ends with a declaration of love.
Between songs, the “queen of 70s pop" retreats to a stool amid the musicians "for a bit of a chat". Chat is not her strong point. She sighs and catches her breath, takes some sips of water and gets on with the next song. Lots of Paul Williams, one of her favourite songwriters. Some Don McLean. Some Peter Allen. And, of course, some Helen Reddy.
The fans are in seventh heaven when she does her big hits ‘Angie Baby’ and ‘Leave Me Alone (Ruby Red Dress)’. When she delivers ‘Mama’, which she dedicates to her own mother, Stella Lamond, she pretty much brings the house down. Despite the status of ‘I am Woman’ in the grand scheme of Reddy things, it is ‘Mama’ which is her biggest and most beautiful number on the night in Adelaide.
The little song she wrote when she was at UCLA, ‘You and Me Against the World’, she dedicates to her 16-year-old granddaughter. It is another winner.
Sometimes she seems uncertain as to which song she will sing and occasionally she muffs lyrics. But, since the whole show has the casual air, not to mention costume, of a rehearsal, it goes over.
The audience already loves the performer and, while the years may have taken the edge off her top notes, her voice is still that powerful, unusual and highly-recognisable instrument which earned her years of chart-topping success.
She gives her time to the minute. "It's not over until it's over," she jokes between numbers.
And, when it's over, it has been an evening of ballads and foot-tappers, some wonderful arrangements well played by the band and an intimate encounter with the woman who gave feminism that one triumphant anthem.
Samela Harris
When: Closed
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Festival Theatre. 22 Mar 2014
Rocky Horror has come to town - and South Australia takes a jump to the left.
Co-incidence?
Alexander Downer was conspicuous by his absence on opening night since the fishnet gag he did for the Variety Club almost 20 years ago has simply kept on dogging his handsome, besuited image.
Craig McLachlan, on the other hand, was very much the man in fishnets and, after 22 years, he has pretty much made it his own - despite the luminaries who have gone before and after, from Tim Curry and Reg Livermore to Tim Ferguson.
Each actor has brought his own wicked charm or dangerous edge to the role of Dr Fran-N-Furter. McLachlan brings big, beefy, cheeky, ham to it. It plays to all his strengths - physique, voice, comedy. When he is not wiggling that shapely tokus, he is mugging. His fair, curly-headed Frank-M-Furter does not give one the horrors. It is pantomime naughty and wildly self-indulgent, perhaps even channelling a streak of Dame Edna.
But Rocky Horror is no longer a horror show in anyone's lingo. Transvestites don't have cachet as a taboo subject any more. Anything and anyone goes these days. So the shock element of the show has faded. Instead, it stands its ground as a wonderful sci-fi fairy story - a latter day ‘Babes in the Wood’.
The naive, conservative lovers come in out of the storm to a crazy party house where they will lose their innocence. There are lots of wonderful songs. The audience knows and loves them all. All it asks is a good, loud orchestra and a fabulous cast. This show delivers.
It is a production less lavish than some that have gone before - returning to the old roots when it was alternative and risky rather than the mainstream blockbuster it became. The staging is smallish. The band is almost invisible on a balcony behind panels which would seem to have a film strip motif. The set is fairly economical - with some wonderful "stuffed" heads on the castle walls and a few clever trucks - particularly the upright double bed in which Frank has his naughty way with the visitors. McLachlan masterfully milks that scene for laughs - and it is pushed the brink of acceptability but not over.
But, if the show belongs to McLachlan, it is a glorious vehicle for its rising stars. Tim Maddren is simply the best Brad in the history of the business. Not only does he look and sound perfect, but the man can hoof up a storm. Christie Whelan Brown embodies the sort of Janet that Olivia Newton John would envy. She is lithe and lovely and can belt out a song with a big Broadway voice. Magenta also is beautifully cast. Erika Heynatz has a powerful presence, a great voice and wild wigs. Kristian Lavercombe not only has big shoes to fill as Riff Raff but they were there on the stage beside him in the 40-years-on form of Richard O'Brien, the show's creator. Lavercombe's performance is right up there with O'Brien's. Meanwhile, O'Brien gave a new element to his old show with a very casual and familiar delivery as the Narrator. He was an elegant joy to have on stage.
There were no weak spots in the cast. Ashlea Pyke is a lovely Columbia, albeit her costume is less idiomatic than in past productions. Nicholas Christo is so strong as both Eddie and Dr Scott that most people would not realise it is the same performer. Brendan Irving is just the cutest golden-haired muscle man in his leopard skin jocks and everyone is eminently well-supported by the four Phantom song and dance ensemble.
There are no surprises in Rocky Horror. It just rocks on through the ages. It is a cult classic and its fans are in seventh heaven at the very idea of it. They are not giving standing ovations; they are giving it leaping 'lovations'.
Samela Harris
When: 20 Mar to 13 Apr
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: bass.net.au
Adelaide Festival. Her Majesty’s Theatre. 15 Mar 2014
Isabella Rossellini is the daughter of Ingrid Bergman. It has nothing to do with the sex life of insects, but it is one of the reasons she was a big drawcard at the Adelaide Festival. She knows it and she generously included a little tribute to her mother at the end of her show, along with a wistful reflection on her mother's "perfection".
Isabella is perhaps something of a rebel daughter.
In her ‘Green Porno’ presentation, she revels in tales of the glory of the duck vagina and the ignoble smallness of the gorilla's penis. She wears whiskers and dresses as a hamster - murderous little creature which culls her litters by eating her own young. Good home economics, Rossellini suggests.
Studying biology and natural history turned Rossellini on to the fascinating peculiarities of insect and animal sex - and brought out the actress in her. Hence, she shows a series of film clips in which she embodies the creatures in question.
She performs the sado-masochism of the snail with glee and fearlessly has herself cannibalised as a praying mantis. She's a hilarious house fly and a decidedly erky spider. Many of these clips can be found on YouTube and it is worth watching them. They depict the essence of the show and the sweetly cheeky way in which Rossellini handles the subject. It is as quirky and funny as it is informative.
It is all good and proper science, after all.
And her show is not a theatrical business but a platform presentation. She performs from a lectern. She wears spectacles. She uses notes.
She is a beguiling lecturer with lots of props and an impish sense of anthropomorphic humour.
On her first night she played to a packed house which responded to her 75 minutes of scientific entertainment with rousing zeal.
She had just added another delightful ingredient to a wonderfully diverse and classy Adelaide Festival.
Samela Harris
When 15 to 16 Mar
Where: Her Majesty's Theatre
Bookings: adelaidefestival.com.au
Adelaide Festival. Queens Theatre. 14 Mar 2014
There are five candidates. The audience must vote. Many times.
But first, some personal details.
Angelo, the MC in a terrible chequered three-piece suite, encourages the 187 people in the old Queen's Theatre to give up their personal details by pressing numbers on little keypads with which they have all been provided. Age, gender, marital status, income...
Thus armed with demographics, he presents five candidates who need their votes. The losers will have to leave the stage, he warns.
Initial voting is pretty random since the candidates have not uttered a word. They are chosen by personal appeal. Then the winner and the loser may speak to the audience. It learns a little about them. But, various tests will turn up commonalities.
Which pejorative word is most offensive? Are we a little bit racist? Are we religious, spiritual or nothing? Do we prefer certain characteristics in a leader?
The candidates' ranks slim down. They speak some more. Winners versus losers. Another round of voting and the status quo changes. A back runner hits the lead. Does the audience still favour the candidate it liked before? What will swing the vote? The candidates vie for preference but they still have no real policy.
It is politically hollow but a very interesting exercise because the audience members have only a minute to answer serious questions. Are they a little bit racist? Dare they admit it? Yes, they reason. It is anonymous and all in the spirit of entertainment, after all. So, a majority of Adelaideans own up. They reject religion and spirituality, too. And they show that they are easily swayed by not very much at all when they suddenly change their voting preferences from one candidate to another.
Well, at least it was so on the opening night of this co-production from Belgium's Ontroerend Goed and Australia's The Border Project.
It did not prove that people will vote for people without parties or clear policies for it was clearly a game being played through actors in a theatre.
The votes were tallied by a couple of "officials" at a control desk to the rear of the square dais of stage. The results were transmitted as dots of various percentage sizes on an overhead monitor.
Sometimes the voting results surprised. Certainly the end of the game surprised.
It mightn't have been theatre, as such, but it was an extraordinary adventure in collective behaviour and it left its participants filled with questions, not about politics and elections, but about their own integrity.
Samela Harris
When: 13 to 16 March
Where: Queen's Theatre
Bookings: adelaidefestival.com.au