University of Adelaide Theatre Guild. Little Theatre. 15 Aug 2021
It’s always time for a little cup of Coward, just to remind one that once there was polite society in which nice households had servants and everyone liked a drop of sweet sherry.
Blithe Spirit offers all that nostalgia and then some, as it throws in the pre-TV-days idea of having the local clairvoyant in to entertain with a séance.
Oddly, the Guild has chosen to frock this period piece in quasi 50s costumes and to allow the clumsy maid to look a bit scruffy. Of course, hers is a clownish role, well delivered by Ashlee Scott, and the play is a classic comedy which has been in production on stage and screen since 1941.
It depicts a writer Charles Condomine seeking background from the spirit world for his next book. To the annoyance of his second wife, Ruth, mystic Madam Arcati conjures up the ghost of his first wife, Elvira. Folly and cross-purposes ensue.
While The Little Theatre proves extremely comfortable for covid conditions, it is a bit incongruous for such a trad play. Director Megan Dansie, however, makes the best of the quaint little round space, especially in enabling the grey figure of Elvira to literally breeze through the audience.
Dansie's strength in this production is in her casting. The play is extremely ably performed. The accents and enunciations are right on the ball, if one forgives a “mischeevious” or two. Newly discovered young Emily Currie is positively breathtaking as Elvira. She is exquisitely counterpointed by seasoned hand, Jean Walker, whose Madam Arcati is spry, devious, and funny. Miriam Keane is word-perfect as the hapless second wife Ruth and Brad Martin embodies the suave central figure of Charles Condomine with panache, timing, and clarity of articulation reminiscent of the young Russell Starke. Esther Michelsen and Steve Marvanek complete the cast with adept characterisations.
This Noel Coward old-school comedy of manners is now a fairly fragile period piece. Millennial audience members may well wonder why the women are sitting around in the living room waiting for the men after dinner. While Dansie has handled the play with care in a tricky performance space, one cannot help but wish it had been possible to tighten it up with a blue pencil.
Nonetheless, the scenes of ghostly mixed messages raise the same wholesome laughs as ever they did.
Samela Harris
When: 11 to 21 Aug
Where: The Little Theatre, University of Adelaide
Bookings: trybooking.com
Independent Theatre. Goodwood Theatre. 4 Aug 2021
Independent’s artistic director, Rob Croser, has made an audacious gamble on presenting a classic Shakespeare play not only in the traditionalist ilk but also neatly cut and devoid of an interval.
This is exquisitely perceptive in this era of coronavirus restrictions and audience sensitivity. An early start, a snappy midwinter show and spacious covid seating. This is us, 2021.
Bravo.
Eschewing the fads of period re-interpretations, Croser has put Macbeth back into familiar period costuming, draping the Scots in clan sashes and allowing the actors to deliver lines in the old school of Shakespearian enunciation. From Matt Hyde in the titular role, not a word is lost, albeit many are raised in powerful emphasis. Hyde works this part with almost exhausting dedication and articulation, a bellowing ill-fated villain of desperate misunderstanding. He mellows superbly at the critical moment of that great among greatest of Shakespearean soliloquies: “It is a tale,
Told by an idiot, Full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing..”
It is a magic and memorable moment.
Also starring in this Rob Croser production is the forest of Dunsinane.
Suddenly, beyond the striking blood red diamond of the raked stage, a lush backdrop of tall trees appears as if in the dim distance. It is a stunning achievement of lighting, imagination and, indeed, of sourcing of long coniferous fronds behind which the hidden enemy slinks to the fore. Magic.
This is followed by a cacophony of period battle sounds and expertly choreographed swordsmanship.
A magnificent Croser-devised soundscape rides behind the vast tragedy of Macbeth’s doomed world, from the chirping of crickets to eerie booming presages of imminent doom.
Matt Hyde delivers a strong classic Macbeth but Rebecca Kemp rises yet higher as the malign and appalled Lady Macbeth. Amid a torrent of talented male actors, she towers.
The three witches, oddly clad in something akin to Apache fringes, are a shrill, cackling chorus rather more interesting by the Croser suggestion that they should represent three generations, mother, daughter, and granddaughter. Hence they are embodied by senior actress Pam O'Grady with Lyn Wilson and Emma Bleby.
As ever, Independent has gathered a strong amalgam of senior and newcomer actors. Seasoned Steve Turner plays a compelling Banquo whose death one mourns and whose ghostly reiterations one admires. As his son, Callum Nunn emerges as a talented teen whose own ghostly onstage expressions long may haunt audience members. Strong performances are all over the place from this cast, ever exemplified by masterful David Roach as the old king.
Independent’s success continues with Shedrick Yarkpai once again shining with the pure bright light of his considerable talent. Here, as McDuff, his emotional depth is gut-wrenching as he learns of the death of his "pretty chickens and their dam”.
Also outstanding is Eddie Sims as the young heir to the throne and, indeed also those performing as the ruthless cohort which surrounds him.
With its eloquent lighting and staged simplicity, this is Shakespeare as we know and love him.
Samela Harris
When: 31 Jul to 12 Aug
Where: Goodwood Theatre
Bookings: trybooking.com
Bakehouse Theatre. 17 Jul 2021
Out of the cold, wet night and into the convivial warmth and excellence of the Bakehouse. And we are to receive yet another wonderful, riveting production as, with our tears, we count down to the demise of this beloved and significant venue.
The intimacy of the auditorium and the commitment of the actors makes this Sam Shepard classic just a bit daunting. There is a sense that the vengeful mania of big brother Lee is only just under control, and he is just metres away. Actor Marko Siklich is a big man and, inhabited by the hair-trigger psychopathology of Lee’s character, he is really rather frightening. Designer Hayley Green has placed the action right at the audience’s knees in a skeletal house frame. Beyond is a view of vast symbolic desert whence Lee is purported to have come to visit his screenwriter brother who is housesitting while their mother is in Alaska. Lee is a hustler and petty thief who brings with him a complex sibling agenda and, between downing beers and crushing the cans, he usurps brother Austin’s relationship with his Hollywood agent and a battle of territorial imperative ensues, climaxing in one of the greatest bizarre theatre scenes ever to involve toasters. Amid the sturm und drang of the terrible sibling showdown there is humour and also a knife-edge sense of veracity. Family life can be a dangerous place.
Director Caroline Mignone seems to have taken the play right under its own skin. It is a remarkably tense and vivid production with superb performances, including her own as the poor, hapless mother.
Marko Siklich’s fearsomely robust portrayal is exquisitely counterpointed by Robbie Greenwell who delivers brother Austin's evolution from confident, disciplined writer to its very antithesis. It is a potent emotional transition, very well executed. Rick Mills completes the cast with eminent competence as the self-serving Hollywood agent and, without falter, all actors sustain impeccable American accents.
Stephen Dean maintains his track record as a leading lighting designer in this work which, indeed, has been a work of talented devotion from all. The play is officially presented by the two principal actors and, as such, is an impressively professional enterprise with the power of a Flinders Drama alumni background. And, not to be reiterative but, dammit, it serves to emphasise what Adelaide’s theatre community will be losing without the Bakehouse.
Samela Harris
When: 14 to 17 Jul
Where: Bakehouse Theatre
Bookings: Closed
Tea Tree Players Theatre Youth. Tilley Recreation Park. 15 Jul 2021
A chilly, rainswept Adelaide night was the perfect occasion to see C.S. Lewis’ enduring tale of four children’s adventures in the snow covered world of Narnia. Oddly enough, the idea that a child can go into an old wardrobe and come out the other side into a parallel universe is still quite an acceptable concept, and that can only be a good thing!
The story follows the four Pevensie siblings who have been sent to the countryside for safety during the blitz (WW2). The costuming reflects this era - floral frocks and loose fitting slacks – but there is little reference otherwise. Having wandered through the aforementioned wardrobe into Narnia, Lucy (Gaby Taylor), Peter (Matthew Visciglio), Susan (Ashlee Brown) and Edmund (Zack Brittan) find themselves at the centre of a hostile takeover of Narnia. It has been prophesied that ‘two daughters of Eve and two sons of Adam’ will appear in the land, and assist the mysterious lion Aslan to destroy the evil witch queen and restore Narnia to the garden it once was. Along the way, they will experience betrayal, forgiveness, sacrifice and resurrection. If you’re sensing Christian overtones here, you’re right on track.
This debut by co-directors Rhi Shapcott and Kristyn Barnes, themselves graduates of the TTP Youth group, is a simple production; good old fashioned theatre without the technical tricks and geegaws over-offered these days. Painted flats, the lamppost (of course) and bits of furniture brought on and off by wood nymphs works perfectly well, if a little slow at times. The story is somewhat edited – it’s a bit hard to fit an entire book into 90 minutes or so – but the production flows effortlessly, and there’s not really a sense of anything important being omitted.
This is an ensemble work, and the cast are obviously supportive of each other, but some standout performances must be mentioned. Mathew Wright (at 6 feet tall, beautifully cast as the Dwarf) has a wonderful time with his role, and though he’s meant to be bad, the entire audience loves him.
Jimmy White as Mr Beaver brings a much nuanced performance, using expression and his body to bring his character to life, and shows a maturity in stage craft that should be nurtured.
Max Shapcott as the White Witch displays a maniacally effective evil laugh; equally well voiced is the sonorous Aslan (Clinton Nitschke), roaring out his anger while equally tempering his beautiful baritone for gentler delivery.
Makeup is one of the stars of the show. In the manner of kiddies’ face painting, the representation of animal faces is superb; beavers, fawns, wolves and unicorns, with Aslan’s lion makeup an artistic standout. Well done!
Particular mention must be made of the volunteers looking after front of house. COVID plans are not easy to deal with, and audiences are not easy to shepherd. In this instance, they perform brilliantly, combining efficiency with good humour; they could teach a few other organisations how to get the balance right! Congratulations all.
Arna Eyers-White
When: Until 17 Jul
Where: Tilley Recreation Park
Bookings: trybooking.com
World Premiere. Brink Productions. Space Theatre. 13 Jul 2021
Is he beautiful or is he grotesque? In his fire red lipstick and swirling Spanish gown of electric blue, Paul Capsis is a phenomenon of strange allure.
Highly mannered, he flicks his bewigged head from one side to another to present his magnificent profile. He is, for the moment, the haughty Perichole, greatest actress of 18th Century Peru, and she has stories to tell; stories of love and cruelty, of splendour and despair. These are the tales of those whose lives were lost to the collapse of the ancient rope bridge woven by the Incas: The Bridge Of San Luis Rey. Every time the actor enunciates the name of the bridge, it rings out like the striking of a beautiful bell.
This is the contemporary reimagining of the great Thornton Wilder novel which took out the 1927 Pulitzer Prize. Adapted for the stage by Phillip Kavanagh, it is a Brink production directed by Chris Drummond under the auspices of the Adelaide Guitar Festival. To that end, the festival’s artistic director Slava Grigoryan is onstage with fellow classical guitarist Manus Noble of the UK. These sublime musicians book end the narrator and illustrate the dramatic undulations of the five tales. Sometimes they are a part of them with flamenco flourish. Sometimes they are a moody musical mirror. Sometimes the beauty of their classical exposition is transcendental and the audience may just drift into its being.
Paul Capsis, meanwhile, is tackling one of the most challenging roles ever thrown at a performer. Since The Bridge of San Luis Rey is a book, he carries the book and for various stretches of stories, he reads from its pages. There are so many words. Oh, so many words, so complex in the separation and intertwining of the tales of the bridge’s victims. Timing is all. And the audience must concentrate.
Sometimes he is a clown, a pastiche character of large teeth in a huge red-rimmed mouth, mocking and hamming and taking theatricality to its stylised edge. He draws a laugh here, a chuckle there. That mouth is extraordinary. Sometimes he has prima-donna tantrums. And sometimes, he sings. The Capsis forte. Lovely, albeit the Sia Chandelier parody grates.
The play is a tour de force of fabulist verbosity, sometimes seeming steeply uphill, relieved only by the strains and strums of the guitars. One is watching a performer hard at work, changing narratives and genders and costumes in a round world of brilliant blueness. The Jonathan Oxlade set is a circular dais backed by curtains which open onto projected designs and sometimes silhouettes of the performers. Spotlights shaft in from all directions and the blue night takes on many forms. It is its own work of art.
Indeed, it is all very Brink and Drummond in its deceptive simplicity. Three people on one small stage and one huge experience.
Samela Harris
When: 13 to 24 Jul
Where: Space Theatre
Bookings: bass.net.au