Adelaide Festival. Her Majesty’s Theatre. Ilbijerri Theatre Company. 14 Mar 2025
This is a story of family and of love, specifically of the Butcher brothers and their dream to play music together and be rock and rollers. The boys from Papunya formed the Warumpi Band in 1980; Sammy Tjapanangka Butcher on guitar, his brother Gordon Tjapanangka Butcher on drums, and Neil Murray on rhythm guitar and singer George Burarrwanga, a Yolgnu man who joined the family when he later married Suzina Butcher, sister of Sammy and Gordon. As is made clear in the narrative of this performance, the Warumpi Band existed first and foremost to satisfy the members’ craving to make music, and success brought tensions such as exist with many such groups, especially when success means long periods away from home.
But first, this is a theatre show based on the story of Warumpi Band. It is not a band performance, though that is largely the structure in which this performance is presented, and this allows the audience to fully become part of the show, calling and whistling and laughing along with the actors onstage. According to my companion “showtime is showtime” and she chided a professional theatre company for not being on time; simply the latest instance in weeks of late starts from professional companies. The audience didn’t mind, people were casually wandering in ten minutes after the advertised time – perhaps it’s becoming a circular argument. And what a crowd they were; the Adelaide crowd and family, friends and mob from all over the country, on their feet and enjoying themselves from the first song.
Co-Directors Rachael Maza and Anyupa Butcher have opted for a simple music structure for this performance, with short linking storytelling excerpts interspersed through the 100 minutes. This keeps the performers on their toes as the tale pivots quickly from music to introspection. One suspects having original Warumpi Band member Sammy Tjapanangka Butcher as musical consultant kept the cast on their toes also. There are six frontline performers, Cassandra Williams plays Suzina and all the female roles, Baykali Ganambarr plays Sammy Butcher, Jack Hickey plays Gordon, Corey Saylor-Brunskill plays Brian Butcher, a sometimes band member, Taj Pigram plays a vibrant George, Jackson Peele plays Neil Murray. All play and sing as part of the performance.
In addition to these frontmen there is the band in the background, lead by the musical director Gary Watling, on guitar. He is joined by bassist Malcolm Beveridge, drums and keyboard player Jeremiah Butcher and lead guitarist Jason Butcher (eldest son of Sammy Butcher). What it all means is the musical passages are covered by a very muscular band indeed, much more punk rock in sheer buzzing energy than countrified and easy-going. Most commonly there were three guitars working a riff, and with Taj Pigram bounding around and demanding the audience’s participation the evening became a celebration of the Warumpi’s music.
Of the music itself, those of us of a certain age will always remember Stompin’ Ground, Black Fella/White Fella, Stand Up and Be Counted, and, of course, My Island Home, a song written by Neil Murray for George Burarrwanga after a visit to the latter’s homeland, Elcho Island. The songs themselves, so naturally a part of Warumpis story since they show the band’s culture and agenda (land rights, demands to be recognised and taken for who they are), become the bedrock of the performance. In fact, there is one minor aspect which seemed to exemplify this perfectly, when in the narrative the cast recalls Warumpi performing at Hordern Pavilion with Midnight Oil, mimicking ‘the tallest white man they had ever seen’, fully aware that Peter Garrett was in the audience directly in front of them. Though the love and respect of the two bands for each other is well known, this was a Warumpi moment, and to his credit Garrett did not play up to it, remaining seated even during the acclaim and encore, which was boisterous.
This was such an enjoyable performance, as much a celebration of what the Warumpi band was and what they meant to their people as much as what might have been. The simple truth of a band who ‘might have been more’ yet fractured under pressure or wanted to be home with family more than they wanted fame and fortune resonated for me as strongly as their sheer joy in performance. A rare evening to be part of.
Alex Wheaton
When: Closed
Where: Her Majesty’s Theatre
Bookings: Closed
Adelaide Festival. Dunstan Playhouse. 13 Mar 2025
For the first five minutes or so, there’s a sense of expectation, even trepidation, from the opening night audience. It feels a touch undone, a little earnest, a little anxious. We watch each other on the full, stage-wide screen as we enter the auditorium, our mirrored selves sitting and settling, looking curiously at the almost bare stage.
From the rear of the auditorium, a man appears, playing drums on a large plastic tub. As he descends the stairs, he invites others to play. So, no fourth wall here! Introducing himself as Rwandan busker Jean-Benoit (Rashidi Edward), our journey through the love stories of a random sample of Brisbanites begins.
During Covid (how that period has become a touchstone in our lives!) Trent Dalton, journalist and author, sat himself down on the corner of Adelaide and Albert Streets in Brisbane with a sky-blue Olivetti typewriter. ‘Can you tell me a love story?’ he asked the passersby. And enough of them did to populate a new book, simply titled Love Stories.
That book has now been adapted for stage by Tim McGarry with Director and Dramaturg Sam Strong. Dalton wrote additional linking text with his partner Fiona Franzmann, referencing their own love story, and what they have presented us with is nothing short of wonderful. It is a gem.
Husband and Wife (Jason Klarwein and Michala Banas representing Dalton and Franzmann) are the link between all the disparate stories, with Jean-Benoit asking the questions that pushes the narrative along. As these characters settle into place, so too does the audience and before long all are keenly awaiting the next story, the next laugh, the next anguish, the next tears.
The sparseness of Renee Mulder’s set is the perfect foil as characters talk, laugh, cry and most delightfully, dance. The screen which takes up the entire stage rear is constantly in use, for anecdotes, long shots, swirling action sequences... Choreographer Nerida Matthaei moves the ensemble around the stage, marrying effortlessly with the live feed camera operator (Craig Wilkinson), and at times we almost feel we are seeing a modern dance production. The use of immediate and on-the-spot digital technology has allowed this new capability to be entertained on the stage; you might at times think of it as ‘nose hair cam’. Ben Hughes lighting design adds immeasurably to the calming of what at times becomes quite chaotic, occasionally too much so.
Love is, as Wife tells Husband, ‘Messy’. And the whole messy thing is laid bare here, each vignette describing in sometimes painful detail the experiences of true love, bad love, lost love, desperate, unrequited and joyful love. The ensemble works beautifully together, inhabiting various and disparate characters working through the vagaries of love.
These are the stories of us. There are half a dozen major vignettes which unfold in the hundred minutes. There is nothing shocking or alien to these tales; we recognise them as ours, as our family’s, as our friends’. There’s a universality to it all, and the many characters played by a handful of actors show this most clearly, yet it’s a testament to the writing that the individuality shines through. And it just makes you want to fall in love again.
Arna Eyers-White
When: 13 to 16 Mar
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: adelaidefestival.com.au
★★★★★
Adelaide Fringe. Yamoussa Bangoura. The Flamingo at Gluttony. 12 Mar 2025
“Circus.” The word conjures a range of memories and images. There’s traditional circus, Nouveau Cirque style circus, burlesque style and many others. I love the nouveau style because it often follows a narrative. That’s part of the appeal of Cirque Kalabanté - Afrique en Cirque.
Kalabanté, a word from one of the main languages spoken across the West African region, Sousou, means a “child go-getter, ambitious, with exceptional courage.” And Yamoussa Bangoura’s Cirque Kalabanté - Afrique en Cirque exudes this in abundance!
Life in a Guinean village is the narrative thread underpinning this extraordinary show. The lights fade to black, a soundscape of an African dawn- bird and animal calls, and a cacophony of insect sounds- fill the air.
Two lanterns appear, and, as the lights slowly fade up, we become aware they are held by a man in a shimmering coat draped on his muscular frame. The man carries a kora, a remarkably beautiful 21 stringed instrument used to great effect throughout the show.
The man approaches the audience, surveys them and proudly states, “I am Yamoussa Bangoura, from Guinea, and this is my kora.” He continues, “The kora used to be played only for kings and queens” before disappearing again into the darkness. The stage erupts with three powerful drummers taking to the stage heralding the depiction of a fishing village, the villagers calling out to each other, throwing nets, and preparing baskets of fish.
The depiction of village life morphs into a show featuring some of the most extraordinary acrobatics, dancing, and contortion in combination I’ve ever seen! The acrobats are simply gravity defying, the contortionist anatomy defying, yet strangely lovable, and the dancing dazzlingly joyful! It’s electric!
The West African oral tradition of the Griot, one some argue is the earliest incarnation of rap, and, subsequently, hip hop, was used to great effect, it’s call-and-response element used to engage the willing audience.
And the music! It is clear music is not merely entertainment in Ghana. The show is punctuated with almost sacred moments where haunting melodies, and Bangoura’s soulful voice wash over the auditorium. It matters not a bit that Bangoura sings in Sousou; the music soars with a sense of the divine. A lyrically played electric bass, it’s player on stage, adds to the rich ambiance of the show. Ethereal ambiance is replaced by driving beats and the most extraordinarily energetic dancing to create a sense of ritual. There’s cheeky humour in abundance and the audience is strongly encouraged to connect with the performers; there’s little encouragement needed as the charm of the cast is irresistible! Hyperbole? No! This show really is amazing!
Go! See it!
John Doherty
When: 8 to 23 Mar
Where: The Flamingo at Gluttony
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
★1/2
Adelaide Fringe. Makan Wine Bar. 12 Mar 2025
Mark Isaac is gay, autistic, a medical doctor, Scottish, and doesn’t mind poking fun at himself and his neurodivergence (although he says he hates that term, because what’s normal anyway?). It sounds like the ingredients are there for a fun time!
Isaac is one of a growing number of comedians who use their sexuality as a scaffold for their humour, but to throw autism into the mix might seem risky. In Isaac’s case, the risk has not paid off and his show A Kilted Queer does not live up to its publicity and hype.
Isaac has been successful elsewhere, with positive responses at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival and Sydney Comedy Festival, but this potential is not evident in his current show, which is disjointed, overly reliant on audience participation, and under-prepared.
The small audience in the cute upstairs Makan Wine Bar were generous, kind spirited and laughed loudly on occasions. Some identified with Isaac’s lived experience, and valued his honesty, but at the end of the day, it was meant to be stand-up comedy, but it missed the mark.
Kym Clayton
When: 12 to 15 Mar
Where: Makan Wine Bar
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
★★★★1/2
Adelaide Fringe. Rhino Room. 12 Mar 2025
AJ Lamarque is not your ordinary garden-variety comic. He is extraordinarily clever, witty, perceptive, and a gratuitous, smutty word or remark doesn’t get any airplay at all in his show (although he does use the word ‘penis’ once, but that surely doesn’t count!).
His show – A Beginner’s Guide to Gay Cruising – is his first foray into the Adelaide Fringe, but his season is preciously short. He is better known in the eastern states and has a successful eclectic career as a presenter, writer, producer and comedian. Word of mouth is king in comedy, and clearly the word is out as evidenced by the sold-out audience in the intimate Hell’s Kitchen in the Rhino Room.
Lamarque is an out and proud gay man, and early in his routine he lets us know that his show is not about gay men looking to ‘hook up’ in public places but is rather about going on an ocean cruise exclusively for gay men! He speaks from personal experience, but his narrative is less about the salacious activity one might assume happens when you get five-thousand gay men together in one location for nine days of partying, and more about how such an event can be therapeutic for someone who feels they are labelled ‘gay’ first, and anything else second.
It all sound rather serious, and it is, but Lamarque’s abundant skill is such that the audience never stops laughing. And it’s genuine laughter – it’s happy and appreciative laughter. He frequently makes a point that is potent at one level and then turns it into a killer oh-so-funny joke by contrasting it with something totally unexpected.
Along the way he is self-deprecating, but it’s purposeful. He puts himself down in the mildest of ways but uses it as a magnet to bring us back to the point he is making. Sometimes the point is sad, but every grey cloud, etc, etc and we still finish up laughing.
Lamarque’s brand of comedy is sophisticated, as is he. Lamarque is fun. Lamarque is the sort of comedian you want to see again, and again. He is charming, easy on the eye and has a flashing and infectious smile that fills the stage.
Kym Clayton
When: 12 to 15 Mar
Where: Rhino Room
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au