★★★★
Adelaide Fringe. Holden Street Theatres, Ruby’s Room. 15 Feb 2024
It might be the most intimate performance space in the 2024 Fringe. Indeed, even as mens’ locker rooms go, it is a tight fit. But, somehow, thirty audience members manage to perch on benches in a quaintly retro style reminiscent of the old Red Shed days.
Ah, such is our true hunger for theatre and memorable arts experiences.
The divine irony here is that, while set in a mens’ locker room, the play is about the wild physicality of rugby and the wide mountain landscape of Wales.
It is a journey of the imagination which is guided by an accomplished Welsh actor, Gareth J.Bale.
Wondering where the Woke boundaries lie when writing of such things, it has to be acknowledged that the Welsh are celebrated for their vocal prowess and said actor is possessed of a wonderful, rich, resonant voice, complete with a beautifully lilting Welsh accent. He’s a joy to the ear.
And, despite the tiny wee performance area, he shines as a beautiful mover. He’s an extremely fine actor.
As for the script by Owen Thomas, it delivers a non-linear biography of a legendary, much-worshipped Welsh rugby player called Ray Gravell.
Grav would seem to have been a colourful man and a particularly revered icon.
Did I mention that he was a massive Welsh pinup?
The show opens with a delicious anecdote about Peter O’Toole meeting Grav on a film set.
Ever with his graceful body work, Bale sets the scene of the Welsh cultural appetite for rugby and the passions of competitive rivalry. He has a rugby ball prop and a fine kicking mime style, so imaginary balls fly through the darkness to mighty goal destinations.
Grav had a full and varied life, some of it a decidedly grim. There are moments of immense poignancy in the play. There are moments, many of them, of raucous rivalry and jubilation.
The timeline is at times confusing, and the scoring is a challenge for those of us who have never been near a rugby match.
One can only respect the passion that so much of the world has for this form of football and believe in the verité of a very skilled piece of dramatic writing delivered by a simply superb actor.
At media day, the room went wild when it came to Bales’s curtain call.
This critic also applauded enthusiastically. For the production: lovely writing, sublime acting, and fun venue.
Samela Harris
When: 15 Feb to 17 Mar
Where: Holden Street Theatres
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
★★★★
Adelaide Fringe. Holden Street Theatres, The Arch. 15 Feb 2024
She was not a very nice person. She was an irredeemable drunk, in fact. With a seriously bitchy bent. She used to quip that she’d start the day by brushing her teeth and sharpening her tongue.
Nonetheless, they gave this New Yorker a plum job as a drama critic to which end she worked at both the prestigious publications of Vogue and Vanity Fair. It didn’t hurt that she was born a Rothschild. Nor that these were days before critics had to tiptoe through the minefields of potential litigation. Mind you, she did write some fine poems, plays, screenplays, and book reviews and she was staunchly a part of the anti-Nazi league and even, under the McCarthy era, a suspected communist. She knew everybody who was anybody but left her literary estate to a man she had never met, Martin Luther King.
She was a tiny, feisty, caustic, woman who adorned the world with a litany of one-liners which have never lost currency. "You can lead a horticulture but you can never make her think"; “Men seldom make passes at women in glasses”; "That woman speaks eighteen languages but can never say ‘no' in any of them" and, for her tombstone: “It was against her better judgement”.
And so Mrs Parker comes to Adelaide in the form of American actress Margot Avery.
Avery plays Dorothy as from the writer's collected The Portable Dorothy Parker and, sitting in a comfortable armchair by pleasant lamplight on stage, she sifts through her famous works, reading them out with a caustic commentary to an invisible companion while slugging down drink after drink. It is 1943 but she drinks “brown”, which is a lingering reference to the era of prohibition
Annie Lux is author of this well-wrought manifestation of Dorothy Parker, her life and works. It is a good script, peppered with those famous lines. It has already been a popular Fringe one-hander, having won a Best Show in Pittsburgh’s Fringe in 2017.
American director Lee Costello joins the team in Adelaide, and like Avery is a member of the Ensemble Studio Theatre in LA.
The show is presented in Holden Street Theatre’s intimate The Arch wherein the sightlines are superb.
At the Media Day performance, however, audibility was a stretch for some, albeit the guffaws were plentiful.
Dorothy Parker was not a comedienne and nor is Avery. This is a narrative show, a bio-play and it ranges through some very interesting American literary history rich with Parker's personal anecdotes about Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway among others.
It’s well worth a look and an attentive listen. One’s chuckles are accompanied by a lovely learning curve.
Samela Harris
When: 15 Feb to 17 Mar
Where: Holden Street Theatres
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
State Theatre Company South Australia. Dunstan Playhouse. 6 Feb 2024
Post Fukushima, the monstrous possibilities of tidal waves versus nuclear power stations have lurked in our minds.
Such a nuclear disaster is backdrop to Lucy Kirkwood’s play, The Children.
It pits the responsibility of one generation for another: our children inheriting the consequences of our eras.
To that end, retired nuclear physicists Robin and Hazel live on in the exclusion zone of the devastated nuclear power plant that they helped to build. Robin uses his radiation detector as he brings in objects from the danger zone wherein his cows still reside with undrinkable milk. Electricity comes and goes in brown-out schedules as the couple pursue their retirement domestica, Hazel using yoga as her health regime and Robin concocting potent home-made wines. Then, their former friend and colleague, Rose, turns up out of the blue and a tangle of old loose ends begins to untwine.
Kirkwood’s script is quite dense but, with Corey McMahon’s light directorial touch and the consummate skills of three seasoned actors, it delivers from the darkness of its predicament a sense of human vivacity and the power of love.
One may describe it as a dystopian kitchen sink drama since it is set in a well-used kitchen which dominates designer Victoria Lamb’s weathered country house interior. Nic Mollison complements this atmosphere of fatalistic resolution with a canny lighting plot featuring candlelight and a bright fresh-air back door by which the visitor, Rose, sits to smoke. The unpredictability of electricity is nigh on another character in the play.
Oddly, the characters are not inherently likeable. They reveal loads of emotional baggage and personal agendas and the audience’s attachment to them swings with the rise and fall of their interactions. This, of course, is one of the strengths of the play. For almost two unbroken hours, one is engaged and expectant. And it does not disappoint.
Three stars dominate the stage. Genevieve Mooy is Hazel, the extrovert, a grandmother dithering in a life of brave denial. She is strident, quirky, and oft-times gorgeously funny. Tina Bursill is the visitor, Rose, delivered impeccably as cool, calculating, patient, and duplicitous. Terence Crawford plays Robin, Hazel’s adoring and/or long-suffering spouse who perchance weaponises his alcohol to mute the reality of their predicament. All three actors bring a credible complexity of dimensions to their characters, but Crawford’s is the tour-de force performance.
Samela Harris
When: 6 to 17 Feb
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: statetheatrecompany.com.au
Cameron Mackintosh in association with GWB Entertainment. Adelaide Festival Theatre. 5 Jan 2024
It is a visually spectacular depiction of Saigon we are met with as the curtain rises at the Adelaide Festival Theatre, we are not merely witnessing another performance of Miss Saigon, but rather an evocative reminder of the profound impacts of war on human lives. This production, set against the backdrop of the Vietnam War, delves into the heartrending realities faced by those caught in the crossfire of battle.
Deeply rooted in the horrors of conflict, the foundation of the story poignantly addresses the profound and lasting effects of war, focussing on the turmoil and moral dilemmas of the show’s protagonists, Kim and Chris. Particularly heart-wrenching is the plight of the half-Vietnamese, half-American children, often referred to as 'bui doi' or 'dust of life' they were born of the ‘relationships’ between Vietnamese women and American soldiers. Abandoned and ostracised, these children symbolise the long-lasting scars of war, embodying a generation born from turmoil and left to navigate a world that views them through a lens of prejudice and hardship. Miss Saigon lends a voice to their often overlooked and long forgotten stories, with a particular focus on the child born to Kim and Chris, a living symbol of fractured worlds, broken promises, and the lasting human cost of war.
In the role of Kim, Abigail Adriano not only captures the essence of a young woman caught in the unforgiving tide of war but also showcases an exceptional vocal prowess that is a cornerstone of this production. Her portrayal of Kim's evolution, from innocence to confronting her grim reality, is equal parts moving and profound. Adriano's voice, commanding in both the upper and lower ends of her register, brings a nuance to Kim that reflects the varying shades of her emotional journey. Whether in moments of tender vulnerability or passionate outcry, her voice resonates with a power that captivates the audience. Adriano's embodiment of a mother's love and a woman's desperation against insurmountable odds is not just seen but felt. Brava! On opening night, Kim’s son Tam is played with bravery and grace by Michael Nguyen Chang.
Nigel Huckle's portrayal of Chris masterfully captures his character's internal conflicts. His performance underscores the emotional and psychological toll of combat and brings to life the struggle between duty and personal morality. Huckle's exquisite operatic tones deftly navigate the score's intricacies, even in its more formulaic moments. An exceptionally skilled actor to boot, Huckle's chemistry with Adriano is electrifying. Their dynamic pairing creating a palpable connection that forms the backbone of the story's tragic love narrative.
Seann Miley Moore embodies the complex, morally ambiguous, and pivotal character, The Engineer. Moore's performance is a compelling exploration of human nature's duality, masterfully navigating the chaos of war with a perfect blend of cunning and charisma. Moore's portrayal is a tour de force! Described in their bio as "an embodiment of queer Asian excellence," never a truer word was written. Moore 's performance of The Engineer stands out as the most exceptional one has seen. They completely make the role their own, skilfully combining the character's humour, sensitivity, and self-loathing with aplomb.
The supporting lead characters of John, played by Lewis Francis, Thuy, played by Laurence Mossman, Ellen, played by Kerrie Anne Greenland, and Gigi, played by Kimberley Hodgson all offer exceptional support and round out the talented cast with individually solid performances. The opening act 2 number Bui Doi, led by Huckle with Laurence Mossman and the male ensemble is a vocal highlight of the production.
The ensemble's performance also resonates deeply, capturing the narrative's intense emotional subject. Their vivid depiction of the streets of Vietnam embody the vibrant yet scarred spirit of the Vietnamese people. This production doesn't shy away from the darker aspects of its setting either. It features scenes of overt sexual acts and extreme violence performed with a raw honesty that adds an unmistakable layer of authenticity to the brutal reality.
The set design by Matt Kinley and Totie Driver, enhanced by Associate Set Designer David Harris, significantly elevates this production. The versatile, multi-tiered set facilitates smooth transitions across various scenes. A highlight is the evacuation scene in Kim’s Nightmare (Fall of Saigon 1975), where mobile embassy fencing is employed to effectively convey the chaos and urgency with stunning choreography (Richard Jones). The helicopter is particularly remarkable, as a full-scale chopper dominates the stage, creating a breathtaking spectacle. This scene reaches its climax as the helicopter dramatically takes off with principal cast members hanging from its sides, a powerful visual that captivates the audience and combines the best of lighting, sound, production, and performance. Despite these strengths, Bruno Poet's lighting, while intending to be mood-setting, is occasionally overly dark, at times obscuring the finer details of the performance and affecting the visual storytelling's clarity. The orchestra, under the Musical Direction and Batton of Geoffrey Castles is exceptional.
The direction of this production, by Laurence Connor, cleverly intertwines the spectacle with intimate storytelling, ensuring that important messages are not lost. This production of Miss Saigon is a stirring testament to the cast and creatives. It invites the audience to reflect on the less visible casualties of war, at one point through a stirring projection of the faces of some of the 'bui doi' (projection by Luke Halls). Miss Saigon has always been a slower burn than its contemporaries, however this is a production that will not only resonate with the audience but also challenge them to confront the uncomfortable truths about war and its aftermath.
Paul Rodda
When: 2 to 28 Jan
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: ticketek.com.au
State Theatre Company South Australia with Caitlin Ellen Moore and Tim Overton. Slingsby’s Hall of Possibility. 29 Nov 2023
Director Tim Overton says Sarah Ruhl’s play, Dead Man’s Cell Phone, is about connection, but there is a behemothly blaring disconnection to start the whole thing off. Dead Man’s Cell Phone is an early career hit for the American playwright in 2007, and still somehow her nominations for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama (twice) and a Tony Award for best play have not brought her the gong, and judging by this little gem, that’s a shame.
Dead Man’s Cell Phone. Thought I’d just say it again because it has a great ring to it. We are all now familiar with the possibility of a grotesque afterlife on social media. Back in 2007, though, Sarah was musing about disembodied voices on mobile devices that are sourced from anywhere, or maybe nowhere - different to the known location of a stationary voice at the end of a hard-wired telephone.
It would lessen your experience of this remarkable production by giving too much away except, yes, literally, it has a lot to do with a dead man’s cell phone. The elements of discovery and surprise, the transposition of time and place, and the mix of the seemingly normal and something besides that are in the script have been amplified by terrifically disconcerting performances. As well as theatrical movement directed by Overton and choreographer Zoë Dunwoodie, stark lighting by Vanessa van de Weyer, Wendy Todd’s ever-shifting set, and composer Dave McEvoy’s live music and sound effects integrated into the performance – all this provides the surrealism and bizarre surprises found in a David Lynch film.
James Smith’s virtuosity stunned me in Theatre Republic’s How Not To Make It In America in 2021, and that consummate capacity is again on display here. His masterful movement and voice versatility are fun and awesome. He is the dead man and his bro. Bravo! Annabel Matheson as Jean grips our hand as she takes us along on her surreal sojourn. From the time she answers the dead man’s phone, her naïve duplicity leads us down the rabbit hole into the Alice’s Wonderland-like unreality of the dead man’s life. It’s difficult for us to shake away Shabana Azeez’s exotic character when she’s supposed to be a disappointed and rather ordinary housewife; it is the former where she is supremely successful. Continuing the Alice in Wonderland metaphor, stalwart performer Carmel Johnson is The Queen but doesn’t reach the required authenticity.
In the end, white lies can make a difference and a peripatetic love story conquers all. Dead Man’s Cell Phone (I love this title) is a lively evening of munificent magic and discombobulating delectation. Bravo!
David Grybowski
When: 29 Nov to 10 Dec
Where: Slingsby’s Hall of Possibility
Bookings: events.humantix.com