The Adelaide Repertory Theatre. Arts Theatre. 22 Nov 2024
Most Australians remember the Ruth Cracknell/Gary McDonald television series of Mother and Son, penned by Geoffrey Atherden AM. They loved or hated it.
This stage variation on the theme - dotty, forgetful old mum’s challenging relationship with her carer son - is not a familiar “episode” from the series and it has a contemporary setting. Hence, its humour encompasses the very things which drive us all to various stages of dementia right now, things like mobile phones and telemarketing. Who among us cannot relate to these? But, while the play teases laughs from confusion, it also highlights the serious issues of aging and families; the fear of loneliness, the fear of institutionalisation, respite versus admission, the danger of falls and, of course, loyalty and responsibility.
All of those may only be communicated through the credibility endowed by good actors and, as director, the Rep’s respected Jude Hines has roped them in. Penni Hamilton-Smith plays old Mrs Beare. She a seasoned character actor and she tucks this challenging part under her belt with disarming ease and laudable lack of vanity. By the play’s end, she has established the most extraordinarily warm relationship with the audience. It is eating out of her hand, as they say in the classics. And, they whoop her at the curtain call, which, incidentally, has its own idiosyncratic charm.
The two Beare sons are polar opposites and aptly embodied by Stephen Bills as the adored successful dentist and Patrick Clements as the loyal stay-at-home caring carer son. Sub plots give romantic involvements to both men and, hence, the cast includes several well-wrought young female characters, very pleasantly played by Mollie Mooney, Nikki Gaertner Eaton and Jessica Corrie. Children Alifa Willoughby and Harry Bacon appear also as old Maggie Beare’s grandchildren. They are largely seen on a huge TV screen which interestingly doubles as a window on the set, and their zoom interactions tell another whole story about contemporary family life and the trials of technology. The set is generally a bit odd with its see-through front porch, but the furnishings well define the life and taste of a fading retiree.
A number of voices feature off-stage and, among them, Husain Mataza must be credited with a definitive portrayal of classic Mumbai call centre characters.
Mother and Son is a longish show. It is not hilarious and nor is it meant to be. Rather, it is amusing in the vein of touching triste. The high spot of humour is delivered in a gem of a cameo appearance by one Sandy Whitelaw as old folks home resident, Monica.
If people at cross-purposes and manipulative old seniors are your cup of tea in a divertissement of sleekish production values by a great old Adelaide theatre team, this is the play for you.
Samela Harris
When: 22 to 30 Nov
Where: Arts Theatre
Bookings: adelaiderep.com
Ben Francis Entertainment. One night Only. Shedley Theatre. 21 Nov 2024
What a privilege.
That is my foremost thought on being part of the audience for Ben Francis’s Elton John bio show.
What an immense entrepreneurial outreach it was. A one night only “preview” show, an out-of-town try-out run. And, Wow!
Francis, aged only 24, already is a celebrated name on the Australian entertainment scene for his spiffy The60Four productions, four brilliant singer dancers who met back at school performing vast tropes of 60s pop songs to sell-out houses.
Here, he goes out on his own, but in the company of handpicked creme-de-la creme of his generation in the form of a fabulous band, switched-on techs and back-up gals to die for.
The show shone with the eye for detail and the general finesse of the big time.
Razzle-dazzle lighting and visuals, gorgeous fun costumes all over the place, grand piano downstage with and five-man band on a raised dais... The aesthetic balance was as well planned as the content and the wealth of vivid projections swept the audience into a sense of the big time.
Keyboard man Marco Callisto did the musical direction with Francis, on vocal arrangements of course. The polished band consisted of guitarists Jake and Jason Dawson, Will Burton on sax and James Nisbet on drums. Ray Cullen did the show’s visuals with Ethan Hurn on lights and Craig Williams on sound. Tia Rodger and Trish Francis sorted out the array of costumes which mirrored the Elton John life story while Carla Papa choreographed the show including, outstandingly, the three backup singers - Tia Rodger, Lily Horton-Stewart, and Emma Pool. Now, these dancer/vocalists were a little show of their own, cleverly adding another element of stage action for the audience while enhancing both the music, the spirit, and the narrative. I’ve never seen better presentation of backups. Ever. Carla Papa is sterling. And so of course is Ben Francis in a performance of extreme physicality as well as high focus. His Elton bio script was thorough and enlightening, and also moving. And, as well as carrying the narrative, he performed all the songs in that amazing many-voices of his. Talk about range.
He’s calling out for audience feedback to enhance what is hoped will, deservedly, be a mainstream production of this show.
My twopence might be to somehow share the narration to lighten the load and perhaps cull out a lesser-known song or two, to tighten the length. Otherwise, like the rest of the preview audience, I stand in wild ovation.
Ben Francis is a mighty showbiz force with which to be reckoned.
He will go far.
Samela Harris
When: 21 Nov
Where: Shedley Theatre
Bookings: Closed
State Theatre Company South Australia. Dunstan Playhouse. 19 Nov 2024
The stage is dimly lit as we enter the theatre. Actors roam the elevated space, partially clothed, performing their warmups; mouths yawn, lips flubber, bodies twist and stretch. The heaped curtain lies across the stage as pieces of the set are rolled around. It’s all a bit grubby looking. As they pull on their costumes, mud and dust appears to hold the fabric together. The heap of grimy curtain flaps and rises, the actors come to attention, the show begins.
There is quite an art in re-imagining another author’s work and using the perspective of another character to do so. Peter Carey’s novel took Charles Dicken’s Great Expectations and twisted the plot a little, turning the shadowy figure of Abel Magwitch into the primary character of Jack Maggs. In Carey’s version, Maggs (Mark Saturno) returns from the Australian penal colony and is now looking for his ‘son’ Henry Phipps (Pip), the urchin he has sponsored into London society. Unfortunately, while he has somehow managed to become a wealthy freemans, he was sentenced for ‘the term of his natural life’ so is risking all by returning to England.
Samuel Adamson’s script has turned this around again, bringing to the fore Mercy Larkin (Ahunim Abebe), housemaid to grocer made good Percy Buckle (Nathan O’Keefe). Mercy becomes the narrator in this production, declaring all previous versions of this story to be lies, and she is here to tell us what really happened.
It’s all a little odd at times, with the cast breaking into bursts of song at odd moments, and it’s not always clear where we are. However, the performances are enough to distract until we catch up; Saturno is a powerhouse from the moment he walks on stage, and O’Keefe is in his element, wavering between social climbing aristo and slightly camp, fawning nouveau riche ex-grocer.
The author Tobias Oates, a thinly disguised Dickens, is played as a self-seeking, arrogant opportunist by James Smith, and there are some delightfully farcical moments between him and O’Keefe, and there are literary easter eggs aplenty.
When Maggs, who has come across Oates and Buckle while searching for Pip, is struck by a kind of tic douloureux, Oates, as a student of mesmerism, does a deal to heal him, thus becoming privy to Maggs’ secrets while he is under the hypnotic trance. He intends to use the secrets as a basis for his next book.
Dale March, Rachel Burke, Jelena Nicdao and Jacqy Phillips take on multiple characters as the play collects all the threads of the story and ravels them into a mucky theatrical cloth: the actors work hard with what is sometimes a fairly dense script.
It's easy to characterise this as a ‘play within a play’ but that’s not really the case here. It’s more that the Director Geordie Brookman has taken various theatrical forms – the Victorian stage, vaudeville and some decidedly post-modern devices – and exposed the artifice of the play and the simple but ingenious art of production. Actors stand side of stage blowing bird whistles; changing characters move in and out of scenes with the adoption of a hat or coat, wardrobes become front doors and carriages.
Nigel Levings’ lighting appeared to work with the grit and grime of Ailsa Paterson’s set and costumes. To be fair, it was difficult to ascertain all the effects from the front row, almost under the stage (aka the nose hair seats), but the clever use of shadow play and lanterna magica was brilliantly realised.
Peter Carey’s Jack Maggs is a clever re-imagining of Charles Dicken’s Great Expectations, and Samuel Adamson and Geordie Brookman have pushed that envelope out a little more, with the Macy Larkin character diffusing some of the relentless masculinity. The literary landscape is ripe for interpretations such as these; State Theatre has done well to bring this one to life.
Arna Eyers-White
When: 19 to 30 Nov
Where: Dunstan Playhouse
Bookings: statetheatrecompany.com.au
Red Phoenix Theatre/Holden Street Theatres. The Studio. 26 Oct 2025
Irish playwright/screenwriter Martin McDonagh’s work for stage and film is redolent with incisive black humour. Suddenly daring audiences over the hill of unsettling plot surprises and somehow despite it all, to laugh even if choking back or silently inner giggling.
Hangmen centres on a momentous historical moment in UK history. End of capital punishment; the noose, hanging, was partially introduced in 1965. Made fully permanent in 1969. Meet them. Visit their twisted world. Twisted morality. Twisted humour.
Managing balance of absurdist darkness and light in McDonagh’s script, along with its pacing is Director Nick Fagan’s humongous challenge. Too dark and fast, lose the impact. Too slow and lighter in levity, also lose impact as well as meaning. It’s a hard ride to balance and he manages it.
Fagan gets the gist of Hangmen in the crucial first scene on which so much to follow is dependent, the last fatefully stuffed up execution Harry Wade (Brant Eustice) and assistant Syd Armfield (Jack Robins) carried out. A young lad later found to be innocent.
A black, challenging scene, it sets the tone for the production.
Banter between Hennessy (Trevor Anderson), protesting his innocence and Harry Wade cajoling, then viciously subduing the doomed man is wickedly absorbing. Play like yet appalling in its ordinary, yet artfully delivered, laughter inducing, bent cheeriness.
They’re quite a piece of work these former Hangmen. Harry Wade particularly, reigning supreme in his noose adorned pub, monstrous ego suborning cobbled together sympathetic locals; Deaf Arthur (Greg Janzow,) Charlie (Leighton Vogt,) stylish gin tippling wife Alice (Rachel Dalton) and moody daughter Shirley (Finty McBain).
Distinctly powerful pall of jovial morbidity emanates from Wade’s glee laden preening pride about his former profession and status. Permeates his every sledgehammer delivered word, even if meant in easy going bar jest. Lies leaden over all assembled, with the exception of old comrade Inspector Fry (Russell Slater.)
The world in Act One is bleakly chilly even if Richard Parkhill’s lighting offers a delicious warm hued wash over the set and upbeat tunes of the 60s play in scene changes.
Ennobling death at hands of “servants of the Crown, “deserving of circumspection and quiet self-counsel is a sickening thing to ponder even if such pomposity is absurd in its hilarity. Especially when Wade gives a newspaper interview to Derek Clegg (Tom Tassone).
Cracking the façade of this world is an equally arrogant, quite bitter, dangerous witted pub blow in Pom Peter Mooney (Joshua Coldwell.)
In Mooney, McDonagh has an anti-Wade type. Or is he? Mooney denies he and the Inspector know each other. Berates locals even as he sits apart from them. Shatters the power structure of the pub. Certainly doesn’t kowtow to the Hangman.
Coldwell’s Mooney is magnificently equal to Eustice’s Wade. They pass very pointed barbs in Act One, but no more. After Mooney has had a chat with Shirley and suggests a later catch up, she heads out ahead of Mooney.
Act Two is rapid paced with an edginess obliterating heady self-congratulatory, boorish, selfish and controlling darkness of Act One in which Wade pulls every string.
Armfield’s guilt over Hennessy has manifested itself fully. He knows Mooney. Mooney knows he may be suspect over Shirley’s disappearance. Is he?
Wade’s Hangmen code of security is suddenly violated.
In essence, law or lawlessness become intertwined in a confusing battle mired in judgemental controlling vengefulness.
No matter how dark or dire Act Two gets, as the clock ticks down to a final moment, McDonagh is still pulling out blackest, absurd humour. The great, very angry Hangman Alfred Pierrepoint’s (Gary George) rage over Wade’s describing him as smelling like death is the most brilliant comic counterpoint to a most shocking hidden moment.
The absolute absurdity is the point of Hangmen. Death as law. Absurd. Celebrating its demise while lauding it. Absurd. So absurd it needs to be funny to see just how absurd it all is.
David O’Brien
When: 24 Oct to 2 Nov
Where: The Studio, Holden Street Theatres
Bookings: holdenstreettheatres.com
Windmill Theatre Company. Space Theatre. 11 Oct 2024
Tardigrades: microscopic, eight legged, segmented micro-animals. Also known as waterbears or moss piglets, tardigrades are incredibly resilient, able to survive extreme conditions such as dehydration, starvation, extreme temperatures, extreme pressures, radiation and exposure to outer space.
In a South Park episode from last decade, Jimmy and Timmy enter waterbears into the South Park Special Ed Science Fair. Nathan and Mimsy try to sabotage the project by trying to kill them but unfortunately, it just makes them stronger. Oh, and they dance the hokey pokey.
With Moss Piglet, Windmill have tapped into the fascination with tardigrades (check out tardigrade tattoos on Reddit and Insta); eschewing the adults who have made them ‘a thing’, they’ve gone for that audience that’s even more delighted with small, small things. And just as in South Park, these moss piglets prove to be very, very resilient.
Two scientists (Gareth Davies and Dylan Miller) receive a moss piglet in a petri dish, and being scientists, they conduct experiments upon the tiny creature. It is subjected to desert conditions, arctic frosts and is plunged into the deep sea. Finally it is sent into space. Each time the hapless pair believe that it has died, it reconstitutes itself, ready for its next adventure.
A narrator, voice suitable for the most likely of science documentaries, takes us through the early stages of the show until we are up to speed. Two points in science need be made: not all scientists are men, and not all scientists are nerds (though this latter point can be debated).
It is all quite a remarkable premise on which to base a children’s show, but it works. This is as much due to the technical expertise of the Windmill crew as the subject matter itself. A back screen on Meg Wilson’s simple ‘laboratory’ set hosts projections where we see the tardigrade through an emulated microscope; the round ‘screen’ becomes a window for us to see the worlds the microscopic creature inhabits. Seamlessly the audience is able to transfer their attention from the stage to the round screen. Video and AV Designer Michael Carmody creates deserts, tundras and oceans, all beautifully lit by Chris Petridis and Richard Vabre.
At the front of the stage is a small mast, perhaps a metre high. It is not intrusive, indeed it is largely overlooked until minispots provide the lighting and the backward facing camera picks up the scene… suddenly there is a whole new dimension in the action to observe, a close up face cam and later on when in space, a spinning gravity free astronaut. This is a perspective which has clearly been experimented with, added to the cast (so to speak) for its ability to give an entirely different view of proceedings, and it also assists in keeping things moving along. There is only one instance in this performance where the audience attention wandered, and it was so obvious it was palpable, but within a minute things were back on track.
Luke Smiles provides the soundtrack for this production, and who could fault his choices of America’s Horse With No Name for the desert scenes or Bowie’s Space Oddity as we blast off into space?
The moss piglet itself is represented multiple ways: as a wriggly little creature on the back projected microscope; a small puppet crawling through the desert; an even larger one (okay, a human sized actor quickly jumping into a mossy piglet suit) and finally a larger than life creature to close the show. Because of the multiple perspectives in seeing the performance none of this change in scale seems strange or confusing. Only the appearance of a Volcano God doing some kind of salsa dance seemed odd and slightly forced; an attempt to show moss piglets could survive in some of the harshest environment, yet not perhaps in fresh lava fields.
The scientists, Davies and Miller, also take on multiple characters, including playing the moss piglet, and this keeps the audience intrigued as to what will happen next. The only slow spot in the show was the underwater scene with jellyfish, delightful but slightly dragging. It did however, seem to prove that tardigrade can survive even the sting of the man-o-war jellyfish.
It picked up immediately as the piglet zoomed into space, again with wonderful tech work to place the tardigrade inside the rocket ship with the astronauts. A fitting technological climax, our tardigrade hero clambers from his glass bowl home, joins the astronauts on their journey through a change in scale, and blasts off into space accompanied by the oohs and aahs of the audience, who are completely captivated by this new adventure.
Director and Co-creator Clare Watson (along with Elena Carapetis and Gareth Davies) has achieved something quite remarkable if we consider this adventure in the wider sphere. Bringing science and kids together at a theatre show about tiny bugs is quite the achievement. That it holds the attention so completely is testament enough. Clever, thoughtful, experimental and super fun. But wait; that’s not all! A good number of the kids were delighted to find an interactive display in the foyer outside the theatre after the show.
Arna Eyers-White
When: 11 to 30 Oct
Where: Space Theatre
Bookings: ticketek.com.au