TAMARAMA ROCK SURFERS’ ‘I WANT TO SLEEP WITH TOM STOPPARD’ dissected by me

Ah…Toby Schmitz. I mean if you were going to stalk someone’s professional career, it’s most likely going to be Toby Schmitz. Just ask the teenage girls and their teacher in the front row on opening night of his new play, he’s hot (property) right now. I even hear they’ve got a Toby Schmitz picture of the week that goes up on the noticeboard outside the Drama rooms so I can only imagine their excitement that the writer was sitting there, in the audience, two rows behind them. OMG, I can hardly breathe. They’ve been Schmitzed.

It was a pleasure to be at the launch of his new play ‘I want to sleep with Tom Stoppard’, directed by Leland Kean, artistic director and CEO of Tamarama Rock Surfers, a company that has been producing top quality independent theatre and new Australian works for years and now has two venues in which to showcase that work, the Old Fitz and here at the Bondi Pavilion. Tamarama Rock Surfers is Schmitz’ company of choice to produce his plays and I’m not surprised- they serve the voice of the writer whilst respecting all those involved in bringing those words to life.

Let me paint the scene of the opening night. Actors, strewn throughout the audience, hugging each other like old friends, catching up on news. Scruffy, confident men and casually glamorous women, all out supporting theatre and its players and then hitting the bar like an aphrodisiac. How many practitioners of their craft would so readily spend a night off to go to watch someone else practice theirs? It’s one of the wonderful things about actors that they are there, armed and ready to cheer (admittedly, sometimes only superficially) colleagues and competition and it’s also one of the reasons you have to excuse them from mostly not being able to openly criticise each other about their work. The dangers of alienating the community you reside in…ooh…actors know conflict and tension and they’re not afraid to use it.

Schmitz’ certainly knows his audience and his community and this play pulls upon the experience of working in it professionally for the last 15 years. ‘I want to sleep with Tom Stoppard’ tells the story of Sarah, a middle-aged actress, and the debris left after she joins her younger actor boyfriend at dinner with his parents. In this unravelling, we are left to ponder the role that theatre plays in society as well as what is theatre and under all of that, what happens if you give up on your dreams and who are you doing that for? There are great moments where the play pokes fun at itself as it criticises kitchen sink dramas but makes no disguise of the fact that it is exactly that. No metaphors here. There are questions in regards to marriage, sex, fidelity, generational differences and the power of imagination with a vege garden… Complex stuff indeed.

The knowing guffaws from his audience were, I imagine, a relief to the writer and director. The tongue-in-cheek commentary of Schmitz’ voice echoes through every character at some stage in the play. It had a touch of Berkoff, a smattering of Williamson, a nerdish reference to a history text book and a dash of Shakespeare, all stirred in the clear and resonating ideas of Schmitz.

There’s a lot to enjoy in this play. The standout star of the play, Caroline Brazier as Sarah, was probably the most impressive part of the production. Her formidable presence, towering confidence and ability to seduce, hunt and destroy all the other characters on stage in the simple glare of an expression or an emasculating and direct line of dialogue was captured in Brazier’s performance. The stage was left with a wake of crying, destroyed men, father and son both rejected in their sexual desires and Sarah’s closing lines, brilliantly and deliciously delivered. This is beautifully contrasted in the maternal role of Jackie, played by Wendy Strehlow. Protector vs Predator. Strehlow’s grip on that zucchini in the end after denying her husband’s advances was a lovely highlight. And the lines in regards to the screaming dildo-wearing Three Sisters…didn’t I see that play? Didn’t we all. Tom Stokes as Luke and Andrew McFarlane as Tom were also great casting choices but this play feels like it is unashamedly all about Sarah and Brazier made sure that we never forgot it, in all the right ways.

Kudos to lighting designer, Luiz Pampolha. His triptych of lighting stakes captured the big tableaux of the play with beautiful comic timing. Jeremy Silver’s sound design accompanied by the original soundtrack of the Ironwood Chamber Orchestra created mood and status in this location and the set design of Natalie and Vanessa Hughes, especially with their ability to project the shadows of conflict at the end, create the rooms of domesticity and privacy, especially in the hobby room of model ships, enhanced Schmitz’ ideas with appropriate realist sophistication.

The more I reflect on this show, the more I like it. It’s very, very good. There are some small flaws in writing that suggest it’s got another re-write in there that will happen in time. The references to the gay son still feel a bit random, dad’s ‘ocker vulgarities’ at the start don’t quite ring true with his verbose deconstruction of the role of theatre in contemporary society and the parents still feel like they are characters painted as a young man would perceive them, especially in their fight at the end.

Kean’s direction strongly respects words and performers. He’s brought the best out of this fine piece of work. Maybe I would make Tom a little less jittery at the start to contrast his discomfort in the second half but these are minor details in what is essentially a great night of entertainment.

Once again, independent theatre is leading the way and this is another play well worth seeing if you can get a ticket. If not, may I suggest a noticeboard with a weekly picture of Toby Schmitz. And a zucchini.

STC’S ‘FACE TO FACE’ directed by Simon Stone and dissected by me.

Everyone is always keen to know when it comes to Simon Stone…did she hate it, like it or love it? I’m in the middle on this one. In fact, I really liked it and generally give it the thumbs up but I do have some problems with it (of course).

I’d like to firstly give a note to STC: enough with the European-inspired plays looking at middle-aged women, lonely and repressed, spiralling on the path to a nervous breakdown.  I mean really, enough. I’m starting to think that if I’m fairly well-balanced, I’m missing out on something.

‘Face to Face’, adapted from Ingmar Bergman by Stone and Andrew Upton, is the story of Jenny (Kerry Fox), a psychiatrist whose life soon manifests into her own breakdown as she is forced to deal with her issues- mainly towards her absent husband, her maligned dead father and the trauma of a recent attack.

Some of the content of ‘Face to Face’ is incredibly sexist and it prompts me to quickly go through a dumbed down version or backlog of some of Stone’s work that I’ve seen.

Baal: Man who seduces and then kills women when he wants out of the relationship.

Thyestes: Men who kill and abuse women to seek revenge and assert power.

The Promise: Woman who has to make a choice between two men and picks to stay with the man she doesn’t love out of duty.

Strange Interlude: Woman who chooses to marry a man she doesn’t love to get over the death of a man she did love and then falls in love with another man that she can’t have until he wants her and thus she no longer wants him, eventually loving no-one but her child.

The Wild Duck: Man leaves wife because she ‘trapped’ him into marriage as she was carrying another man’s baby he believed was his. Child (girl) then commits suicide because her 'father' has rejected her.

Oh look…I could twist it anyway I like to prove a point I suppose. Certainly not all works are violent towards women but the essence of it is there. Women, especially strong, intelligent women, are abandoned by men and only succeed in relationships when they fulfil the duty of carer and not lover, as voiced in the play by Wendy Hughes’ character, Aunt, when she talks about finally being happy in her relationship now her husband has lost his mind and needs full-time care.

And if you don't live that role? Cue mental institution.

I will say, I’m sure not all of Stone’s work falls into this theme but I was interested to see how much of his work does seem to fit. Obviously he didn’t write (or re-write) them all but it seems to me he is attracted to this kind of material. Or have I only just naively been enlightened to the fact that strong, independent  women on stage must go mad or die because women are their best selves when they suppress their own identity to fulfil a subservient role in the duty or dedication and care of others?  Or, worse still, did I miss the memo in contemporary society that this is not just art and literature but it is, in fact, modern life? Oh dear. No wonder people hate me. I absolutely don’t belong. Warning: assertive woman on the loose. Call the psych ward. Note to self, throw out your copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’. It’s a lie.

I suppose this idea was crystallised for me in the rape scene when Jenny, in rushing to the aid of her patient Maria (Anna Martin), Jenny is attacked in the street and is the victim of an attempted rape. The rape is abandoned as she is “dry and useless”. It is one of those moments of incredible humiliation that Stone crafts so well, his power play of the theatre. So when Jenny later remarks to Tomas (Mitchell Butel) that she wanted the attacker to rape her, she longed for him, well…that just sat in my gut and it was very hard to reconcile. Maybe because I’m a woman I view these things from a very different perspective, even on stage, and it doubles the humiliation for the character- the powerless of the rape and then being abandoned by him. What message are we delivering or am I just being overly sensitive to it?

Maybe it was the undertones of the material that characters like Tomas confess, even in their attempted seduction of Jenny, that his only real love was a man (the implication being that women are the second prize).

Oh- enough with the content and let me talk about why I pushed that slightly aside and actually enjoyed the show. This show is an ensemble triumph and Kerry Fox is outstanding as Jenny. When she confesses her memories of her father, through her wails and tears, I was genuinely moved. Fox brings an integrity to this role and plays it with such truth in this fragmented stylistic play.

The cast, in a variety of roles, swim in and out of the dreamlike vignettes, and capture these moments with sophisticated intentions and context. Butel ( a firm favourite since 'Strange Interlude') has such a beautiful manipulation of skill and focus and his conviction in every word and action is evident; John Gaden, Hughes, Dylan Young- all the cast are a strength in Stone’s direction.

So let me compliment Stone on his control of style in ‘Face to Face’. I enjoyed the dream weave of scenes, changes in locations, leaps in narrative that then become heightened in the second half when the design becomes static but time and characters move with fluidity in and out of the space. It’s clever staging and so kudos to set and lighting designer Nick Schlieper for the incredible lowering of the hospital set (yes, in a glass box…well….it’s part of the territory so why fight it). Its ability to weave scenes through the entrances and exits and convey all the shifts and dream sequences with such clarity gave Stone a terrific template in which to bring his vision to life.

I enjoyed this show and would recommend it. But be warned all my middle-aged female friends, you will writhe in slight discomfort in some of the content and I’m not sure it was all consciously written that way. However, the stylistic choices and Stone’s direction work well, the design and use of the stage I thought were completely appropriate and used thoughtfully (unless you hate the movement of actors and set pieces during scenes) and the acting first class.

And if you take the Benedict Andrews’ bingo card, it even works here for his protégé Stone.

Two directors. One card.

A win.

LA BOITE & GRIFFIN’S ‘A HOAX’ directed by Lee Lewis and dissected by me

This play has something engaging about it, especially in its narrative. Rick Viede has written quite a clever play and it’s probably a worthy winner of the 2011 Griffin Award. It tells the story of the fake autobiography and the public’s insatiable need for the ‘misery memoir’ and the more graphically disturbing and shocking, the more we love it. It’s an examination of exploitation, ambition, transformation and power.

The script is good- well worth a read if you don’t see the show. It’s got a couple of jumps in narrative so at times things are suddenly revealed or change and we don’t feel like the shift was adequately signposted but I’m not sure whether the minor flaws are in the writing or in Lewis’ style of directing.

I’ve seen a few of Lee Lewis’ shows and her style seems to focus on sucking the emotion out of the first half (an attempt at Epic style?) by playing things almost presentational over representational. This means there seems to be a connection lost between audience and characters early on, dialogue can be hammered out at a million miles an hour and delivered (with her design choices) in monotonous, discordant force or like a clinical transaction. Lewis saves the pathos for the end, contrasting the choices of the first half. I guess (in a Mother Courage and Her Children kind of way), Brecht would have suggested it was to focus on the ideas and not the catharsis of the characters’ journeys. But I think the ideas are caught up in the journey of those characters and by distancing myself from the stakes for those involved, it actually takes away some of the power of the narrative and its ideas.

But I do see the satire of Viede’s work and the absurdity of the situation itself and Lewis has played on the heightened sense of ambition and drive of the characters with some success. It just feels like it’s not always in control because sometimes, too much is just too much. And this is certainly evident in some of the acting. If you don’t let vulnerability creep in till the end, that is a hard ask for any role or actor and there is certainly varied success in this show.

It takes a while to warm to Miri/Currah (Shari Sebbens) at the start. We then see her transform into the role created for her (as Currah) but the reality is we don’t sense any tension from her situation until she really is abused. Sebbens has energy and intensity but is played as unlikeable, even as she dances around the hotel room in childlike excitement. So as she is played as ambitious and hard from the first moment, her transformation is lessened.  I think this is more a reflection of the directorial vision that Sebbens’ skill as a performer.

Glenn Hazeldine as Ant does try to bring a gentleness to his role that is contrasted later by the dark and distressed obsession he has trying to regain control of his work. Hazeldine is the strongest of the cast and his years of experience are evident.

The two roles that feel out of place in regards to interpretation are Ronnie (Sally McKenzie) and Tyrelle (Charles Allen). Tyrelle’s bouncy flamboyancy at the start, the gay queen archetype, suddenly shifts to a much more sinister, unhinged role and then to the man in control of all of the other players on stage. It was a difficult transition to reconcile (writing or directorial?) I don’t know if I believe his behaviour and hatred of Currah can be so tied to his actions because he felt betrayed by her lack of authenticity. However, it did provide us with what I would consider to be the most powerful moment in the play as he pulls out the shotgun and proceeds to abuse and terrify those on stage and kudos to Sebbens and Allen for thoroughly committing to that difficult scene.

It is in that moment, after laughing about the contrived abuse, we are forced to engage in the heightened brutality of ‘real’ abuse. I think Allen did a solid job trying to reconcile the polarising attributes of this character and perhaps because the role felt more functional than real, this is exactly what was asked of him.

But it is the role of Ronnie, played by Sally McKenzie, that missed the mark. McKenzie’s hysterical portrayal of Ronnie- in crisis, in control, in negotiations, was played with little clarity. The archetype was pushed even further into the realm of ridiculousness and therefore we weren’t given the opportunity to relish in her role or function in the play. All you saw was the uncontrolled or disconnected hysteria. So it is not until the end when she starts to manipulate Ant do we see the potential was there to play any other stake than butch mercenary or victim of a hysterical breakdown. It felt like missed opportunities for Lewis and McKenzie to realise the dimensions that could have been accessed in this role.

All in all, I did enjoy this show. It’s not perfect and maybe I’ve been a bit hard on Lewis and the text is harder to realise than I could know.  But there is a lot here to enjoy and the controversial and current issue is food for thought, with the intimacy of the Stables a good venue for ‘A Hoax’.

O’PUNKSKY’S THEATRE’S ‘THE SEAFARER’ at Darlinghurst Theatre

I don’t think it’s a secret that I am partial to Irish plays but I only discovered Conor McPherson’s work a few years back after watching ‘Shining City’ at Griffin. Since then I’ve devoured many of his plays and was really looking forward to seeing this show, one of his more ‘upbeat’ plays, if you can believe Irish theatre has such a thing.

McPherson, like many of his Irish contemporary counterparts love a twist and a turn and a tilt and just when you think you’ve figured it out, another tilt for good measure.  ‘The Seafarer’ tells the story of two brothers, irascible Richard (recently blind after falling into a skip…) and Sharky (his reluctant carer whose own life is in tatters). The brothers are ‘celebrating’ Christmas Eve with a poker game with old drinking buddies Ivan and Nicky and a stranger from Sharky’s past, Mr Lockhart who’s back to collect his own debts. If you can imagine a boys own adventure, combined with elements of farce, folk tales, a bit of mythology and the supernatural, all set in the mess of the cold sitting room long neglected, you’re on the way to picturing ‘The Seafarer’.

O’Punksky’s Theatre Company are an independent theatre group well-known for their staging of Irish plays that showcase their skill and passion and celebrates the camaraderie of this very talented bunch of actors. If ever there was a reason to support Independent Theatre, O’Punksky’s give you a wealth of reasons. And ‘The Seafarer’ is one of those reasons.

I’m going straight to the cast because it is the ensemble nature of the performance that most strikes you about this production. These guys are having fun, relishing running into lamps, blindly hitting the staircase, savouring the shifts in power, the language, the drinking and even the crusty bits of toast clinging onto their jumpers. As an audience member, when you see a cast inside the play and the characters, having fun with each moment, you can’t help but enjoy it too.

Director Maeliosa Stafford, who also stars as Richard, talks in the program about the difficulty of “directing from the inside”. And it would have been a challenge- I’ve yet to see anyone really master it. I think that it’s almost impossible to have your eyes completely on the play when you’re in it and if I had one criticism of the show it would be that the rhythm sometimes lagged and it needed a kick in pace in moments (and this is backed up by a program that promises a 2 hours and 10 minute show with a 20 minute interval and ends up taking 2 hours and 45 minutes). I think a full-time director in this regard would have probably tightened the show.

However, Stafford’s Richard was marvellous. He’s the sort of character you want to embrace and slap at the same time. There is something wise or insightful about Richard in the glimpses of lucidity he enjoys between his barking commands and alcohol induced intentions. Stafford captures this beautifully, in language, physicality and personality. The ability to play ‘blind’ is incredibly hard, to keep focus and energy in this role but Stafford never faltered. His comic skills were some of the best I’ve seen and I would think that this will probably be one of Stafford’s favourite roles to play in his extensive career.

Patrick Dickson as Sharky is stuck in the straight role for most of the play and this can present its own challenges- always the martyr and never the master. But Dickson played the conflict and hopes of Sharky with belief and gave freely to the ensemble for them to use his character as a springboard for their own characters to jump off and swim in the pool of comedy.

And then my favourite character, Ivan, hopeless but dependable, played with such humour by Patrick Connolly, was such a treat in this show. It’s hard to believe Connolly only graduated from acting school 5 years ago because he tackled this like a seasoned professional. The rest of the cast could have been dancing naked around that stage when Connolly’s Ivan was buttering that toast with such intensity that I couldn’t have focused on anything but his actions. And he had plenty of them. Gorgeous work and perfectly cast.

John O’Hare bounced on stage as Nicky and brought a slickness to that role that I hadn’t imagined when reading it. In the play he is described as ‘a skinny, nervy appearance…wearing a tatty-looking anorak and threadbare grey slacks that are slightly too short for him, revealing white towelling sport socks..’ but costume designer, Alison Bradshaw’s choice to make him a little more kept and an edge of sleazy in his leather jacket and jeans I think worked really well and served as a contrast to Sharky, especially as both men care for the same woman. O’Hare finds the dimensions of naivety and ambition of Nicky, making him a cross between a player who hasn’t mastered the game (of life and poker) but always thinks he will. O’Hare is infinitely watchable and the energy he brings to Nicky and the scene changes the whole feel of the stage. He is a generous performer.

And that brings me to William Zappa. Anyone familiar with Zappa’s work will know he is a fabulous actor. I will never forget his outstanding work in Albee’s ‘The Goat or Who is Sylvia?’ Zappa gets to have real fun in this play and he clearly enjoys each moment. He gets the joy of being the catalyst of change for many of the others on stage and shuffles those stakes with the professionalism we have come to expect from him as a performer.

I don’t often spend reviews giving intricate details of each cast member (but it is easier with a cast of just five). But I do it for ‘The Seafarer’ here because what was obvious was the generosity of its ensemble to let every actor take their moment, to serve the play and not the actor and the respect these guys have for each other is obvious. And that’s the beauty of Independent Theatre at its best- you get to enjoy the collaboration of a team you can put together yourself, who all want the same things and all feel they have ownership in the final product.

So a few technical thumbs up to finish: what a great set, designed by Amamda McNamara and painstakingly constructed by members of the cast and any friends they could convince to come and help them; Nate Edmondson’s sound design of the blaring storm happening outside (and inside) the house, complemented by Tony Youlden’s lighting design.

Honestly, this show won’t disappoint. It’s probably a little longer than it needs to be but the integrity of what’s happening on stage will keep you engaged.

Go and support some great indie theatre and do yourself a favour.

STC’S ‘THE HISTRIONIC’ directed by Daniel Schlusser and dissected by me

Two names: Bille Brown and Barry Otto. You would think that would be enough to go to the theatre and see a great show. You would think that the skill of both of these fine actors would knock this one past the boundary, over the fence and into the faces of the excited crowd.

Well, if you were thinking that, you would be wrong. Once again, Sydney Theatre Company have found a way to kill off their ageing demographic by sending them into a boredom-induced coma. That might also explain why it was one of the smallest audiences I’ve seen in Wharf 1 for a while.

And look- it’s not the actors, designers or director who’ve sent them to an early grave, in my opinion.  It’s Thomas Bernhard’s script as translated by Tom Wright that feels like the guilty party.

STC- what is going on? You are not having a good year. Everything that looked good in theory seems to be only two-dimensional in performance. ‘Histrionic’ took me back to last year’s ‘Edward Gant’- all the pieces feel like they should fit but they just don’t.

So let’s look at why it didn’t quite work.

I think it’s chiefly the script. Bernhard’s play is in response to his experiences on stage in Austria and it is written as a personal criticism of its petty government authorities as well as a self-deprecating examination of his own idiosyncrasies. Bernhardt has clearly placed himself in the centre of his writing in the role of Bruscon (played by Bille Brown) as he rallies against all the things that annoy him (which happens to be everything). I learn more about Bernhard that I do about anything else in this play.

Bille Brown does a terrific job in trying to bring life to Bruscon. The problem is the play doesn’t allow much of a journey for the character so his ranting and raving, so beautifully physicalised by Brown, lacks tension or complexity. He hates the town, he hates the stage, he is annoyed by his wife, his son, his daughter, people, lights, curtain, food… We don’t get to see him truly vulnerable, outside of a heightened tantrum or in any real conflict because he’s always in conflict. There is a lack of variety in the way the character has been crafted (by Bernhard or Tom Wright?) so that all Brown can do is give us his best performance skills and hope it is enough to mask that Bruscon is just a bit of a whinger.

Add to that, although the play has seven characters, it is essentially written as a monologue so the other characters are given idle busy work in feeding Bruscon reasons to complain or tasks in which to try to keep him happy. It’s a play pretending to be an ensemble piece but in no way is. It should be a one-man show- in fact, it would have been far more interesting if it was. It would give an actor the chance to create for us these other characters on stage, transforming and using his skills far more artfully perhaps that trying to sustain this thin play for one hour and forty minutes.

It’s such a pity to have assembled a lovely cast in a play that gives them such a little amount to do. They certainly did the best they could, wandering around the stage moving props on designer Marg Horwell’s set. And she gave them plenty of great things to play with- headless horses, huge hands, big ticket items. The set was all you could want to have some fun and to create a place of disrepair, a place long past its prime like an abandoned playground. This, of course, added to the metaphor of Bruscon himself.

I don’t think the cast could have done anymore with the script than they did. So I can only presume director Schlusser has pushed them all to embrace as much energy and comedic potential as the script allows. The only time tension potentially drew me in was in the quasi-sinister moments between Bruscon (Brown) and his daughter Sarah (Edwina Wren) as the very nature of their relationship suggested some sort of unnatural and abusive alliance was in place. But this was never really pursued so we felt nothing fulfilled its promise.

And that’s where the big problem in the script seemed to lie- when it seemed to want to take you into dark, uncomfortable places, it wimped out on itself and went for the potential laugh. I know a script can tread both of these waters but this one didn’t quite fulfil either. It was an anti-climatic punchline to the joke it hadn’t quite set up properly.

So all I can say is this: Bille Brown is a very good performer.  The cast kept themselves busy and gave an expressive performance in Brown’s background. The design was very interactive. The costumes were colourful.

It’s a shame they couldn’t have been given something better to work with.

BELVOIR’S ‘Death of a Salesman’ directed by Simon Stone & dissected by me.

I’m trying to come up with a word or phrase to describe Simon Stone’s directorial style. So far all I have is ‘Ditexter’ for his ability to take the text and rework it to fit his brand. But the phrase that’s winning at the moment is ‘capsule director’- I think Stone likes to close his characters in to deliver their inner monologues and heighten the microcosm of the dilemma using any kind of capsule- a shower, box or in ‘Salesman’, the car. The metaphor becomes literal. Welcome to the world of Simon Stone and welcome to his latest offering, Arthur Miller’s ‘Death of a Salesman’.

Simon Stone probably has the reputation as Australia’s most sought after and employed director. I’ve had plenty of time to ask myself why. His fingerprints are all over each show he directs. There’s no disputing that ego is a driving force in his work- sometimes wonderful, sometimes disastrous. He favours stark, gritty theatricality over naturalism. He wants to be an auteur of works more than be contained in the role of playwright’s director. And just as he loads his vision onto each play, off he hops to his next project, empirical style, trusting his cast and team to realise his concept.  And then I got it. What is Simon Stone’s smartest move as director? It’s to choose an outstanding cast to realise whatever vision he creates and to make it work.

‘Death of a Salesman’ is an interesting choice for Stone as he doesn’t normally choose a work he can’t ‘retextualise’ and Arthur Miller’s estate are pretty clear about changing the text. You can’t. Not a word. But by gee, how you stage those words, they are up for grabs and enter the capsule director, Stone.

Obligatory plot paragraph: ‘Death of a Salesman’ is the story of Willy Loman and his two sons, Biff and Happy and the conflict between the domestic and national values of a post WWII world. Whilst the success of an individual hinges on material gain, what happens when your sons can’t live up to your expectations and neither can you? That’s a simple overview but cuts to the heart of it.

If you are familiar with the play but not the production let me tell you that the only set device used in Stone’s interpretation is an old Ford Falcon on stage. Scenes are played inside, outside, on top of, around, in front, behind the car, etc. It’s done with natural and sometimes broad Australian accents and it’s set in modern times. Those not familiar with the play, Miller has it set at the time it was written, post WWII, mainly in the Loman household in suburban Brooklyn, USA.

I will tell you what I missed in this production- I missed the house. It wasn’t detrimental but I realised how much the play depends for me on that house. The American Dream seems tied up in that house. But I didn’t mind the car. Sometimes the entrances and exits from the car felt laughable- like characters conceived in the car emerging to fulfil role and function but when Colin Friels as Willy Loman is in that car, Stone’s capsule comes to life. I will admit to doing several of my own inner monologues in my car or rehearsing great conversations (with no-one in particular) in the sanctity and privacy of a moving vehicle. The car still worked for me. Didn’t love it but it worked.

I missed the appropriate accents, particularly as words can’t be changed it meant that cultural and time specific anachronisms were present throughout. We refer to particular years like 1928 and then we pull out an iPad. It’s strange and sometimes alienating until you settle into the groove of the show.

And this leads me to ask the question: is setting it in contemporary Australia giving it a new life and perspective or is it imposing a vision that doesn’t quite gel with this classically American play? As I’ve often said before, plays contain cultural codes that sometimes are very specific to the country. For example, would ‘Summer of the Seventeenth Doll’ work if you set it in mid-America in 2012? Although the thematic concerns of ‘Death of a Salesman’ are transferable, I don’t know that the cultural context is in the same way. Giving it an Australian flavour does not necessarily make it an Australian play.

Here’s what I didn’t mind in Stone’s interpretation- the exclusion of the end scene. I always felt that after the demise of Willy, that last requiem scene felt redundant (hope I haven’t spoilt the plot…I’m hoping the title was already a giveaway). That last scene can feel didactic and Stone’s choice to omit it probably gave more importance to the man than the death. Of course, the death is meant to teach us that we can so easily be a victim of the times and it may get a little lost without the last scene but I think the rest of the play delivers that message clearly, especially with Colin Friels behind the wheel (literally).

So let’s talk about the incredible performances put in by Stone’s cast. Let’s start with Friels. The intensity and passion of his portrayal of Willy Loman was one of the most outstanding turns I’ve seen in Sydney this year. Loman is one of the most challenging acting roles- full of contradictions as he shifts from present to flashbacks, as hero to broken man, from his prime to long past it, from joy to anger and back again. Friels gave it everything. He was a powerhouse of emotion and pain. I’ve never seen anyone do this role with such integrity. Bravo.

Patrick Brammall and Hamish Michael as sons Biff and Happy were beautifully cast and gave those characters real depth. Brammall’s torment at the crossroads of feeding his father’s expectations and hopes as opposed to vomiting out the truth and abandoning the whole charade was exceptional. His ability to go from young Biff to disillusioned man meant that Brammall gave Friels the strength of interplay that you require in such a role. Michael’s Happy served to contrast this with humour and gentleness.

The rest of the ensemble gave wonderful cameos- special mentions to Luke Mullins in his variety of roles, each of them distinct and skilful; Pip Miller’s Charley, gave us another layer to Arthur Miller’s concept of fathers, sons and the Dream as did Steve Le Marquand. Blazey Best also filled the stage with energy in what were such crucial small roles. Genevieve Lemon also had plenty of wonderful moments as Willy’s wife, Linda. I just felt the constant teeth-clenching acting needed moderation. I know that sounds harsh because really, she was present in intensity and integrity throughout, but the fact that she spoke through her teeth constantly drove me a little insane.

So, in essence, I did enjoy it. I didn’t love it but the quality of acting made me glad I saw it.

The lighting and sound were so ingrained into the show, I honestly couldn’t tell you any specifics about it and there’s something quite wonderful about that- there’s a whole soundscape and atmosphere being created that is so subtle and complementary, it’s integrated completely. Now that’s good technical work.

I’ll contemplate this production a little more and decide whether Stone is just lucky or a very clever man (in a monologue to myself on the car trip home).

IRELAND’S ABBEY THEATRE DOUBLE HEADER: 'Jerusalem' & 'The House'

Just for a moment, I’ve gone global.

On the way to the International Research Drama Conference in Limerick, I popped into the Abbey to see what was happening there. The Abbey Theatre, Ireland’s national theatre in Dublin set up by W.B.Yeats and Lady Gregory in 1904, has a clear rationale- to actively engage with and reflect Irish society, to place the writer and the theatre artist at the centre of all works.

I love that concept. I know the debate here in Australia in regards to a national theatre has gone on for decades. Apparently we don’t need it and more importantly, where would we house it? When I see what the Abbey has achieved, it makes me think the debate needs to rage again… Has it really come down to the meagre offerings of an annual David Williamson play at the Ensemble theatre or for Simon Stone to now be the chief writer and director of appropriated works? We have so much Australian talent amongst our writers that struggle for a platform for development and expression. It’s time to rethink what we do in a country that is four times the population of Ireland.

The Abbey Theatre is also one of the friendliest environments you’ll ever visit in regards to a theatre experience. How’s this for an experience. I arrived just before the show opened (I got held up by a schools carnival parade of the national hurling competition- I kid you not) to buy a ticket with my friend at a premiere of a show. They couldn’t seat us together so they gave me a free ticket to make up for it. I found myself sitting next to the Head of Public Affairs and Development, Myra. We start chatting about the play we are about to watch. I’ve read it, she has not. We discuss the act of interpretation. At interval I sit at a table next to other audience members, strangers to me, who kindly offer me chocolate (I never say no) and we chat about the show. Just before the second half starts, Myra and I chat again about the show and then at the end, she invites me to the premiere party, introduces me to the General Manager, the Education Officer, and the Head of Communications and quickly they are offering me two free tickets to see the Tom Murphy play the following night (Ireland’s Tom Murphy, not to be confused with Australia’s Tommy Murphy).

And here’s the thing, I’m just a random theatregoer who seems to know a thing or two about theatre and they genuinely care about what their audience think. This is not an environment where your thoughts are belittled or your status be considered more important than your conversation. I mean...imagine it…they talk to audience members like they matter. Well Sydney could teach them a thing or two. We’ve been so full of our self-importance for so long we’re in danger of disappearing up our own proverbial. Shake off your snobbery Sydney and start to get dirty by mixing with the people. Sydney, I love you but you just have to stop believing your own PR.

The first show I saw was Jez Butterworth’s ‘Jerusalem’. Those familiar with the play know that is English and not Irish, full of English mythology intertwined with the violence of wasted chances and youth, lost aspirations, memories of grandeur and the banished and forgotten social classes.

‘Jerusalem’ is set on St George’s Day, the morning of the local fair. Johnny Rooster, the play’s antihero (like Mac the Knife from Brecht’s ‘Threepenny’ if you will) has been served an eviction notice to clear out from his illegally parked caravan in the woods and the drug dealing guardian of the youth of the town as well as absent father now must deal with the imminent arrival of tractors to destroy his home, the men of the town who wish to do him harm, his patchy memory induced by big bender nights, his thieving crew and a son who wants to go to the fair.

‘Jerusalem’ was performed in their small theatre, The Peacock, by the Silken Thomas Players, an amateur group who won the national amateur theatre festival and part of their prize is the chance to perform on the Abbey stage. Can you believe it? It reminds me in a small part of the days when Belvoir downstairs did not have to be tied to the Belvoir Company but independent work could showcase there. Here’s my challenge to someone out there in theatre world- why not have a competition that allowed amateur independent work to perform and the winner gets a spot in Wharf 2 at STC for a 3 night run? I’d be interested to see it. Wouldn’t you?

One of the many things you’ll fall in love with in Ireland (please note, it is not the weather) is the culture of expression through the Arts. This is further enhanced in the National Youth Theatre program. Performing is not specifically aspirational- it is for the love of it and a binding ritual of community and neighbour. It’s truly a wonderful thing.

I did see this on its opening night and the nerves where clearly effecting the cast, particularly the lead Liam Quinlivan as Johnny Rooster. But by the second half, he and the rest of the cast were settled and hitting the notes of the show.  A special mention to Colin Malone as Ginger, who from the very start shone in talent and energy. Director Sean Judge is to be commended for creating an honest and skilled interpretation of text, performance and utilising Jonathan Judge and Brenda O’Toole’s set in creating the world of the play.

The following night we saw Tom Murphy’s ‘The House’. Originally staged in 2000 it was having another run on the Abbey’s mainstage. Tom Murphy is a national icon and yet I don’t think his work is performed much outside of Ireland. However, his writing has heavily influenced many of Ireland’s contemporary writers that we are familiar with, such as McDonagh, McPherson, O’Rowe, Walsh. He’s a writer of the slow denouement, taking his time to unpack characters, narrative before building to the hopes and dreams and pushing them over the embankment. He’s not fancy but he is poetic. Structurally the writing feels deliberate in its inclusion of the Irish folk songs, the settings, the differences in class and gender. His plays feel like historical examinations of those that stay in Ireland and those that are the diaspora. This means that at times his plays feel like they are taking a long time to go somewhere and an edit or two wouldn’t go astray but with the outstanding acting of ‘The House’ on display, you’re happy to persevere and be rewarded.

What I find most interesting about Murphy’s work is this notion of the emigrant or diaspora, especially as Ireland’s population probably shows the least amount of growth (like Greece) over the last century- in fact it’s fallen, even with a high birth rate. Many of the population do emigrate (I blame the weather). So it begs the question, when you return to visit, is the country and its customs alien to you now or is it like coming home? How do you fit in? How do you leave again? How are you treated upon your return, especially if there’s ill feeling towards your departure in the first place? What's it like to enjoy familar voices but feel like the words they say are strange to you? All of this was found in the layers of ‘The House’.

Cast were impressive. Eleanor Methven’s mother was superb, Karl Shiel’s Goldfish, Declan Conlon’s Christy- a great ensemble cast and completely invested in their performances.

One of my favourite moments of the play was when Declan Conlon’s character Christy (remember him from ‘Terminus’ last year?) started singing a traditional Irish love song (in the pub of course) to Marie (Cathy Belton) and the audience started singing along. I honestly felt like I was sitting in the audience of 'The Sound of Music' in that end scene when the Von Trapp family are singing Edel Weiss and the audience sing with them. Don’t get much of that back home I can tell you.

The production was lovely- slow but lovely. But the pace is imbued in the writing and director Annabelle Comyn has kept the integrity of the writing in her staging of the show. Beautiful acting abound and a superb versatile set, designed by Paul O’Mohony that created a myriad of locations that placed us all in the 1950’s- a decade desperately clinging on to the past with a faction fighting for change and progress and all at odds with each other.

‘The House’ reminded me, like ‘Jerusalem’ how our mythology, customs, speech, language and culture are embodied in our arts, especially our writing and how we need to engage with these narratives in our own country. I know I bang on about this like an old, tired drum but if there is a limited investment in our writing community, the legacy of our theatre will feel very thin over time. I know we have embraced this post-dramatic form and it has many wonderful things to recommend it when done thoughtfully but don’t throw the writer out with the glass box.

One of the things that watching the theatre of Ireland made me conscious of is that the work starts there with the writing. The author is king and from there they appoint a creative team appropriate to bring those words to life. They don’t have to impose vision or techniques to reinvent the words or text. It has its own importance and has been drafted and worked till it is ready for staging.

Here in Sydney we are all too aware that the director is king. The words are a platform for the director to stamp/impose their vision all over it and that necessitates often the re-writing of the work, the abandoning of anything old world and often the set is thrown out in the mix too. I know my critics will brand me as a traditionalist here but I will say this: I’m ok with whatever you want to do but when the director is so present in the work, it can be like deja vu every time I see his or her work. I’ve seen 5 shows presented by Belvoir theatre this year and 3 of them have been directed by Simon Stone and he is evident in every moment of them. You’d never think of staging 3 plays by the same author in a season (overkill) but if you are going to make the director king, it’s the same thing.

So let me finish by beating that drum one more time. Australia- invest in your writers and maybe even a National Theatre Company to do this. Productions are transient, beautiful images of life, here for a season and then only recalled in a deadened one-dimensional video recording or in our memories. Writing lives on to be reimagined again and again (or re-written by the next wave of directors) and unconsciously fuses politics, culture, language, customs and beliefs of our national agenda. And that is something far more interesting to pass onto each theatrical generation than an explosion of blood and flour on stage- don’t you think?