STC’s ‘THE SPLINTER’ directed by Sarah Goodes and dissected by me

‘The Splinter’ is a commissioned work, written by Hilary Bell and one of the few local original works staged at STC this year. Directed by Sarah Goodes and acted by two skilled actors (a duo of Thomson’s- Erik and Helen) ‘The Splinter’ is a cross between a fractured fairy tale, gothic horror, heightened realism and visual fantasy.

‘The Splinter’ takes the idea of the lost child but unlike other dramas of this nature, like Matt Cameron’s ‘Ruby Moon’, or Bryony Lavery’s ‘Frozen’, the child (Laura) returns, nine months later, mute, fractured, mysterious. The play then delves into the dark psychological consequences of the gap in time, the hopes combined with guilt and fear and the effect of the ‘ghost’ child on her parents’ marriage and their relationship with her. All of this is conveyed through the surrealist theatricality of the stage- technical and design shadows of disturbing doubt and a sparse script that leans towards the troubled recesses of the mind more than large relational exchanges. And that it is going to be a huge challenge for any collective- to capture what is between and inside the lines to fully convey the complexities of the volatility of clawing at the hope of happiness and normality, to find moments of truth inside fantasy, belief and theatricality side by side whilst moving from a physical into a mental absence of reality.

Conceptually, this play is interesting. But the production, I think, is not completely realised. I’ve dubbed it interesting boring. I really like the staging. I’m really appreciative of the skill of the actors, the writing, the puppeteers, the design, the light and soundscapes, even the direction. It’s just that there’s very little tension on stage and the chemistry between Helen Thomson and Erik Thomson is not there. And that makes me feel like they’re not completely inside the beats and words of the script. Yet, I am big fans of both of them as performers. I wonder though whether the combination just didn’t come to fruition on stage. As a result, there’s a lack of belief in their relationship and their feelings towards Laura and so the stakes are missing. Do I care what happens to the child in the end? Not so much. Am I meant to? I think I am somewhat. I’m expected to sit outside realism and in this heightened world but I still have to be invested in the parents’ emotive responses to what they perceive as the dangers of psychological splintering in order to engage in the ramifications and consequences of drowning in the darkness of fear and terror, especially as it moves more into fantasy, it needs to take me inside at the start before separating me from this world by the end.

So before people start telling me I don’t understand theatre and that this play is not ‘realism’ and therefore affords a different approach, thank you. I do understand. I’m not after catharsis, a purging of emotion. I know the play works on expressing an idea using the elements of the stage. But part of that is a reference to every parent’s nightmare- the loss of a child, the loss of naivety in regards to the safety of our own neighbourhood and the fear that things will never be the same. Inside that lies moments of truth, in marriage, relief, affection, doubt. Time has been erased, life stood still for a fraction of time but how does it now continue? These parents are still grieving, even though their child is back. There is still loss, anger, denial, bargaining. And conveying that with some homage to belief is what drives a sense of dramatic tension then heightened by the visual mise-en-scene. If the relationship between them doesn’t quite ring true, the journey is all about the theatricality and not the players in it. These are not archetypes- they are people on the edge of a breakdown. In fact, they dance around it only briefly before diving head first into it. And that requires moments of intense connection with the emotion and with each other.

OK- so, aside from a lack of chemistry and tension (and thus why parts of it felt to me it was boring), here are some the elements of the staging that tempered that and made for an interesting viewing of techniques:

Most obviously, the puppetry. Julia Ohannessian and Kate Worsley, under the direction of Alice Osbourne create some powerful images of the porcelain child, an image of the fragility of the girl now in the home as opposed to the lively adventurous girl who once lived there. The scenes of the tea party, the hair brushing- all add to this eerie affect.

Renee Mulder’s sparse set to compliment the text and its style is effective in adding to the atmosphere of this gothic inspired narrative. I love the curtains, blowing in the wind- as if a cyclone could tear down this home at anytime. This is further enhanced in Damien Cooper’s lighting, keeping the stage in a constant feeling of dusk- symbolic of the family’s state on the edge of paralysing darkness. Then throw in the composition of Emily Maguire and Steve Francis’ sound design and you have a technical proficient ability to create a world reminiscent of the original inspiration for the script, Henry James’ ‘Turn of the Screw’.

There are so many visually stunning aspects to 'The Splinter' that for that alone, you will engage in the technical creation of Bell’s script. Just be aware, if you are wondering why it didn’t resonate more with you when there were so many interesting things about it, I’m guessing it’s the patchy chemistry and tension.

But go and see it and decide for yourself. It may just have been the show I saw. You be the judge.

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).