Category: ff2009

Adam Vincent in Adamland [FringeTIX]

Adam Vincent @ The Tuxedo Cat

7:00pm, Sat 28 Feb 2009

I first saw Adam Vincent waaaaay back in 2006, and remembered thinking “check him out in a couple of years.” He was on the shortlist last year, but illness saw me bail out of the opportunity to catch one of his shows; this year, however, I felt compelled to make good my (internal) promise.

Now, the Tuxedo Cat was a hot and stuffy room at 7pm – clearly, the heat of the day had not yet dissipated. So when Vincent appeared onstage wearing a suit (looking very much like a younger, thinner, taller version of my accountant), I began thinking of how much he’d be suffering (bam). Of course, the other two barbs of a triple-pronged attack were the generally dead crowd (thwack), and the fact that maybe half that crowd was family and friends… including his Dad (bocko).

But Vincent did his best regardless. Opening with some charming material about his Mum bricking kittens, he followed up by introducing Adamland – that place in his head where all the weird ideas are. There’s a tale or two about his ability to cope with violence, his predilection for looking in other people’s windows (“it’s not creepy if you have momentum”), and a delightful use of Bambi as a metaphor for the clitoris.

And that last bit is where Vincent’s act doesn’t really gel for me; he’s a relatively quiet comedian, kind of like a gentler(!) Adam Hills. But he never really runs with the joke, never takes it all the way; he’ll venture somewhere crude (the Bambi/clitoris thing, or his pissing-in-the-shower bit), but seems content to revel in the giggles obtained from the crassness of the phrasing. There’s no second act to his jokes, and for some reason I’m expecting one.

Throughout the show, he keeps mentioning that, if his comedy career doesn’t work out, he’ll have to keep up his “other” career as a nurse. Whilst I’d hate to see that happen, he needs to get a bit of depth into his material – because, as a one-shot or shock comedian, I’m not sure he’s gonna cut it.

Planting the Dunk Botanic Gardens [FringeTIX]

Big Toe Productions @ Holden Street Theatres (The Arch)

2:00pm, Sat 28 Feb 2009

It’s an oddball sort of description for a play: “Mark O’Connor’s passionate fight to plant an Eden on Dunk, challenged by time, cyclones and fellow man.” In retrospect, I have no idea why this even made the shortlist; I suspect it was due to my confidence that Holden Street wouldn’t let me down when it came to quality theatre.

I needn’t have worried.

With an audience that looked more likely to be watching Gardening Australia than a Fringe matinee, there’s an amusing little slideshow as the lights drop, informing us to switch off our mobile phones – lest they be mulched. And then David Malikoff takes to the stage; his is a quiet, yet potent and dignified presence, and he begins to tell the tale of the Dunk Island “Botanic” Gardens.

His initial spiel mentions the three Gardeners of Dunk: Ted Banfield, who essentially inspired development on the island; Mark O’Connor, the author of the play (present in the audience) and a one-time resort gardener on Dunk; and God as the ultimate gardener. This lead me to think that there would, then, be three acts to the performance, focusing on each of the Gardeners in turn (potentially leading to some unwanted religious pouting in the third act); this was not the case, however, as we are only privy to the work of O’Connor in the transformation of the Island’s resort gardens into exotic havens.

At times, it devolves into plant-centric technobabble – incomprehensible to me, but strangely compelling and soothingly rhythmic. But the occasional slideshow (beautiful flora!) with lovely soft jazz-esque background music breaks things up, and there’s plenty of other characters at the resort to provide both comic relief and conflict; the tale becomes a battle with both man and Mother Nature, with O’Connor’s final day on the island one of frantic planting and passing on of ideals.

It’s a polished production: a gripping story, plenty of laughs, and Malikoff is fantastic narrating O’Connor’s tale. As I mentioned above, I’ve no idea why I shortlisted this one (since my green thumb is actually a gangrene thumb) – but I’m glad I did.

Best of the Edinburgh Fest [FringeTIX]

Jason Cook, Jariath Regan, Mike Wozniak, Eddie Ifft @ The Governor Hindmarsh

7:45pm, Fri 27 Feb 2009

Escaping the city and its opening night crowds, I popped out to The Gov for one of the Fringe regulars – the (maybe fancifully named) Best of the Edinburgh Fest. Now, I have grave suspicions as to the legitimacy of that title; but it matters not, because a great time was had by all.

Jason Cook is the MC for the evening, and – quite frankly – was absolutely fucking brilliant. His loud, but affable style gets everyone on-side from the outset, with charming crowd banter (and the requisite mocking) and a real feel-good delivery. Tales of hometown gigs, conversations with other Poms in the audience, and crowd warm-up exercises were brilliant. Usually, the MC at these shows is the weakest link; not in this case, however. Even his return interstitials were exceptional; he completely won me over… I’d pay good money to see him in his own show.

The moment Jarleth Regan (or is it Jariath? I don’t know, so I’ll use both) comes onstage, the energy level drops substantially. Much more reserved than Cook, he takes a while to warm the crowd up, breaking through with tales of parental tech support (his Dad’s first photo message from his phone is a corker). He closes out his set with a quick run-through of some of his greeting cards, which really are piss funny. All-in-all, a really well paced set from a likeable guy.

Looking – and sounding – like a moustached David Attenborough on speed, Mike Wozniak blasted through a fast-paced set, tackling risqué topics such as medectophobia and mega-foreskin with a clean, clinical approach that, combined with his manic style, was bloody funny.

After a short interval (and more banter from Jason Cook), the “headline” act appeared: Eddie Ifft. Now, Eddie was the only one of these comics that I had seen prior to tonight, and I remember him being a bit crude – but in a good way. Unfortunately, a lot of the more… ummm… socially unacceptable rough edges have been filed off his act, replaced with bog-standard “wacky shit about Adelaide” stories. Sure, he still dips into the gloriously obscene (“people often ask me why I quit drinking. I tell them ‘because I’d get drunk and FUCK KIDS.'”), but moments where you consider checking your laughter because of the social implications are sadly few and far between.

None of that really matters, though, because Jason Cook carries the night. Even if the other comedians present had been dead weight, his efforts would have still made this a quality show; the fact that they all had moments of pure hilarity just makes Best of the Edinburgh Fest a gem.

Everynight, Everynight [FringeTIX]

Darren Hassan & Company @ Adelaide Gaol

8:00pm, Thu 26 Feb 2009

After a cancellation leaves Everynight, Everynight my sole show for the day, an impromptu boozy dinner leaves me pretty cheery when walking into the old Adelaide Gaol for this, an adaptation of the Ray Mooney play; possibly not the best mental state to be in when watching a play about the debasement and humiliation of prisoners.

It’s a grim tale – we’re introduced to the prison hardman, Bryant, and his mate Barrett, and stand in a cramped cell corridor whilst we watch Barrett be repeatedly beaten and ridiculed by three Officers of the prison. Not a hand is laid on Bryant, however; his importance in the smooth running of the prison is evident from the outset, and expounded in dialogue later. The audience takes a short walk outside to the exercise yard, where we encounter young Flannery – who is summarily accused of assaulting another prisoner and sent to H Division – the maximum security wing of Pentridge. There, he is indoctrinated into the ways of H Division through prolonged beatings and humiliation (being stripped and raped).

Eventually, Flannery “resigns from the human race,” claiming that the rules and regulations no longer apply to him; he wins the support of Bryant (and hence, most of the rest of the prison population), and instigates an uprising within the prison, resulting in an ultimately unsuccessful, but damaging, Royal Commission into brutality against prisoners. The prisoners’ revolt – prior to Flannery’s stand, the unbroken law within the prison was to never dob anyone (even the screws) in – had massive repercussions inside the prison.

So – a pretty interesting story, I reckon. And the Gaol certainly makes for a decent setting for the performance (although I tend to think that a few more flourishes in the staging would’ve been nice… how about positioning the audience / actors above / below each other?) But it was a pretty hot and sticky night, and once we were all eventually seated within “H Division”, there was no airflow – resulting in a slightly uncomfortable experience.

Another problem – for me, anyway – was that the long, narrow corridors in which the play was performed were acoustically ratshit. Echoes, high frequencies triggering my tinnitus, awful. But – and it’s a big but – this was still a quality production; the acting was generally excellent (though Damien Carr was weedy as Flannery, Gary Harrison absolutely nailed the solemn menace of Bryant), and direction solid, if unimaginative. So quite why the insolent little shits in front of me refused to clap at the end of the performance, I don’t know. The twats.

Speaking of which… it’s important to note that I am completely au fait with profanity; those even only moderately acquainted with me know that I swear like a fucking trooper. No word is off limits to my spoken vocabulary; I guess what I’m saying in a very roundabout way is that I drop the C-Bomb a lot. Not a problem to me. But I recognise that, despite Sex In The City‘s best attempts, it still remains one of the few words that carry any level of taboo today, and – when writing, at least – I like to keep it tucked away, ready for when I really need that extra little bit of impact, of oomph.

So it’s a real treat to realise that Everynight, Everynight seems to be on a bloody-minded mission to drop the C-Bomb as often as possible during the show… in fact, I’d wager it outnumbers “fuck” and, indeed, any other word in the show. Initially, there were a few gasps and pulled faces from some audience members; but by the second act, it was second nature to them (and, speaking of audience-related giggles, it was damn funny to hear the young lasses behind me (previously intimidated by cockroaches outside) scrabble to catch a glimpse of Flannery’s cock when he was stripped. More gasps there ;)

In short: decent theatre, well performed, slightly odd location. Solid Fringe.

Tarnished [FringeTIX]

La La Parlour @ The Spiegeltent

10:00pm, Wed 25 Feb 2009

I was thrilled, when compiling my shortlist, to discover that Tarnished was returning; I adored that show back in 2007, and needed no coercion whatsoever to whack it into The Schedule.

But here’s the thing, though – the show is more-or-less exactly the same as it was two years ago. So go read that post instead.

Now, you may consider that a Good Thing or a Bad Thing. For me, it’s a very very Good Thing: Neridah Waters is still drop-dead gorgeous, a beautiful cheeky smile that makes me melt a little inside; Tigerlil and Kellie Vella still donate a gob of circus to proceedings; and Imogen Kelly’s bathtub antics are still a hoot… and an eyeful. And there’s still crotch angle-grinding, perfectly-pitched banter with the (mostly female!) audience, the weird bubble-gum segment, and some lovely tongue-in-cheek theatrics.

But, most of all, it’s still fun – you come away thinking that these girls have a ball up there (dodgy staging this evening notwithstanding), and I’d be very surprised if there was a single grumpy person in the audience by show’s end.

It’s still an absolutely wonderful performance; and if they came back in another two years… or next year… hell, even next week, it’d still be an amazing show.

Autobahn [FringeTIX]

junglebean @ Garage Bar

7:30pm, Wed 25 Feb 2009

A series of six short one-act plays by Neil LaBute, Autobahn confines each piece to the inside of a car, restricting the movements and concentrating on the dialogue shared between each pair of characters.

This first piece, “Funny,” bodes well; Renee Gentle’s chatty rehab survivor being driven home by her mute Mum generates a few solid giggles. “Long Division,” however, doesn’t come off quite as well – Tim Overton’s manic delivery feels an awful lot like over-acting to me, and I’d hate to have been in the car with him driving… he barely had his eyes on the road during their quest to reclaim his mostly-silent companion’s N64 from his ex. “Road Trip” is a touch uncomfortable, the undercurrent of paedophilia being telegraphed early on in the piece; it mopes and broods for awhile, before a thoroughly creepy climax… a wonderfully measured performance by John Doherty.

After a short interval, we return with the highlight of the night for me: “Bench Seat” is a lyrical tug-of-war between a dating couple parked at a popular lover’s lookout. She is utterly bipolar: flitting between fear of the breakup, and the desire to ram Her tongue down His throat. He, of course, has His heart set on the breakup; but, after She reveals Her obsessive side (by stalking the last guy who dumped Her), He holds back… as the lights dip, the look of confined horror on His face as She snuggled into His chest was priceless. Renee Gentle excels again, and Tim Overton more than makes up for his earlier transgressions.

“Merge” was, likewise, an entertaining bit of work, watching a man strain to contain his outrage and incredulity as his partner – ever-so-slowly – reveals her group-sex transgressions incurred whilst away on travel. But the glacial speed of revelation works against it in this case; I’m already eying my watch, mindful of making my next show. And the final piece, the eponymous Autobahn, was like pulling teeth; every word, every stanza, every rant about the couple’s wayward foster child, was enraging me, because (a) this show was running well over time, and (2) I was arsed if I was missing Tarnished.

junglebean, a collective formed to put this piece on, quite obviously focussed on the car motif – but that didn’t necessarily work that well. Having a mechanic essentially propel proceedings (including the rather ineffectual interval announcement) was a bit of a stretch, but the video screen behind the stage – whilst a good idea in theory – was completely wrong; for one thing, all the footage used to impart motion in proceedings went the wrong way – the “car” onstage was coming towards the audience, so the screen should have been moving away! And, given the distinctly American feel of every play, to have quite identifiable Adelaide streets used in these shots was a little disconcerting, and felt lazy (though, it must be said, the lookout used for “Bench Seat” set the mood perfectly). None of that seemed to matter, though – the packed crowd (friends? family? ex-AC Arts classmates?) loved it, and glared at me as I scooted out (whilst clapping, I might add – I’m no respectless heathen) through the final bow. And, despite the fact that it ran about 40 minutes long (something that really pisses me off), I have to admit that I liked a lot of what Autobahn had to offer.

Poly Hood Cabaret [FringeTIX]

Polytoxic @ The Ringbox

10:30pm, Tue 24 Feb 2009

Hmmmmm. Oooooooh-kaaaaaaay.

“A suburban safari with a coconut twist,” claims the flyer. And, on the basis of other external stimuli, I was under the impression that Poly Hood Cabaret would be a polynesian-tinged Fringe cabaret – you know, a few songs, some acrobatics, a bit of humour. So I was a little surprised when the show opened with a documentary projected onto a screen at the back of the stage, following the “tapping” of a tattoo covering pretty much all of the recipient’s lower body. Lindah E provided a low, soulful backing to this story and, when the screen dimmed and the tattoo that we watched accompanied it’s owner out on stage and up the rope for some acrobatics, the crowd of about thirty-or-so went wild.

Right about now, I was thinking something like: “fuck me, this show is going to be amazing.” Great content, a well balanced audio-visual show… what was not to love?

It didn’t last.

Out trooped the first dance component of the evening, led by Fez Fa’anana. Now, I’ll happily argue with anyone who reckons that the Polytoxic crew can’t dance – throughout the evening, their talent is clearly on display. Unfortunately, it’s being used in pieces that rate off-the-charts on the kitsch-ometer. And I could never really get past that happy-go-lucky, twee-islanders aspect of the performances. There were some other good snippets – a few more acrobatic bits, one decent dance piece – but the bulk of the show wound up leaving me feeling… well, cutesy-sick. Or something – let’s just say it rubbed me the wrong way.

To be honest, Poly Hood Cabaret was on the outer fringes of my shortlisted shows; it was only after seeing Fez Fa’anana, Lindah E, and the hoop act in Club Cascadeur that I figured this was worth a shot. The sad thing is that, aside from the fascinating “Tapping” pseudo-doco at the start of the performance, I’d already seen the best bits. Ah well, chalk this one up to experience, then.

Circus Trick Tease [FringeTIX]

Circus Trick Tease @ The Ringbox

9:00pm, Tue 24 Feb 2009

This is the first time I can recall this venue, The Ringbox, being part of The Garden’s cluster of performance venues; it seems to have inherited some seating from one of the previous venues, varnish on the seats peeling and hard under-arse. Still, in good weather, this’ll remain a pretty bloody good spot – and it appears to be the only venue set up for the circussy goodness that has been missing so far this year.

Circus Trick Tease opens in pretty much the same way as every other circus show I’ve ever seen – tumbling, feats of strength & balance, and little more than cursory attention paid to the audience. That soon changes with Mr Plonk’s sensitive new-age strongman song, following which he manages to lift four women (plucked from the audience) at once. This raises the ire of his “partner” (and the leader of this circus), Tinkle; they fight – then make up in lewd and creative ways – in some of the funniest shadow-play I’ve ever seen… all while their imported talent Ghazanfar “amazes” us with his lame deadpan “tricks”.

Passions between the trio heat up, with both Plonk and Tinkle falling for Ghazanfar – who, at this stage of the performance, has done little more than provide a (sterling!) comic foil to their hot / cold sojourns. Plonk’s pursual of Ghazanfar leads to some wonderful feats of strength; Tinkle’s advances result in some incredible leading to a cheeky display of balance (Ghazanfar balances, on his head, atop an upturned wine bottle perched upon a stack of boxes high above the ground. Spectacular!) The trio collaborate for one final balancing act – all standing tall atop each other’s shoulders – before the love triangle disappears, the boys fleeing the stage, Tinkle left sobbing on the ground & throwing unneeded condoms and flyers for the show at the crowd as they depart, begging us – through her tears – to tell others about the show.

She gets her second wind, though – for some five minutes after the show finishes, the three of them maintain their rage out into The Garden – cue confused looks from other Garden Dwellers, and massive grins from those who’d just been in the show.

Let’s cut to the chase here – Circus Trick Tease was fucking brilliant fun. It’s got enough circussy bits to keep you wowed, more than enough laughs to keep you entertained, and it doesn’t take itself too seriously. And the cast… well, they’re just fantastic. I chatted with The Boys later that evening, and they were wonderfully humble and seemed genuinely surprised that someone would actually thank them for their efforts.

Good people, great show – what’s not to like?

Sticks, Stones, Broken Bones [FringeTIX]

Bunk Productions @ Puppet Palace

8:00pm, Tue 24 Feb 2009

So – Tuesday night, The Garden, puppet show. Empty, right?

Wrong.

A surprisingly large crowd gathered for this performance and, once seated, Jeff the puppeteer appears – a scruffy fella, purring and squeaking noises instead of speech, he soon takes up position on the floor beneath a projector and, using nondescript chunks of felt and foam, makes shadow stories come to life onscreen. And his stories verge on the surreal; UFO abductions, a ninja attack on an audience volunteer, and a wonderful end title sequence created by a puppet hacking through a forrest of straws. Some clever tricks – a rotating landscape that acted as a road for a doof-doof-mobile, and a glorious horse-racing segment – rounded out an entertaining bit of shadow puppetry.

If my jumble of words hasn’t convinced you one way or the other whether or not Sticks, Stones, Broken Bones is for you, check out the video on the Bunk Productions site. That gives you a pretty good idea what to expect; in fact, rather than bash these words out, I should’ve just linked to that video and appended the words “casually charming.” That would’ve been a lot quicker and certainly more descriptive.

Oh well. Live and learn, I guess.

Scarborough [FringeTIX]

Emily Branford & Sebastian Freeman @ Holden Street Theatres (The Manse)

7:00pm, Mon 23 Feb 2009

It’s my first visit (of, no doubt, many) to Holden Street this year, and the first performance I’ve ever seen in The Manse. The performance space is a surprise – little more than a bedroom, it’s a tight squeeze for the crowd of around twenty that have assembled for this, the first of 63(!) performances of Scarborough over the course of the next month.

As we enter The Manse, there’s a pensive couple sitting on the bed, backs to each other; the room is ripe with tension, with sadness. Scarborough (the British seaside resort in which the room is located) is presented in medias res (a term I just learnt today); the opening dialogue reveals a dead relationship, their actions the sad and reluctant goodbyes.

We’re then transported back to the start of the couples’ stay in this room, witnessing the happier parts of their relationship – the joy and the coy. And such is the hook of the production that I’m loathe to elaborate further on the plot, lest I give away the secret; but there’s a reason for Her shyness and seclusion. There’s an honesty in his self-assuredness and perfunctory actions. And there’s a fantastic turn of events that just works.

Acting is first rate, direction within the tight spaces perfectly measured. Problems? Well, I guess there were a few; opening night led to a tight fit inside The Room, with much bartering of dodgy hips and knees for the prized seating positions (I wound up wedged behind a door – awkward when the characters entered or left, but brilliant for one of the penultimate scenes… I basically had both characters spitting rage upon me). And, whilst Sebastian Freeman is perfectly cast, Emily Branford looks just a teensy bit too young for her role… not that I’m complaining. But the gravest oversight was the dialogue preceding the couple’s pivotal altercation; I know my New Super Mario Brothers, and that was most certainly not a “game over” sound. Good job on the “lost a life” bit, though.

Yes, that’s the biggest problem I could find.

Seriously, though, this was an absolutely cracking bit of theatre, and a real credit to all involved. It’s exactly what I want from my Fringe – something thoughtful, emotional, and different.