[2010046] Inanimate Meets Rage

Inanimate Meets Rage

The Box City Theatre Company @ The Tuxedo Cat – Studio

8:30pm, Wed 24 Feb 2010

So – a chap I work with… well, let’s just call him The Hippie. Because that’s exactly what I do call him, as factually inaccurate as that may be. (And, curiously enough, this post marks one of the first times I’ve ever typed his name – and, oddly enough, I didn’t know whether I should go with “Hippy” or “Hippie”. I asked him which he preferred, and he gave me a look of mystified I-don’t-give-a-fuck-I-hate-it-anyway; so, a quick trip to GoogleFight has me plumping for The Hippie, reflecting the fact that he’s a contrarian bugger at the best of times).

Anyway, The Hippie is in a position where he signs my Staff Leave form, and as I submitted my application for time off over ff2010, he remarked that a friend of his was putting a show on. “Get me the details,” I said, “and I’ll try and squeeze it in.”

Thus, Inanimate Eats Rage became the centrepiece of this evening, the first show Scheduled: the one around which all others revolved.

Later, as I chatted with The Hippie just before knocking off work for the Festivals, I happened to ask: “So… how’s your mate coming along with his show?”

The answer filled me with a bit of trepidation – and excitement. “He’s had to do a fair bit of work,” The Hippie told me, “something to do with OH&S. He’s had to build a cage.”

And so the image of a cage is foremost in my mind as I wander into TuxCat’s Studio, taking a seat in the second row (as directed by my occularly-challenged companion). The Hippie and his Better Half are down the back, having a good laugh; Edwin reaches across the throng and tugs at my sleeve to say hello. The room is packed, the mood is jovial and expectant, and onstage is – yes – a cage. Well, more of a chicken coop, anyway, with the tight wire mesh wrapped around the structure.

And it appears, soon after starting the show, that we’re witness to an anger management session… with a twist. Our Hero has engaged in a little bit of road-rage and, rather than being treated with soothing tones and calming actions, he’s subjected to a ranting “therapist” who verbally assaults a front-row pacifist hippy (not The Hippie, but a more hipster version thereof) and encourages the venting of aggression. And into the cage they go, awkwardly donning safety specs before smashing the shit out of old stereo components, computers, phones… whatever. But these (often protracted) displays of violence against the inanimate, whilst bloody funny to watch, become almost cartoonish because of the safety requirements surrounding them – the elaborate cage, the insincere glasses.

A female patient introduced into the session about halfway through ups the ante significantly; the extra voice onstage raises volumes, raises tempers, and it becomes a very loud and violent affair. The finale owes more to Pulp Fiction than anything, with blood splatters accompanying the computer keys that had hit the front rows; an almost orgasmic climax to a show that revelled in rage.

Unfortunately, I had to dash off to my next show, so there was no time to mingle & chat with the cast & crew. The Hippie’s friend turned out to be writer/director Malcolm Sutton, who apparently founded The Box City Theatre Company in the UK before returning to settle in Adelaide; the flyer for Inanimate Eats Rage proudly states that it’s the company’s “first production outside of the UK” – The Hippie joked that it was probably their first production, full stop. Joking aside, the flyer also mentioned “think Quentin Tarantino meets Monty Python and you’ll be on the right track” – and that’s broadly accurate. But I’d also throw The Young Ones into that mix – the latter half of the show descended into a very anarchic, shouty blur, with extravagant – almost grinningly indulgent – violence a-plenty. And, believe me, that was a very good – and satisfying – thing.