4:48 Psychosis

Brink Productions / Budgie Lung @ Queens Theatre Stables

8:30pm, Sun 26 Feb 2006

Score: 10

The final work of dramatist Sarah Kane before her suicide in 1999, “4:48 Psychosis” is an intense and brutal piece, written from the point-of-view of one person suffering from a severe bipolar disorder. Named after the time when most sufferers claim to feel both clear-headed and cold, each of the actors adopt an internal mental fragment of the main character, alternating with external characters (most notably, The Doctor).

Performances are superb: Lizzy Falkland carries a fragile nobility akin to Swinton; Elena Carapetis haunts with doleful eyes; Kate Box’s explosion of anger about half-way through the piece was nothing less than staggering; and Roman Vaculik rounds out the psychoses with edge. The fifth star is the glorious set; presented in the round, a foot of sand forms the stage upon which the cast remain, propped by a single chair. Glorious lighting is accompanied by a continuous fine mist from an overhead watering system; the humidity produced adds to the overall intense experience.

The performance itself was made even more surreal when, 15 minutes from the end, an audience member just behind me had some sort of fit (during one of the “shouting” psychoses scenes, no less) and collapsed, to be dragged out by his friends; that certainly added a memorable edge to the play. Brickbats, however, go to the freak who thought that the dropping of the house lights to end the play was a great time to fire off an SMS with his mobile phone acting like a 8 squillion lumen torch. Way to kill the mood, fuckknuckle.

Apparently, the text for “4:48 Psychosis” contains no explicit characters or staging directions; thus, productions vary greatly. The vision shown by director Geordie Brookman (and company) in creating this piece is exceptional; overall, this is an brilliant bit of theatre, and certainly marks a new level in quality for both Brink and Budgie Lung.

Kane herself first attempted suicide by swallowing 150 anti-depressants and 50 sleeping pills; those numbers seem familiar, making me think they were mentioned within “4:48 Psychosis”. A friend discovered her and rushed her to hospital; two days later Kane hung herself with her shoelaces in a toilet. She was 28.

Greg Fleet – Word Up

Greg Fleet @ Nova 1

6:00pm, Sun 26 Feb 2006

Score: 6

Jesus, Fleety. Every Fringe, I find myself saying exactly the same thing: “if only Fleety had the right material, he’d be awesome.” And so I continue to go to Fleety shows. And every time, I come away mildly satisfied – but also mildly disappointed. And frustrated.

After Fleety’s quick bit at the Comedy Benefit, hopes were high – it seemed there was a new, more politicised Fleety on the scene, ready to tackle the big issues and generally mudsling and muckrake. Alas, this show only poked and prodded without any real intent.

Nominally, Fleet claims that this show is about Words – their history, their use, their power. Introducing different sections of the show using a flip-chart – the most memorable section being “How To Talk Pretty While Punching Your Lady Friend” (or: how to become a “sweet talking fuck machine”) – he uses these titles as a springboard for ambling stories and the odd one-liner.

This time, however, he also relies on his daughter for a fair chunk of source material – and gets a few good laughs from that. Some other giggles come from the usual Fleety talking-with-riff-raff routine, and closing out with an extended version of his “I’m More Australian Than Youse” song.

Somewhere amongst the rabble Fleety referred to the ability to use words as weapons. Using that metaphor, this show would be like a blunt cudgel – quaint, pretty, but ultimately harmless.

Fringe Benefit

A whole bunch o’ people @ Adelaide Town Hall

12:00pm, Sun 26 Feb 2006

Score: 7

Whilst proceeds from ticket sales to this gig went to charities (Catherine House, The Magdalene Centre, and The Big Issue), I had an entirely selfish reason for attending this event. See, at the start of every Fringe I create a list of all the acts that I’d like to see, and then try to squeeze then into my schedule, cunningly entitled “The Schedule”. And most comedy shows are on at about the same times, somewhere between 7pm and 10pm. So this year, I thought I’d try to weed out some of the more dubious acts by seeing them in a short-form benefit such as this.

Mags Moore was our MC for the day and, to the groans of many, introduced Jane Lomax-Smith. Thankfully, she read the room well, and after a really short speech we were into the comedians:

• Ian Coppinger provided a solid guffaw or ten; a good opener.
• Peter Helliar & Em O’Loughlin raised a smirk or two, but that’s about all. Actually, “two” might be generous; but hey, it’s for charity.
• Bruno Lucia was an eye-opener; his bit, though mired in italian stereotyping, was well worth it, and the country guitar thingy at the end was bloody brilliant.
• Adam Vincent impressed, with his tales of “quite negative” cat abuse; he described himself as “negative and dark”, which sounds great; but he didn’t seem to excel at either enough for me to warrant inclusion in The Schedule.
• Lehmo’s set (focused on the Bali 9 and Corby incidents) was the best set I’ve ever seen him do.
• Akmal was ace – again, leveraging his ethnicity, but not overtly so.
• Des Clark – mind-boggingly brilliant. Really. One to add to The Schedule. Oh bugger, he’s on at the Governor Hindmarsh. Maybe not, then.
• Fiona O’Loughlin was much better than I thought she would be. Short set, but well constructed.

After an interval, Benefit Director Amanda Blair appeared onstage – despite having given birth at 7:30am, less than 7 hours earlier. She announced that the benefit had raised over $56,000. Everyone cheered. And then we’re back into the action:

• Wil Anderson’s act appeared to benefit from the “early in the day” aspect of the Benefit; he’d not had time to thoroughly pollute his system with neuromodifiers to the extent that he becomes a gibbering idiot. Plenty of re-used material, though.
• Arj Barker appeared a bit flat; that dropped him down a few pegs in the priority stakes.
• Tom Gleeson did surprisingly well; I was expecting him to be crap, but he surprised with a well-crafted bit.
• Maeve Higgins… never heard of her. Gentle and inoffensive, with a lovely accent.
• Justin Hamilton was shit, shit, shit. All drug jokes, and not a single good ‘un amongst them. Ripping off Larry Miller’s “5 Stages of Drinking” bit is unforgivable, doubly so when it’s done so poorly. Ugh, he’s off The Schedule… forever.
• Nick Sun, on the other hand, was brilliant. Self-deprecating, reflective, bloody funny. Added to The Schedule.
• Kehau Jackson was pretty good too, with her tales of mastectomy and whatnot.
• Greg Fleet raised my hopes for a quality show this year: he’s gone all political! “I’m More Australian Than Youse” was a great song, too.

And then Stephen K Amos takes the stage. And suddenly, you’ve forgotten all who have gone before him. The man is, quite simply, a comedy genius; he had the entire audience in fits of laughter, except for maybe his audience mark, Jack. Poor Jack. Poor Jack’s parents, who’ll have some uncomfortable explaining to do. But what a great exhibition of stand-up for the rest of the audience.

So there you have it. Four hours of uneven comedy, but at least it ended on a very high high. And how did it affect my Schedule? One stricken, one added, one re-prioritised. Mission… uh… accomplished.

The Grande Cabaret

A whole bunch o’ people @ The Gaiety Grande (Sideshow Paradiso)

11:59pm, Sat 25 Feb 2006

Score: 6

The Grande Cabaret is, as you might guess, a cabaret consisting of acts that are performing at the Gaiety Grande (within Sideshow Paradiso). And if you did indeed guess that, then you’re one up on me – I had no bloody idea.

Anyhoo, with the show staring a whopping 40 minutes late (at twenty-to-one in the morning), The Von Trolley Quartet provided a splendid musical backdrop for a show MCed by Birdmann, who warmed the crowd up by pouring water through his nose. Strong woman Ella Brawn hefted weights and audience members, Bam Bam provided wry slapstick, Ruby Rubberlegs proved to be really quite flexible, Eric the Robot Dog showed up (sans voice), and Joel Salom performed some excellent juggling… with the help of an audience member.

As previously mentioned, all the acts in this performance are either appearing in their own shows at the Gaiety Grande, or in Sideshow Paradiso’s Tiny Top ($5 for 15 minutes – pretty good VFM). This was a generous and entertaining collection of morsels that couldn’t help but pique interest.

Black Crow Lullabies (Part 2 & 3)

floogle @ Tea House Gallery (Synagogue Place)

9:35pm, Sat 25 Feb 2006

Score: 8

The second piece in the Black Crow Lullabies trilogy, “Eve’s Memory”, is a belter. It’s a touch more elusive than “Nod”, but the three-act script is wonderfully weighted; each passing moment seems to bring additional understanding to the convoluted story, which is almost told in reverse. Again, Patrick Graham puts in a great performance, whereas Sarah Hunt’s Eve wavers between the sublime and the adequate. And it’s really hard to say much more than that; this one has a familiar, yet unexpected sting in the tail which works very well.

(Oooh – I was just reading the script – I never realised that “Eve’s Memory” was supposed to take place in the same house as “one long night in the land of Nod”. Fantastic :)

The final piece in the trilogy, appropriately titled “The Lullaby”, is a more abstract piece again. Stilted language and fractured phrases make this piece much heavier going than the preceding pieces, though it’s in no way less worthy. However, this piece (more than the others) was both benefited and hampered by the intimate space floogle has set-up in the Tea House Gallery; the closeness to Patrick Graham’s performance is fantastic, but it impedes the overall viewing of the piece, especially for those at the back of the audience.

Super-kudos must be given to Patrick Graham – three very different performances within three hours… what a legend! Kudos, too, to the floogle collective in general: hopefully we’ll be seeing much more of them.

(See also Black Crow Lullabies (Part 1).)

Black Crow Lullabies (Part 1)

floogle @ Tea House Gallery (Synagogue Place)

8:00pm, Sat 25 Feb 2006

Score: 9

The first thing I noticed after climbing the stairs to the Tea House Gallery was that there seemed to be a family-and-friends-type gathering for the opening night of the Black Crow Lullabies, put on by young local group floogle. Sometimes this sort of event can generate a tense atmosphere; tonight, however, there was only feelings of goodwill and happiness.

Which was at total odds with the Part 1 of the Lullabies, “one long night in the land of Nod”. Focusing on the plight of two estranged brothers, there was an immediately identifiable country-ness to the performance and set. The troubled conflict between the brothers is also evident in the first fifteen (count ‘em) profane utterances. Actually, “utterances” is completely misleading – they are literally spat at each other.

The script is wonderful, with wild swings allowing the audience to alternate their perception of which brother is “good” and which “bad”. The set reminded me of the kitchen in my Hughes Street childhood home (which, whilst not on a farm per se, was still in the country), and the acting was earnestly spot on: William Allert’s somewhat smarmy Kane versus Patrick Graham’s perfectly pitched “other son”. The end-of-show lighting, in particular, was superb.

And there’s not too much else that can be said about this piece without giving “it” away; suffice to say, this tale of diverging lives and converging fortunes is a corker.

(See also Black Crow Lullabies (Part 2 & 3).)

Under Milk Wood

Guy Masterson @ Union Hall

4:20pm, Sat 25 Feb 2006

Score: 10

After a false start due to technical problems, and with the lesser lights of the O’Ball line-up seeping through the walls of Union Hall, Guy Masterson stands atop a chair – the only prop of his enthralling 90 minute monologue. Snapping flawlessly between 69 characters, he paints Dylan Thomas’ vision of the hamlet of Milk Wood with a wonderfully rich palette.

Masterson roams the entire stage as he recounts the lives of Milk Wood’s inhabitants, earnestly engaging the audience… it’s a very physical performance. His energy rises and falls with the character being portrayed; at times quiet and restrained, then moments later explosive. Some scenes – the children leaving school, Gwennie Gwennie chasing the boys and catching a willing Johnnie Christo – are a delight, full of youthful energy and sheer joy; other scenes feel far more ominous, weightier, sombre; still others – like the wonderful Pughs – are played straight for laughs.

Not only did the performance put on show the characters of this functional (and dysfunctional) town (“this place of love”), it also captured the joy and happiness of the spring day in which it was set; you could almost feel the time of day pass with the performance. Utterly fascinating.

Technical support for Masterson’s superlative performance was limited to gorgeous lighting and a few vocal effects (for the voices of the dead). Though the lighting started out a little sloppy, it quickly tightened up… and the effect of Masterson’s giant shadow on the back of the stage, when used, was sublime.

Yet again in Union Hall, there was rapturous applause. This time, it was richly deserved.

James Campbell’s Comedy 4 Kids

James Campbell @ Queens Theatre

2:00pm, Sat 25 Feb 2006

Score: 7

I admit it: I’m a big kid. Emphasis on “kid” (and “big”). So I felt absolutely no shame in dragging my sleepy arse out of bed and getting it to one of Campbell’s plethora of family-friendly (in content, as well as time) shows. Despite the frankly disturbing photo on his advertising, it was great to see the turnout for the show; there was at least 120 people there.

Campbell has a great stage presence: exuberant, without entering the “try-hard” zone, and easily builds a friendly rapport with the audience. He wins the kids over with tales of tractor video games (a nice little monologue on Grand Theft Tractor); he wins parents over with sly jokes about reincarnation and the girlfriend/fiancé dichotomy; he wins everyone over with his elaborate analysis of emergency numbers, milking dogs, and the answer to What Hair Is For.

Sure, your average four-to-six-year-old isn’t going to get jokes about the Word Bookstore just down from the (glorious) Queen’s Theatre, nor appreciate the gorgeous surrealism of the stepfather cardigan; and they’re certainly not going to care about his humorous bitches about the 2004 Fringe scheduling, nor the prevalence of consumerism in kids shows. And they certainly won’t recognise the tune to “I’m A Retriever”, his closing song which cracked all the adults up. But, whilst my knowledge about the habits of children is thankfully limited, I know that Campbell managed to keep 70-odd children entertained for an hour. And he kept me entertained, too.

Circus Bizarre

Circus Bizarre @ Caos Café

10:00pm, Fri 24 Feb 2006

Score: 7

Circus Bizarre is a good old-fashioned freak- and geek-show – we’re talking old-school freakery here: blockheads, beds of nails, people generally performing stupid acts upon themselves. And it’s pretty entertaining stuff, too.

First act: Cruella (“The Lady of Steel”) MC’s proceedings with a fun, assertive, and generally pleasingly corny style (as well as picking on the typos for “gormet” pizzas in the “Caos” café). She introduces Baby Hanibal, who proceeds to perform the blockhead standard of sticking a nail up his nose. Ho hum, thinks I… but then he removes the nail and uses a power drill instead. OK, that’s got me interested. Cruella lies on a bed of nails, Mr Tetanus (or, as he was constantly referred, “The Super-Masochistic Human Piiiiiiiiincushion Mister Tetanus”) slams his hand in a rabbit trap. From my seat at the back of the Caos Café, I heard the snap of the trap, the front rows of the audience groan, and Cruella croon “oooooh, that’s gotta hurt.” Visually unspectacular… until he proceeds to slam a rabbit trap into his face. Now we’re talking entertainment. Mr Tetanus then pierces his cheeks with a pair of skewers and lifts a six-pack from the makeshift piercings. Ouch.

There’s a short break, then the body abuse really starts. Lifting heavy objects with nipple and scrotal piercings, eating live worms, cockroaches and even a live mouse (apt, given that P&K Pets is sponsoring the show), the appearance of the stunning Matron Lee.

Another short break, then the show is completely stolen by The Amazing Christina, claimed to be the world’s oldest contortionist… surely Cruella didn’t say “sixty-one”? (Website says “yes”). Christina was, quite frankly, incredible. Her act added a wonderful bit of class and finesse to proceedings, and… wow. Just… wow.

And then the run home. Baby Hanibal has 240 volts sent through his nipples whilst holding a chicken fillet on two forks between his hands… was that the smell of cooking chicken or human flesh we smelt? Then a painful scrotal tug-of-war between Mr Tetanus and Baby Hanibal (the former won), and we’re done. Time to catch your breath and assimilate.

Obviously, this production lacks the big-budget polish of something like the Jim Rose Circus – but is every bit as entertaining and, due to the proximity, far more accessible. Recommended.

(Throughout this performance, I sat alone on my barstool at the back of Caos Café, watching the seemingly unhappy man wearing the tell-tale orange lanyard of “the press” (also artists & volunteers, but this guy was furiously scribbling throughout the performance). He really didn’t seem to be enjoying himself much at all. Chin up, fella – there’s only three weeks left.)

The Kransky Sisters: Heard It On The Wireless

The Kransky Sisters @ Union Hall

8:20pm, Fri 24 Feb 2006

Score: 6

Like many others, I first came across the Kransky Sisters whilst channel surfing one Saturday night. Coasting through SBS’ “In Siberia Tonight“, I spied the three sisters performing a most odd arrangement of Mi-Sex’s “Computer Games”. Despite the weird orchestration – tuba, organ and saw – it seemed both perfectly apt, and gigglingly hilarious.

And that’s what drew me to the performance tonight – the memory of a cheeky rendition of an otherwise long-forgotten 80′s classic. And the Sisters didn’t disappoint – after wandering onstage through the audience, they entered a charming story / song / story rhythm, through which they detailed their lives and adventures thus far.

The songs were great – in particular, peculiar renditions of Highway to Hell, The Age Of Aquarius, Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of These); they even delved into the area of mash-ups: Deee-Lite, Pink, and M coming in for some treatment there.

Musically, they’re tighter than a duck’s chuff – though there were some odd harmony issues, but the looks exchanged between Mourne and Eve intimated that either they were staged, or just milked for laughs. The interludes between songs often got a little stilted, but that’s probably a result of their characterisations.

Overall, this was an entertaining hour or so, though I don’t think I’d necessarily pencil the Kransky Sisters in next time they’re in town (I’m not sure their gimmicks would last another sitting). In fact, the cynic in me thinks that this show is simply a concatenation of a bunch of their TV spots. And be warned – their “audience participation” prank is one of the most cruel tricks I’ve ever seen a “volunteer” suffer. Not nasty cruel, mind you, but still…

The Travellers

Fortune Cookie Theatre Company @ Union Hall

6:30pm, Fri 24 Feb 2006

Score: 3

“In the spirit of ‘3 Dark Tales‘”, boasts the ads for this piece.

What a piece of crap.

This piece of Shakespearean tragedy is sublimely presented, with a lovely elaborate set, and the cast are all obviously talented. But whilst 3 Dark Tales created three distinctly wonderful worlds, inhabited by curious and lovable characters, The Travellers proffers a simple tale, which will be boringly familiar to long-time tragedy fans.

Milking the trapdoor laden stage for the few moments that could be considered clever, The Travellers was interminably long – almost painfully so. The few highlights – the slow motion death scene, the feather duster puppetry, and a snippet of embedded Shakespeare – failed miserably to make up for the overwhelming audio, the boorish shouting masquerading as dialogue, and a general feeling that this production was mired in the presentation, rather than the text. Style-over-content.

“In the spirit of ‘3 Dark Tales‘”, eh? The association is an insult.

The Circuit Breaker

Sound of HumaN @ The Umbrella Revolution

11:30pm, Thu 23 Feb 2006

Score: 8

Let’s be honest, here – after the bliss that was The Fever, I got a bit emotional. By which I mean: I grinned like a loon and drank like a fish. On a mostly empty stomach. Which means that, by the time we got into the Umbrella Revolution for Ben Walsh’s new show, I was pretty shattered. By which I mean: pissed.

So, what do I remember? I remember more grinning. I remember great drumming. I remember laughing my arse off at the “session work” skit. I remember an incredible multi-track feedback percussion piece. I remember Walsh enjoying himself and his toys (a roll-up keyboard, the broken japanese thingy… OmniNote? OptiNote?), and I remember him apologising profusely for his opening night teething problems.

But most of all, I remember an enthusiastic and appreciative percussionist who put on a great show. And that’s pretty much all I need, really.

The Fever

theater simple @ The MooBaarn

7:30pm-ish, Thu 23 Feb 2006

Score: 10

This was always going to be hard to write about. Even before the performance, I knew it was going to be an intense and personal experience for me; after all, it involved my favourite starving artists, theater simple, mixing it up with a selection family and friends in our home (which hasn’t seen a decent-sized gathering for nearly six years).

Way back in November 2005, Andrew Litzky first floated the idea of a salon performance to us; we were both flabbergasted that such a thing could be done, and gladly accepted the proposition put forth. My SO and I carefully thought through the guest list, and were frankly surprised at the number of positive RSVPs we got. Frantic house cleaning, all the other prep work, a “production meeting” with Llysa, Andrew, Monique and Bob at Beyond India…

See that? That’s a real, live, production meeting sketch. Or something.

…the usual last-minute doubts, and then… the night was upon us.

After Andrew introduced himself to the crowd and laid down the house rules for the evening, Llysa came downstairs to engage in the performance… and what a performance! Cornered in our kitchen in an armchair, she evokes the labyrinthine story of a delusional reporter in a far-off land, who has seen too much and is questioning all she believes in; all she has been raised to believe. The underlying theme seemed to be: how can I bear to have so much, when others have so little? A particularly poignant query when posed in your own house!

Everything about this performance was sublime, all-enveloping; and, despite the location, it possessed all the hallmarks of a classic theater simple production. Prop usage was minimal, relying on a table-lamp and requisite beverages; the lamp coming into its own as dusk closed over the house, drawing focus into Llysa as the performance progressed. Just… riveting.

And then… the performance is over. I was grinning like a loon; it was such a great show, such fabulous theatre. In my house. Friends coming up to me, telling me how happy I looked – that wasn’t happiness, that was sheer delight. Delight that such an event could happen.

Then the drinks really started to flow. Catching up with old friends, realising that I hadn’t had any lunch. Or dinner. And simply not being able to thank theater simple enough – because it’s almost impossible to do so.

Well, what else can I say about this? It was an utterly amazing and unique experience. But here’s the pearler for me: hunting down some phone numbers for stragglers, I had cause to pop upstairs in The MooBaarn. There, in one of the rooms, I spied Llysa prepping for the performance. That insight, that snippet, that fragment will always remain so dearly personal and precious to me.

Sam Simmons’ Tales From The Erotic Cat

Vanilla Productions @ The Garden Shed

9:15pm, Wed 22 Feb 2006

Score: 9

Quite frankly, nothing I write here is going to do Sam Simmons justice.

This act is surrealism at its finest. With fantastic pre-recorded accompaniment (“audible thoughts” and musical backing), Simmons appears totally comfortable performing his completely fractured routine; even his feigned awkward moments (don’t worry, he’s audience safe) are sublime.

His songs – especially the “Erotic Cat” closer – are completely hat-stand; his on-stage flip-chart support is genius. Props, cardboard masks – purrfect. There’s a flat spot in the middle of the show (the house story drags on a bit too long), but the rest of the time I was in tears of laughter.

Genius, abstract comedy genius. This is one I hope to see again before the end of the Fringe.