Category: 2006 – Adelaide Fringe Festival

Anatomy of Discourse

Robin Davidson @ UniSA City West (HH3-08)

7:30pm, Fri 10 Mar 2006

This production delivers the final lecture of a university professor, made redundant due to funding cutbacks and the resultant department closures. Of course, this has the effect of also taking aim at government funding rationale, the bureaucracy inherent within the higher education system, and the increasingly career-oriented degrees that universities are finding it necessary to focus on.

Robin Davidson delivers the lecture in a manner more akin to stand-up comedy; he trips from one topic to another, milking the laughs when he can, before doubling back to close off a topic. His character is clearly melancholic on this, his last day of an anonymous career; his dialogue full of regret as he recounts his sexual exploits – first as, then with, students. Now, though, he is alone – and mortality is in the air. In between swigs from his hip-flask, memories of the lasagna and merlot his once-respectable job afforded him, there’s plenty of digs at the world of academia – and a level of unrealised misogyny that leaves a slightly bitter taste in the mouth.

There was also a tiny bit of audience participation – which the audience mark took as indication that interruptions throughout the performance were OK. Davidson handled the unwanted “suggestions” well, but they (amusingly) irked the living shit out of the kids sitting in front of me… heh. I could see the Me of a few years ago in their shaken heads and furious glares.

Let’s look again at the flyer: “A witty, obscene, absurd, political and poignant glimpse of academia”, eh? Check, nup, nup, check, check. That’s somewhere on the road to Good Enough.

Daniel Kitson

Daniel Kitson @ Nova 1

9:45pm, Thu 9 Mar 2006

I saw Daniel Kitson in 2004 on the recommendation of some UK friends; they were spot on the money, he was simply brilliant. And so, on my birthday – traditionally a day of dubious shows for me – I figured he’d be a lock for a good show. I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest; he was in fine, thought-provoking form.

“Thought-provoking?” I hear you cry, the words sounding almost offensive when you associate them with a comedian. Well, yes – as well as poke fun at the stupid things in our world (as per pretty much every other comedian), Kitson also challenges us to question why it’s actually funny, and whether it’d be a good idea to change our collective behaviour so that there’s no longer anything to laugh at.

At least, that’s what I think.

Aside from a snide dig at his performing neighbour Akmal, the obvious targets are there – meat-head male magazines, reality TV shows, The Advertiser Fringe reviews – but the diatribe that connected most with me involved Bands That You Love. In re-telling his experiences at Ben Folds and Lemonheads gigs, Kitson struck a chord that anyone who resents their love becoming populist fodder.

Ace.

Angry Young Man

MahWaff Theatre Company @ The Studio (Holden Street)

8:00pm, Thu 9 Mar 2006

“Yuri – a brilliant Eastern European surgeon – arrives in London in search of a new life,” reads the flyer for Angry Young Man. Knowing nothing of the country he has entered, he quickly renders himself destitute, before falling in with the wrong crowd, falling for the wrong woman, and an adventure that takes in the English countryside, political intrigue, and the usual suspects in lust/laughter/violence. Not to mention a few digs at English immigration policy.

The entire play is performed – from Yuri’s point-of-view – by four actors, all (but one) switching between the lead and supporting roles (or indeed, scenery) as the scene requires. The four players are as synchronised (and pretty) as any boy band; they consort brilliantly to provide wit, visual puns, and drama.

The obvious laugh at the end for “the quiet guy” of the four is well deserved, for he is Ben Woolf, the writer of this clever bit of work. As usual, the great pity is that it will remain largely unknown by the public, such is the relative anonymity of the Holden Street Theatres. A shame, because Angry Young Man deserves a much larger audience.

Bizzurk

Troupe dart @ The Arch (Holden Street)

6:15pm, Thu 9 Mar 2006

Quoting verbatim from the director’s notes:

Commedia dell’Arte is a form of theatre that dates from the early 1500’s in Italy, and subsequently spread across Europe, remaining popular for more than two hundred years.

Commedia uses leather masks, improvisation, stock characters, physical exaggeration, slapsticks, falls and acrobatic moves, music, verbal wit, obscenity and absurdity.

Bizzurk, he goes on to say, leverages the traditions of southern Italian Commedia, revolving around the exploits of layabout Pulcinella and his wife, Donna Zeza. Our performance also included the evil (and gorgeous) Octavia Pantalone and her daughter Elektra, her husband, her lover, and… Death. It’s all very silly, it’s not always obvious which bits are improv and which are stock, and it’s not un-entertaining.

Look – the only word you need to know is “improvisation”; that means that anything I write about my particular show could be completely different for the one you go to. All I can say is this: the actors are all capable, there’s huge potential to be had for a giggle, and Octavia is a babe. Easy, really.

Edge

Angelica Torn @ The Bosco Theatre

3:00pm, Thu 9 Mar 2006

My prior knowledge of Sylvia Plath’s work was limited to the fact that she’d written a short story called “Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams”, the title of which inspired one of the more brilliant stars in Tears For Fears’ catalogue. For that reason, and that reason alone, her name has always piqued my curiosity; and usually my judgment’s pretty good on such trivial connections. So when I spied the précis for Edge – her own story, told on the day she committed suicide – I marked it down as a must-see.

Written from the perspective of Plath on the day of her suicide (but with knowledge of future events), Edge is essentially a tale of the men in her life: her husband, poet Ted Hughes, and her father, who died when she was eight. Her disapproving mother and the trials of her own mental anguish also feature highly, but the first time that Ted is mentioned you can sense the bitterness and hatred and longing that Plath still holds.

Emotionally battered after the death of her domineering and emotionally distant father, Plath’s seemingly unflappable exterior masked an internal demolition job. Her inability to deal with failure in her search for perfection led to self-mutilation, suicide attempts and, eventually, psychiatric hospitalisation – the scenes describing two of her psychiatrists (including “Doctor Horror”) are alternatively painful and humorous. Once she meets Ted Hughes, the emotional replacement for her father, the tale becomes even more (if that seems possible) twisted and bitter; their animalistic relationship, the physical abuse, Ted’s jealousy of her (Plath was a better poet than Hughes… and both of them knew it), Ted’s mother’s (!) jealousy of Plath… it’s a veritable bucket of nastiness.

Moving to England at Ted’s request, despite disliking the land and its people intensely (“why do they allow teeth to rot in their mouths?”), she bore two children by Ted – only to see Ted leave her for the comic relief of the performance, Assia. The venom spat forth in the name of “the Cow” seems never-ending; in the end, with Ted and Assia urging Plath to kill herself, it seems completely justified, especially given her persistent longing for Ted, even after feeling so utterly betrayed.

The first thing you sense about Angelica Torn as she takes to the stage as Sylvia is that she’s good. Damn good. Sure, you know she’s won Best Actress awards for this piece, but her cheeky laugh and forthright nature wins you over immediately. The explosion at her father’s grave is startling; the loss of her microphone midway into the second act didn’t phase her at all. And she’s either performed for two hours suffering from the flu, or has produced the finest theatrical rendition of pneumonia I’ve ever seen – either way, a huge accomplishment.

The only fault that can be levelled at this production is in its location – the Bosco Theatre. Wedged in the corner of the Garden of Unearthly Delights, it contains the most uncomfortable seating known to man – not good for two-hour performances – and is surrounded by walls that are good for only two things: letting external sound and heat in. Thus, the choice had to be made between seeing Edge (a) in the middle of the day, with street noise and sun overhead; or (2) in the evening, with lessened (but still stagnant) heat and carnival noises permeating the tale of a tortured poet. It’s a real cleft stick; I believe the afternoon was the better option (but then we wound up with mike problems. Ho, hum).

Still, this was a superb production, let down only by the old adage “location, location, location”. Put this in the Little Theatre and tickets would – quite rightly – go like wildfire.

2connect

No Strings Attached Theatre of Disability @ Higher Ground

11:30am, Thu 9 Mar 2006

No Strings Attached Theatre of Disability is a theatre group targeted at providing performers with a disability with an avenue to pursue their art; 2connect is an example of that, pairing up members of No Strings Attached with other members of South Australia’s arts community to produce four original theatre duets. The results were varied, but always thought provoking.

After a great reception from Steve Goldsmith (that’s the closest I’ve ever been to live didgeridoo), we were led into the old IMAX theatre for The Ride of Babs and Sunny – an enchanting tale of friendship, accessorised with video and The Ride of the Valkyries. Back out to the foyer for Alice’s Cat, a light-hearted caberet-ish expose of the bipolar nature of being a public servant.

Upstairs we then trekked to the old IMAX projection room (it’s HUGE!) and the highlight of the event, Trapped. Convincingly played, claustrophobic, and equal parts wit and drama, this was a fantastic piece of work – kudos to Kym Mackenzie and Alirio Zavarce. Finally, back to the main theatre for Lionheart, a three-act dance piece with clever projected visuals.

Whilst this isn’t the most polished or complex production in the Fringe, it’s obvious that all performers involved gained a great deal from the experience. More power to ’em, I say.

Chekhov & Stoppard Bite Sized

This Rough Magic @ The Pillar Room (Freemasons)

10:30pm, Wed 8 Mar 2006

This Rough Magic supplied my Shakespearean requirements for the first few Big Fringes, and I returned to them to see these two short plays. The first, Chekhov’s A Marriage Proposal, was a cracking bit of work – short, snappy, slapstick (slappy?), with great comic performances by Peter Davies and Erica Richards. David Thring’s portrayal of Ivan Vassiliyich was a touch over the top, but still raised a chuckle when he collapsed in the audience. Hurrah!

Stoppard’s After Magritte, on the other hand, was pure corn. Pun-laden to the extreme, it reminded me of the parody of English TV on The Young Ones, “Oh Crikey”. Even the director’s notes refer to the piece as “dated”; whilst there is some glee to be had from this 70’s throwback, after a while the constant twisting and turning of the dialogue (as preceded by the aforementioned puns) gets tiring.

I’ll confess to not being intimate with either piece of work (or author) going into this performance – that didn’t stop me enjoying these two snippets, though. If only Stoppard had showed a little more restraint, this could have been a perfect pair.

Miss Blossom Callahan

professional collective @ Jive

6:30pm, Wed 8 Mar 2006

As soon as the lights come up, you know you’re in for a ride on the rough side of the tracks. As the title character – an older woman, turning tricks for free, who still clings to delusions of grandeur both past and future, starts fussing over the indignant vagrant she’s allowed into her cesspool of an apartment. There’s the junkie she slept with last night; there’s the ominous landlord who’ll soon be dead by her hand. Make no mistake – Miss Blossom Callahan is no happy love story, nor raucous comedy; this is the underbelly of the underclass.

There’s something about low-life characters that brings out the best in Rory Walker – his role as Max The Cat is exceptional, being all edge and gritted teeth. But somehow he still manages to be upstaged by Nathan O’Keefe’s Junk in a performance that was grimy and nervous and totally in character. Jacqy Phillips is convincing in the title role – equal parts skank ho, naïvety, and desperation.

The final scene before the lights drop has Blossom lying forlornly on the couch, wailing “Help me!”, hoping to pull off one last scam… never a truer word was spoken. Miss Blossom Callahan is a grubby tale of desperate and seedy characters – and is all the better for it. This was superb Fringe drama, and a credit to all involved.

Royal Road of Dreams

Lorna, Declan and Matthew @ Higher Ground

5:00pm, Wed 8 Mar 2006

Wow… this was really, really odd. It’s also the first thing I’ve seen inside Higher Ground, the old IMAX theatre complex – it looks to be a decent casual venue, with wide steps just aching for tiered lounging. For this performance, however, we were stuck on rickety chairs down the front.

It opens… weird-like. A petite female, bearded-hippie-stereotype male, and a blind flautist appeared for a bit of a musical bit. They then congregate on the compass-points of a circle and greet the spirits.

Ummm…

They leave the stage. The girl and blind-guy reappear; he plays flute, whilst she dances with a snake. Ummm… she then does a little gymnastic routine that, by the standards set at the Garden, is thoroughly unspectacular. Then bearded-guy comes back onstage, dressed as a 4-metre-tall giant. He (the giant) plays the drums for a bit, with flute accompaniment, and then the trio return to their compass points and thank the spirits. Blind-guy and girl do, anyway – the giant remains mute.

This was the opening night for Royal Road, and they obviously had a bit of prep work to do – but starting twenty minutes late, they still managed to finish on time. Which is admirable. But, to be honest… I haven’t got the faintest fucking clue what the point of this performance was. Not a single idea. None. It just felt like I was sitting in on someone’s private religious worship ceremony. Which is kind of… icky. And wrong.

The Yarn

crosseyed @ Star Theatre 2 (Hilton)

1:00pm, Wed 8 Mar 2006

The Yarn paints a picture of rural communal life – emphasis on the commune, the bloody pinkos – in late 19th Century Britain. The overall image of that life is joyful, though tough – but a huge emphasis is placed on the banding together of the community (“hardships are common, and hardships are shared”).

From a central collection of performers, a number of yarns are spun; each with their own moral or humour, they’re very much self contained. From the very first yarn – Betsy’s Sister – through to the blunt Toby’s Tale, the stories get shorter, faster. There’s the morbid death of the hungry woman, the bitter tale of the estranged family, the absurdity of the flying cow… and then the sad epilogue, lamenting the death of country life in favour of the cities.

Initially, with all eight of us in Star Theatre 2, I thought this performance was going to suffer the same fate as The Happy Prince; then thirty-plus Year 8 students came in – sneering looks from many of the other patrons… the joyless prigs. And whilst none of the cast are going to win any acting awards this Fringe, it’s safe to say that this is a competent production worthy of a few more such school groups. Not really worth seeking out, but OK if you’re in the ‘hood.

An Unfortunate Woman

Company c NaNa @ The Promethean Theatre

5:30pm, Tues 7 Mar 2006

Score: 8

After Llysa Holland pointed me in the direction of Nicola Gunn‘s production in 2004, I’ve added Company c NaNa to my “must see” pile. And so, on opening night, I’m amongst the good-sized crowd to see her latest production at the (sadly, soon-to-be-auctioned) Promethean Theatre.

As with Tyrannous Rex, this is a massive, multi-character exposition. With just a flat stool for a prop, Gunn leads us through the tale of three main characters – lovely story, twist ending, and just all-round good theatre. Her ability to, with just a raised eyebrow or cocked wrist, make you believe that she’s a completely different character (or gender, or animal) is incredible.

The problem is that Gunn was perhaps a little too ambitious with this show. Like Tyrannous Rex, it’s impeccably performed – her actions are gorgeous, every movement filling in detail. And there’s 19 characters… though admittedly, some (like Puddles the bulldog) are only used sparingly for comedic effect. Now, she can handle the characters easily – but the audience can struggle tracking characters (especially when hurtling through the ancillary characters at the Registry of Births and Deaths).

And yet, it’s still compelling viewing – the level of craft involved is staggering.

The Lost Babylon

Shifting Point, T-Factory @ Hartley Playhouse (UniSA – Magill)

8:00pm, Mon 6 Mar 2006

Score: 4

The Harley Playhouse in the Magill campus of the Uni of SA isn’t the easiest venue to get to; luckily, the Department of Trade & Economic Development, as well as the Australia/Japan Year of Exchange have seen fit to sponsor a charter bus from outside the Unearthly Garden of Delights to the venue. Along the way, I engage in a bit of chit-chat with our “tour guides”; “Why did you decide to come to this show?” they ask. “Well,” I respond, “I’m a bit of a Fringe geek, and a gaming geek as well. This just seemed like a good fit.”

“What games do you like?”
“Ah, I’m an old guy, so my gaming history starts back with Namco arcade games and the Commodore 64.”
Blank looks.
I discover that they’re 17. What the hell am I doing talking about Namco to a seventeen year old? Commodore had all but dissolved as a hardware company before they were born!

Anyhoo… this turns out to be yet another opening night, with yet another collection of friends, family, and sponsors. Oddly different vibe to that of Black Crow Lullabies, though that could be because of the large contingent of non-english-speaking Japanese present (Lost Babylon is an co-production between Adelaide’s Shifting Point Theatre Company and Tokyo’s T-Factory). Champagne all ’round, then. And then, to the production:

Man meets ex-lover both are trapped in an amusement park destined to allow patrons the joy of running around killing each other except something goes wrong there’s bloodlust in the air and the safe bullets get replaced with nasty bullets and there’s lots of death whilst we sit by and decry mankind’s tendencies oh and there’s a love scene wodged in there for no apparent reason I mean it’s not like there’s any clever multi-level linking between sub-plots and isn’t violence awful.

The Hartley Playhouse has rough concrete walls; the back of the stage has a large screen (used as a projection surface for pre-recorded sections of the performance). After a slow, loose and sloppy start, the above plot lurches along at a sedate pace: there’s a couple of nice scenes (like the slow-motion death… cue Matrix bullet-time references), but when the most memorable moment is an imagined character (the gorgeous Kaori Endo) uttering “I am cheap”, you can pretty much guess how gripping the first act really was.

The second act opens with a nice bit of boy/girl biffo; but the highlight of the evening involves the rear projection screen. Buggered if I know how to explain this, but here goes: enacting part of the amusement park scenario, we had two groups of people (chaser and chasee) skating through a virtual world projected onto the rear screen. The mimed skating technique was pretty neat; synched up with the projection, it created a fabulous feeling of movement. The chasees, though, zoomed up to a brick wall – their shuffling drawing them closer to the screen all the time – until they collided with the wall/screen. Fantastic effect, merging the virtual to the real… until you notice that one of the actors has put their knee through the screen. The foot-square black hole remains in the middle of the screen for the rest of the performance. Tech staff I talked to post-performance were mortified; I laughed my arse off.

Rob MacPherson is clearly the most accomplished of the English-speaking actors here, but his character is annoying in the extreme; the same goes for Cheryl Bradley Thomas’ “Woman” – it’s a blessing when they both suffer the “big” protracted deaths afforded to the principal characters. Lesser characters, by comparison, appear to suffer little. The most endearing character, though, is Seiji Aitoh’s Soldier – it’s just a shame that his pronunciation made him all but unintelligible most of the time.

In summary: this is a mess. There’s gun/sex and violence/media links a-plenty, despite glorifying violence (“you guys kill people in a cool way”); inferring that reading novels is deemed lifeless; plenty of digs at pop culture (“people don’t remember”); and the audio was all over the place (at one stage the pre-recorded sound was so overpowering it encouraged our beloved Samela Harris to turn and gesticulate madly at the tech staff. Cos, like, she knows better). There were some good ideas with the direction: having performance spaces off-stage that were projected onto the video-screen was a great effect, creating a sense of sober voyeurism. But such touches were few and far between.

I shudder to think what any visiting investors may have thought of the performance.

Reading my program before the performance, it struck me that it reads a lot like the plot from the (great) movie Battle Royale (or The Lord of the Flies for all you book-types). Upon reflection, it’s not quite the same – well, the abovementioned are a squillion times better, for starters – but the same sort of apocalyptic structure is used.

ElbowSkin: Comedy Gondola

ElbowSkin @ The Pillar Room (Freemasons)

9:30pm, Sun 5 Mar 2006

Score: 7

After first catching Dave and Ernie in FF2004, I thought ElbowSkin worthy enough to warrant another shot in FF2006. And whilst this show doesn’t scale any huge comedic heights, there’s still a fair bit of fun to be had.

Again, ElbowSkin’s pre-recorded material is ace: their recurring camera phone jokes, the Schapelle Corby shadow-puppet snippets, and the music video they played live music for. In fact, their songs were pretty good, too… “I’ve Got The World (‘s Thinnest Penis)” and “Seven Year Old Pants” (not quite what you were expecting, there) are up there with Tripod’s tomfoolery.

Add in the “Things You Learn When You’ve Got Your Period” bit, and the creation of a bored video, and it’s an hour well spent. Despite the completely crap premise for the name of the show (even though that makes for great video, too).

Bob Log III

Bob Log III @ Jive

10:00pm, Sat 4 Mar 2006

Score: 5

Support band Terrance Dicks (I think… they had a big “TD” on their banner, anyway) were ace. They played rock… good rock, of the fast pop-punk variety. Really very enjoyable.

The Town Bikes (as seen in The Burlesque Hour) popped onstage next; they performed the same cutesy dance act, with the exception that the accompanying audio track seemed a bit more profane. Fine by me; the Bikes are a good laugh.

And finally, replete in his black jumpsuit and motorcycle helmet (modified to accept a phone handset), on came Bob Log the Third. Bob’s claim to fame is that he can play slide guitar… really fast slide guitar, and uses a couple of foot-triggered drum machines (and another bass drum & cymbal) to form his own one-man-band.

His first couple of songs are incredible – he’ll play in time with his pre-programmed accompaniment, then switch the drum machines off with quick foot movements, change tempo in a bizarrely discordant manner, then kick the machines off again. It is, quite simply, brilliant.

For the first few songs.

Then he announces “this song goes something like this…” – and launches into a song that sounds exactly like the one before. And the one before that, come to think of it. And then you (or rather, I) think – “hang on, he’s a one trick pony”.

Bob knows this though, and has a bunch of distractions. The Town Bikes come out to dance alongside him. He jumps into a rubber raft and crowd-surfs whilst playing. He’s got a flashing jumpsuit.

But when he’s calling women out of the crowd to make “Boob Scotch” (by dunking their tits in his scotch), I’m calling shenanigans.

Yeah, he plays fast. Yeah, the first couple of songs are amazing. Yeah, he brought TD and The Town Bikes along for the ride. But Bob’s a one-trick pony, and there’s no disguising it.

Edit (18 March 2006): got Terrance Dicks’ name right :)

Omon Ra

Restaged Histories Project @ Little Theatre

8:00pm, Sat 4 Mar 2006

Score: 8

An adaptation of (a translation of) a Victor Pelevin novel, Omon Ra traces a young man’s journey to the dark side of the moon. Set amidst the Cold War, young Omon and his best friend Mitiok enter the Soviet Flight School with the aim of becoming Cosmonauts.

What follows is equal parts drama, subterfuge, and farce. For the most part, Omon Ra is played straight – digging at Soviet Cold War propaganda and techniques as the race to land a man on the (at that time) unseen dark side of the moon. However, there’s some wonderful perforations of humour in the production – the story of Kissinger bear hunting (although that counts as tragic, too), and the ever-so-sly Pink Floyd discussion… “Ummagumma – that’s not music, that’s shit.”

There’s a twist in the tale – not totally unexpected, but handled in a very clever manner. Jonathon Brand is exceptional in his many roles, but Anthony Standish carries the title role well.

If I had to whinge about anything, it would be that the set feels like it’s trying too hard to appear “cheap”, to cultivate that beloved Fringe feel; yes, some of this junk is cleverly used, but other ties it just feels like it doesn’t have to be that trashy. But on all other levels, Omon Ra is a clever, thoughtful piece of theatre, and marks the Restaged Histories Project as a company to look out for in the future.