Category: ff2010

Violet Rapscallion (a stray cabaret)

Bird Wizdom @ Nexus Cabaret

11:00pm, Thu 4 Mar 2010

Such was the aftertaste of An Awkward Seduction that I almost skipped Violet Rapscallion – what if, I briefly mused, that was the standard of all cabaret at the Nexus this year? Thankfully, my give-everything-a-chance policy forced me to return to the Nexus… because this was a fantastic show.

First up: Bird Wizdom were musically solid. Belting out a bunch of songs on the more gothic side of cabaret, they were tighter than a duck’s chuff, punchy and dynamic, and the mix was perfect. And the delicious Melanie Pryor was on cello… swoon.

They were led by the mysterious Anya… and, without wanting to belittle the band, she owned the stage. She’s a natural front for the band, swaggering around with confidence as she belted out songs with a powerful voice, then engaged in a little pantomime (with her imaginary friend Violet), a poetry reading, and some generally strange behaviour… and fantastic ukelele skills, too. She was, in a word, awesome.

But, like I said, that’s not taking anything away from the rest of the troupe. The belly dancer was brilliantly used, the songs were either over-the-top morosely gothic or jauntily funny, all with a Berlin cabaret edge. “That’s So Fucking Wrong”, the Interval Song, the Making Your Way Back To Your Seats Song, the “fuck you” harmonies… it was all bloody brilliant, with self-deprecating humour and stalking/stalkers featuring early and often.

Oh, and the costumes were great, too.

Seriously – this was an amazing show, and rest assured that Bird Wizdom will be on The List whenever they surface again.

An Awkward Seduction

The Secret Refuge for Wayward Beauties @ Nexus Cabaret

9:00pm, Thu 4 Mar 2010

It’s a stumbling start as two women, ostensibly dressed in the uniform of burlesque with which we Fringe-goers have become all too familiar, wander across the stage with no sense of order, of purpose; they’re unsteady on their feet, as if their heels are foreign to them, and the band behind them already look bored. The saxophone is far too hot – in fact, levels are all over the shop, much like the harmonies.

Fake accents, initially charming in their stereotyped wrongness, become grating by the time we get to Is That All There Is?; unfortunately, the stilted posturing of the cabaret set was replaced with the tedious Miss Direction and her “iSize” application skit. And then… and then…

We Float. Now, I love this song – it’s one of the best things PJ’s ever done, I reckon – so when I picked up on those bass and piano lines, I sat up. A pretty blonde took to the stage, surrounded by the helium balloons that were tied to her bra and panties. Now sure, her atonal rendition of the soaring chorus would have been affected by the fact that she was continually trying to steer the balloons away from her face, but boy did she murder that song. Killed it dead.

And then, as the band trudged through the outro of the song, the pièce de résistance: she awkwardly pulls out a pair of scissors and cuts the straps on her knickers and bra (in that order, tossing any semblance of strip “tease” out the window) to let the balloons float away with her apparel, leaving her onstage, naked, prone, accompanied by the dying strains of of a beautiful song.

I guess that was the plan, anyway.

What actually happened was that she awkwardly had to de-mount the panty/balloon saddle, which then slowly rose upwards… until they hit the air-conditioning duct directly above her, whereupon the balloons held fast; the underwear hung just above her eye-level. The bra managed a bit more altitude and slowly wafted into the rafters of the Nexus.

The song played on, and she stood there, naked, obviously at a loss for something to do. Much like the audience, then, who could do little more than look past the panties at her, or at the ceiling-bound bra. She shrugged helplessly, throwing her hands into the air in a “what can I do?” dismissal, then left the stage. The emcee’s harsh accent returned and bid us all goodnight.

Now, I get the fact that there was supposed to be a bit of bit of bumble, an element of amateur, and a tongue planted firmly in the cheek for this performance… but none of it came off (and, if it indeed did go off according to plan, was painful to watch). I’m pretty sure that deliberately looking amateur only works if (ironically) you’re already pretty good; and sadly, the Wayward Beauties are not. And, all things being equal, that’s OK – after all, everyone has to start somewhere – but the dealbreaker was that they just didn’t seem to care… and that’s unforgivable.

I was honestly shocked to discover that this was the second performance of An Awkward Seduction… because this felt like a rehearsal. This felt like the first dress rehearsal, where they were just running through the show in order to figure out blocking problems. Afterwards, I wandered up to Higher Ground, lamenting the fact that I’d decided to have a Dry Day – alcohol would have helped wash away the memory – and I bumped into Rose; she was far more scathing than I. Such was the aftertaste of An Awkward Seduction that I almost skipped my next show…

Le Garçon Néurotique

Josh Cameron (via The Dog Theatre) @ The Spare Room

10:45pm, Wed 3 Mar 2010

It’s fair to say that I was a little emotionally battered when I struggled in to see this show; it’s not like I’d just had my heart broken or anything (that’s happened during Festival time before, and was brutal), but I was feeling a little bit… weathered. Vulnerable. Especially after I took one of the few remaining seats in The Spare Room and immediately thought “this is the seat she would have chosen.” You know how it is.

So I consider it a blessing that Josh Cameron’s motor-mouthed monologue was able to sweep me away, dragging me into the seedy world of the cocktail bar waiter, full of unrequited lust and seething resentment. Full of vivid characters, evocative descriptions of places and people and events.

Despite the rapid rate of delivery, Cameron’s script is beautifully paced; it’s also extremely eloquent, with wonderful use of language. But I can’t help but think that it was too calculated; the c-bombs seemed a little too perfectly placed, almost to the point of feeling cynically shocking. Almost as if it wanted the audience to wander out thinking “wow, what a brave script.”

But it’s impossible not to like this. Cameron’s neuroses largely match my own, the smiling public face hiding the snarling hatred… he was, to me, a totally identifiable character. Of course, the xenophobia & homophobia, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so identifiable… Regardless, Le Garçon Néurotique proved to be a thoroughly enjoyable – though perhaps overly cynical – piece of Fringe theatre.

True West

Flying Penguin Productions @ AC Arts (Main Theatre)

3:00pm, Wed 3 Mar 2010

Walking from the brilliant sunshine into the Main Theatre at AC Arts was a bit disconcerting; the set, a wonderfully constructed kitchen and half-house, looked homely at first glance but possessed a domestic menace, and the opening music – banjo and distorted guitar – provided an ominous introduction.

Sam Shepard‘s play sees petty criminal Lee return to his mother’s home (ostensibly to steal her possessions), only to find his younger brother Austin, housesitting in her absence. Lee uses his physical presence to dominate Austin, who almost whimpers in his attempts to keep his brother at ease.

Austin is a struggling screenwriter, and when Saul (the movie producer he’d been trying to collaborate with) comes to check up on him, Lee and Saul have an instant connection. They leave him to work and go off to play golf; by the time they return, Saul has agreed to produce one of Lee’s ideas – at the expense of Austin’s. This sends the spurned younger brother into a tailspin, and a subsequent drinking frenzy; when Lee tries to get his brother’s help to write his screenplay, the tables turn: Austin is now the dominant one, lording his intellectual superiority and work ethic over his older sibling. Characters become frayed and obsessive, and their Mother’s return does little to ease the tension; eventually, Austin tries to strangle Lee with a telephone cord, fails, and the lights drop as the brothers face each other, aggression thick in the air.

Now, let’s get one thing perfectly straight: True West‘s use of sound is possibly the best of any production so far this year. Everything, from the occasional musical texture, to the typewriter clatter and noises of domestic clutter, to the space afforded to the actor’s lines, is magnificently placed. When Lee virtually spits the last consonant in “I don’t slee…P”, there’s a pregnant pause that amplifies the impact after-the-fact. Those pauses are used everywhere, creating a wonderful tension between the characters; and when conflicts arise in the latter parts of the play, the shouting is wonderfully directed.

As for the characters themselves… well, Nicholas Garsden is fantastic as Lee, managing both the physical menace and intellectual limitations. I was less keen on Renato Musolino’s Austin initially, but his mean-spirited and aggressive second act was fantastic. The lighting, too, was lush, and the script’s inexplicable fascination with toast (and toaster theft) almost provided farcical comic relief.

The only problem with True West is that it feels like it drags on too long… but, having already given a thumbs-up to the pregnant pauses, it almost feels contradictory to mention it. Still, it’s never a good sign when I start shifting in my seat, wondering when (and how) the performance was going to end; but a cliff-hanging denouement left me satisfied, without feeling the need to rave about it. Solid theatre.

Rhino Room’s Late Show

Lots of people @ Rhino Room – Upstairs

11:00pm, Tue 2 Mar 2010

Walking home from The Life and Death of King John, pushing through the bogan hordes streaming into the city from the AC/DC show that evening, I sent a text message to… a friend. “You still out and about?” I queried; “Just about to take myself to the Rhino Room Late Show,” came the reply. So, with scant regard for their inclinations, I invited myself along.

And, when I arrived at the Rhino Room and checked the posted lineup on the door, I suffered mixed feelings; Justin Hamilton was listed as headliner. Mind you, Hannah Gadsby and Greg Fleet were on there too, as well as Steve Hughes, so it wasn’t a complete loss. So – I paid my money, grabbed a drink, took a seat. Chatted with Steve Sheehan and Ro Campbell, and saw some comedy.

The weird thing about this evening is that I didn’t even realise (until much, much later) that this was even a Fringe event; I just thought it was a usual Rhino Room deal. So my attention was well down on what it usually is – I didn’t make my usual mental notes on performances (or even performers) – and I only made notes about this show weeks after the fact. So I’ve no doubt that I’ll forget some of the comedians….

But I do remember Fabien Clark’s bit (not bad, but not sure I’d see a solo show), Hannah Gadsby (fantastically dry and loveable, as always), Greg Fleet (who was off his face and bloody funny), Jason Pestall (hmmmmm), and maybe Adam Keily (I can’t quite remember whether he was there or not). But the big win for the night (besides the fact that Hammo wasn’t on) was Steve Hughes; he was on The List, but hadn’t been scheduled, but on the basis of his spot tonight he was slotted in real quick. Hughes was bloody fantastic, and well worth the price of admission.

Hell West And Crooked

Amelia Jane Hunter @ The Bunka

6:30pm, Tue 2 Mar 2010

I’m no fan of reality TV. At all. I think it’s lowest-common-denominator television, put together by people more interested in increasing profits than providing quality entertainment. It preys on people’s insecurities and prejudices, twists words and conjures emotions in the search for ratings, with scant regard for the welfare of those participating – or watching.

OK, off the soapbox now. But that, pretty much, is what Hell West is all about.

Amelia Jane Hunter, for some inexplicable reason (glibly described as “a fall from grace”), wound up as a contestant on a New Zealand reality show, Island Wars. As one might guess from the title, this show pitted Kiwi against Aussie against Mother Nature on a tropical island, with the production team seemingly doing everything they could to keep the antagonism near boiling point. The tales of their interference are eye-opening (and the description of their unofficial rule-book, and the contestants’ rebellion against the producers, a delight); the resultant clips that Hunter showed were almost shocking when coupled with her backstory.

When I last saw Hunter (during her Meat – The Musical co-production with Hannah Gadsby), she had great stage presence – and she didn’t let the small crowd down at all, as she went through her onstage vent, flipping between raucous rage and wrenching despair. And it’s that latter emotion that lingers after long after Hell West And Crooked is over; Hunter takes us through not only the abusive (and, yes, sometimes literally unbelievably funny) filming of the show itself, but also through the therapy she needed after filming was over. And that’s a humbling takeaway from this performance; sure, Hunter told her story well, but walking away from the show knowing that she’d damn near completely broken down as a result of this “light entertainment” made the presentation almost… ummm… regretful.

I’m glad to have been part of Amelia Jane Hunter’s catharsis; I’m just sorry that she had to tell the story at all.

Lady Carol

Lady Carol @ Bosco Theater

10:15pm, Mon 1 Mar 2010

I’ve been lucky enough to catch snippets of Lady Carol prior to this evening’s show; she lent an air of refined elegance to A Company Of Strangers, and a dignity to the ramshackle proceedings of Circus vs. Sideshow. In both cases her haunting renditions of well-known songs were quite astonishing; her ukelele a plaintive accompaniment to Carol’s amazing voice. I loved those small doses, I really did.

The thing is, I kinda wish I hadn’t seen this show.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I still think Lady Carol is absolutely amazing. She’s utterly bewitching onstage, a gorgeous creature peering forcefully out from beneath her black hood, pale skin and blonde hair and dark red lips and… gorgeous. And that voice… that voice! Drifting effortlessly from soaring high notes to gravelly lows and – most importantly – well aware of when to not sing… when to let her songs have some air.

And she picked some blinding songs for this performance: Carol’s performance of Running Up That Hill would have left Kate happy, and the balance of delicacy and power was perfect for Heart-Shaped Box. Radiohead got a double-outing with Karma Police and Creep (as a glorious encore), and the tail end of Wild Is The Wind was gobsmacking.

So, after clumsily enthusing over her presentation and ability and choice of material, why have I said that I wish I hadn’t seen this show?

For me, Lady Carol has always been this mysterious stranger who would carefully take to the stage for a short time and blow you away. There was always an element of the unknown with her; mystique. And, during this long-form show, with her (albeit refined, especially the drumming) accompaniment, with her (interesting) little tales of her upbringing, her conversational tone…

…well, the mystique was shattered. The mysterious unknown is a lot more understandable.

Again, don’t get me wrong: this was a great show, and Lady Carol is a wonderful performer; but I just wish I had that mystique back.

Felicity Ward reads from The Book of Moron

Felicity Ward @ Le Cascadeur

8:45pm, Mon 1 Mar 2010

Last year I raved about Felicity Ward’s show; even now, the memories of it were of cutting laughter and an energetic mood. So I was a little perturbed to take my wooden seat in Le Cascadeur to find an old armchair, some slippers, and a big old book sitting onstage – this looked awfully sedate, I thought, and lacking in the vibrancy of last year’s show. But after a genuinely surprising start (her entrance is… well, let’s just say that you missed it), Ward settles into the same familiar groove – and that is indeed a Good Thing.

Yes, some of the material is familiar – there’s a tentative return to Ward’s IBS-inspired flatulence, and more prodding of her family… and her own idiosyncracies. But she’s also broadening her range with a little guitar accompaniment (not overused, thankfully), as she pulls new stories from her over-sized Book of Moron.

I’m not convinced that the reading-stories-by-the-fire-with-the-dog-at-your-feet motif added anything to the performance (other than the opportunity for that opening), but it’s good to see that Felicity Ward can still spin a yarn. Great stuff, and she remains an Australian comedian to be followed.

Parasouls

Parasouls @ The Birdcage

10:00pm, Sun 28 Feb 2010

It was a really quick dash from Zack Adams at the TuxCat down to The Birdcage, and the show had literally just started as I scurried in and took my seat. And, knowing little more about the show than the line “five young women on stage, stripped down but still dressed,” I settled in for what would be a curious experience.

Parasouls was a blend of dance, mime, and simple circus acrobatics, all tinged with a hint of burlesque. In their little pinnies and short skirts, the girls juggle, hoop, and balance their way through an hour of quirky music. There’s always plenty going on to catch the eye – the choreography and direction is wonderful, and I often found myself switching focus from one side to the other as new tricks brought themselves to the fore. The candle balancing and burlesque feather bits, in particular, were really well done – I genuinely appreciated the restraint shown.

There’s more than a hint of the Stepford Wives within Parasouls, with an unseen and uneasy menace behind the perpetual smiles, wide open eyes, and perfect makeup of the performers. Everything is competently performed, and the presentation makes this well worth seeing; whilst the tricks alone aren’t the best you’ll find, the coherent motif makes it all worthwhile.

(This YouTube video gives a pretty good overview of the show.)

Zack Adams: Love Songs For Future Girl

Zack Adams @ The Tuxedo Cat – Studio

8:45pm, Sun 28 Feb 2010

It was always going to be a bit touch-and-go as to whether I got to see Zack Adams this Fringe; not only was he in Fringe Prime-Time, but he’d had to cancel a lot of performances due to sickness. But he recovered sufficiently to front up for the last couple of shows in his run, with this being his last before his return to Perth.

Zack is a maudlin scruffster – and his insecurities and nervousness make him instantly endearing. His songs, a collection of jangly chords and jokey verses, are uniformly excellent – Movin’ On (the “kinda looks like you” song) is absolutely brilliant, as was the meta-comedy of No Refunds. Sure, there were some familiar tunes from previous encounters, but his new tales – breaking couples up with his dedications, his quest for a new guitar, and a little Breakfast Club excursion – filled out the show wonderfully.

I enjoyed Zack Adams’ quirky musicomedy last year, and this year (illness notwithstanding) I saw nothing to dissuade me from throwing further money Zack’s way. His CD manages to capture his humour perfectly, too – so at least give that a bash.