A Slice of Saturday Night. Music and lyrics by The Heather Brothers (Lea, Neil & John). G String Productions at Teatro Vivaldi, directed by Rod and Liz Beaver. Choreography by Jordan Kelly and Susan Miller. Band: Stuart King, Ben Braithwaite and Munro Melano. November 16 - December 3, 6.30pm for dinner and show. Bookings 3257 2718.
Double degustation, double delight. You only have till Saturday to book in to a show with excellent tastes.
You can look up that big word later, but know right now that it wasn't just the gourmet dips, fetta cheese and leek filos, zucchini and herb dumplings and roasted tomato, eggplant and goat's cheese stack for entree which heralded Vivaldi's delightful mains and sweets. Equally stunning was the quality of the slices, almost anatomical cross-sections, of Saturday Night at the Club A-Go-Go circa 1964.
Written in the late 1980s, this soft-satirical musical looks back with no regrets, in fact rather nostalgically, at what was probably the Heather Brothers' youthful experience of sexual awakening. There are some very funny songs, with references musical and lyrical to all the pop names of that time - including the prediction by the club manager, Eric 'rubber legs' DeVere (played very well by Peter Brady as a Bill Haley look-alike) that it would be the "Whiff" Cliff (Richards) who would survive the Beatles, The Animals and all the rest. How awfully true.
The delight in G String's production is that the musicianship, band and singers, was spot on throughout. Not a note out of place whether in a tear-jerker ballad, soft-porn rock, Beach Boys spoof, or an almost but not quite early Joan Baez (made sentimental) imitation folk revival song.
And that's not all. The choreography was tight in design and performance, artistically exact for the period, while fitting precisely up to 14 movers and shakers on the restaurant stage. The ensemble playing of the main boy-girl roles was so well balanced that it is unfair to pick one or two above the rest. I think each audience member would have picked their own favourites. Mine would be the couple Rebecca Franks (Sharon) and Will Huang (Rick) for voices and stage presence - and Craig Francis (Gary) especially for the premature ejaculation song.
As Eric asks, who in their right mind would want to be 17 again? But it's terrific fun watching. And watch for Queenie van de Zandt and Amanda Muggleton at Vivaldi's in December.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Saturday 26 November 2005
Friday 25 November 2005
2005: The Three Scrooges - Comedy Christmas Cabaret.
The Three Scrooges - Comedy Christmas Cabaret. Shortis, Simpson and Casey directed by Carissa Campbell. The Street Theatre Studio November 24 - December 10, 8.30pm. Bookings: 6247 1223
Pssssst.... I won't reveal my source but I've just had a leak. The trouble is if I tell you about it the law will get me. I'll disappear for two weeks and then I won't even be able to tell you I disappeared for another two years. Sedition, I guess, would be the charge. But no-one would ever know, including me.
Maybe I can get around the problem by telling you that this is a terrible show. It's funny, for a start. Even worse, it's satirical. It even makes fun of the actual words spoken by our great leader of the free world and his little mate. And the music ... well, I can only say it is dreadfully so well done that you might be inveigled into enjoying the art and not realising that this is really the work of the devil. Comedy Christmas Cabaret indeed!
Don't be fooled. The worst part is that the now traditional John Shortis and Moya Simpson combination has been horribly enlivened by the voice and keyboard playing that only seems to come from heaven, though it actually comes from Peter J. Casey. If you thought Shortis and Simpson were unbearable last year, this combination is impossible now. It's surely the fault of the faceless Carissa Campbell. Only she could have choreographed the excellent Dance of the Latham Diaries - probably the only part of the show which might pass muster at ASIS.
But I have to be careful not to reveal that, though this is perhaps the most irreligious Christmas show one can imagine, Shortis's solo about what has happened to Christmas in our globalised economy is even sadder this year. Of course no-one can accept without a groan the disgusting representation of royalty, especially of Princess Di whose fashion photos were all over the Canberra Times front page on opening night. But the implied relationship between Princess Mary and her boy child suggested some higher understanding.
All in all, I can't say this was a great night out. That was just a leak, and the perpetrator will be brought to justice. I think I might just disappear at this point, and don't let yourself be seen at The Street, or you might never be seen again either. Bye-ee!
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Pssssst.... I won't reveal my source but I've just had a leak. The trouble is if I tell you about it the law will get me. I'll disappear for two weeks and then I won't even be able to tell you I disappeared for another two years. Sedition, I guess, would be the charge. But no-one would ever know, including me.
Maybe I can get around the problem by telling you that this is a terrible show. It's funny, for a start. Even worse, it's satirical. It even makes fun of the actual words spoken by our great leader of the free world and his little mate. And the music ... well, I can only say it is dreadfully so well done that you might be inveigled into enjoying the art and not realising that this is really the work of the devil. Comedy Christmas Cabaret indeed!
Don't be fooled. The worst part is that the now traditional John Shortis and Moya Simpson combination has been horribly enlivened by the voice and keyboard playing that only seems to come from heaven, though it actually comes from Peter J. Casey. If you thought Shortis and Simpson were unbearable last year, this combination is impossible now. It's surely the fault of the faceless Carissa Campbell. Only she could have choreographed the excellent Dance of the Latham Diaries - probably the only part of the show which might pass muster at ASIS.
But I have to be careful not to reveal that, though this is perhaps the most irreligious Christmas show one can imagine, Shortis's solo about what has happened to Christmas in our globalised economy is even sadder this year. Of course no-one can accept without a groan the disgusting representation of royalty, especially of Princess Di whose fashion photos were all over the Canberra Times front page on opening night. But the implied relationship between Princess Mary and her boy child suggested some higher understanding.
All in all, I can't say this was a great night out. That was just a leak, and the perpetrator will be brought to justice. I think I might just disappear at this point, and don't let yourself be seen at The Street, or you might never be seen again either. Bye-ee!
© Frank McKone, Canberra
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