Treasure Island from the novel by Robert Louis Stevenson, adapted by Joseph George Caruso. Free Rain Theatre directed by Anne Somes. Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre Centre, Wednesdays to Sundays January 16-27, 2pm (45 mins, no interval). Bookings: 6275 2700.
This is a highly rumbustious performance which I recommend for children from about 7 years of age. The play is entirely plot driven, in every sense of the word, and the pirates are very loud and very funny. I fear younger children might be a’feard, but for the right age (and for their adult minders) it’s all good indelicate fun.
The pirate crew are suitably devious, ebullient and wonderfully nasty. I’m sure they all studied Pirates of the Caribbean for their parts, but I must say that David Villanti makes Captain Billy Bones and (after he dies), Long John Silver into rum characters without looking a bit like Johnny Depp.
Threats of violence and death make up a large part of this rollicking story, and by the way show how romantic Robert Louis Stevenson was about piracy. Maybe Greenpeace should take up his approach, considering the success of Treasure Island since 1883. I recall the characters from my childhood in a quite friendly light despite Stevenson telling the story in a serious frame of mind. Perhaps this production is not true to the book, being almost a spoof, but at least it maintains Stevenson’s myth, enhanced later in Peter Pan, of pirates being essentially good at heart (except that Long John Silver didn’t have a parrot, much to my disappointment).
It’s pure entertainment, quite different from Free Rain’s other presentation, on the same days, of The Secret Garden, and I think for a smaller age range – say, 6-14.
Presenting theatre for children is a new direction for Free Rain. The 2008 program includes Jack and the Beanstalk in April, and The Jungle Book in July.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday, 17 January 2008
2008: The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
The Secret Garden from the novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Music and lyrics by Bill Francoeur. Book by Tim Kelly. Free Rain Theatre directed by Anne Somes. Courtyard Studio, Canberra Theatre Centre, Wednesdays to Sundays January 16-27, 10.30am (1hour 45mins with interval). Bookings: 6275 2700.
This musical play version is definitely as good as reading the original novel, according to one family with four children interviewed by The Canberra Times after last Thursday’s performance. This is because the characters and human relationships are true to the novel, even though theatrical devices are used to entertain us in a style which readers may not expect.
This adaptation and its interpretation in action neatly weaves song, dance and dialogue to create emotional effects from humour and concern for people’s welfare through to a sense of achievement in a satisfying conclusion. This gives children in the audience a genuine theatre experience which kept even two-year-olds watching, while from an adult point of view may be even better than the novel. What could be read as a sentimental story has been directed by Somes so that songs are both cheerful and reflective, allowing the story to be told simply and clearly.
The cast of 16 was remarkable for working so well as an ensemble, while each is an individual character worth watching in their own right. Experienced actors like Lainie Hart – wonderful as Mrs Sowerby – gave leadership to younger performers such as Samantha Wood, playing the lead role of Mary Lennox. The warmth of their camaraderie flowed off the stage into the audience, so even the very young could believe in the turnaround in the feelings of self-worth for Colin (Jack Taylor) and his father Archibald Craven (Andy McLeod).
My only criticism would be that the overly cheerful reprise of the happy family song as the curtain call, though thematically justifiable, was a rather too sudden change in mood from the quiet recognition of the new emotional security established in the final scene. I would have liked the audience to have had the opportunity to thank the performers with applause at that moment, with perhaps just the magical memories song to conclude.
But one small quibble should not distract readers from taking their children to a highly successful production of The Secret Garden.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
This musical play version is definitely as good as reading the original novel, according to one family with four children interviewed by The Canberra Times after last Thursday’s performance. This is because the characters and human relationships are true to the novel, even though theatrical devices are used to entertain us in a style which readers may not expect.
This adaptation and its interpretation in action neatly weaves song, dance and dialogue to create emotional effects from humour and concern for people’s welfare through to a sense of achievement in a satisfying conclusion. This gives children in the audience a genuine theatre experience which kept even two-year-olds watching, while from an adult point of view may be even better than the novel. What could be read as a sentimental story has been directed by Somes so that songs are both cheerful and reflective, allowing the story to be told simply and clearly.
The cast of 16 was remarkable for working so well as an ensemble, while each is an individual character worth watching in their own right. Experienced actors like Lainie Hart – wonderful as Mrs Sowerby – gave leadership to younger performers such as Samantha Wood, playing the lead role of Mary Lennox. The warmth of their camaraderie flowed off the stage into the audience, so even the very young could believe in the turnaround in the feelings of self-worth for Colin (Jack Taylor) and his father Archibald Craven (Andy McLeod).
My only criticism would be that the overly cheerful reprise of the happy family song as the curtain call, though thematically justifiable, was a rather too sudden change in mood from the quiet recognition of the new emotional security established in the final scene. I would have liked the audience to have had the opportunity to thank the performers with applause at that moment, with perhaps just the magical memories song to conclude.
But one small quibble should not distract readers from taking their children to a highly successful production of The Secret Garden.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Tuesday, 15 January 2008
2008: Robin Hood by Jennifer Maclean and Justin Watson
Robin Hood by Jennifer Maclean and Justin Watson. Ickle Pickle Productions at Belconnen Theatre, January 15, 18, 25 at 11am and 7pm; January 16, 17, 22, 23, 24 at 11am and 2.30pm; January 19, 26 at 2.30pm. Bookings: 6247 1223.
Theatre should be judged in its context. Ickle Pickle is essentially a community theatre. Robin Hood is as much about teaching and giving stage experience to young performers, in this case from age 9, as it is about entertaining young and old in the audience.
The choreography is mostly routine but by using popular songs (often with drastically re-written lyrics) and keeping the timing upbeat and precise, Hannah McFadden and musical director Adam Bluhm kept our interest in the musical numbers at the opening performance.
The script has a number of good ideas like Robin Hood gaining a pardon by turning from theft to running a legitimate charity for the poor, but the exposition early in Act 1 was a bit dull, especially for young ones in the audience. The traditional theme of the contest between The Sheriff and Robin for the hand of Maid Marion is played out with several interesting twists, but I wondered what happened to the notion of charity. Robin wins, of course, but seems to settle for a life of handouts from his upper class wife. Maybe Marion’s father, the King in this version, should only agree if she becomes a commoner and helps run the charity.
After interval, Act 2 brightens up when we meet Friar Tuck’s half-brother, the Muslim ruler of an unnamed “Middle East” country. On the entertainment side, Dave Smith does a wonderful marriage ceremony singing Love Me Tender as Friar Tuck, and runs a mean casbah as Sheik Yabooty. His character also raised the satiric standard which should be waved in all good pantomimes, and could offend some in his references to The Prophet among bare midriffs and, on the other hand, as Friar Tuck again, to his double standards “after all, I do work for the Church.” Mind you, it was Robin, cross-dressed in harem gear, who questioned Tuck’s standards.
With more laughs for small people in Act 1, like the yucky food competition at the end, and knowing that the pace of the show will improve as the young players gain experience, Robin Hood will entertain while achieving Ickle Pickle’s community theatre aims.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Theatre should be judged in its context. Ickle Pickle is essentially a community theatre. Robin Hood is as much about teaching and giving stage experience to young performers, in this case from age 9, as it is about entertaining young and old in the audience.
The choreography is mostly routine but by using popular songs (often with drastically re-written lyrics) and keeping the timing upbeat and precise, Hannah McFadden and musical director Adam Bluhm kept our interest in the musical numbers at the opening performance.
The script has a number of good ideas like Robin Hood gaining a pardon by turning from theft to running a legitimate charity for the poor, but the exposition early in Act 1 was a bit dull, especially for young ones in the audience. The traditional theme of the contest between The Sheriff and Robin for the hand of Maid Marion is played out with several interesting twists, but I wondered what happened to the notion of charity. Robin wins, of course, but seems to settle for a life of handouts from his upper class wife. Maybe Marion’s father, the King in this version, should only agree if she becomes a commoner and helps run the charity.
After interval, Act 2 brightens up when we meet Friar Tuck’s half-brother, the Muslim ruler of an unnamed “Middle East” country. On the entertainment side, Dave Smith does a wonderful marriage ceremony singing Love Me Tender as Friar Tuck, and runs a mean casbah as Sheik Yabooty. His character also raised the satiric standard which should be waved in all good pantomimes, and could offend some in his references to The Prophet among bare midriffs and, on the other hand, as Friar Tuck again, to his double standards “after all, I do work for the Church.” Mind you, it was Robin, cross-dressed in harem gear, who questioned Tuck’s standards.
With more laughs for small people in Act 1, like the yucky food competition at the end, and knowing that the pace of the show will improve as the young players gain experience, Robin Hood will entertain while achieving Ickle Pickle’s community theatre aims.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday, 11 January 2008
2008: Ngapartji Ngapartji, by Scott Rankin and Trevor Jamieson
Ngapartji Ngapartji, written by Scott Rankin and co-creator Trevor Jamieson. Director, Scott Rankin for Big hART. Musical director, Damian Mason. Sydney Festival and Company B at Belvoir Street Theatre on Tuesdays 6.30pm, Wednesdays – Saturdays 8pm, Sundays 5pm, January 11 to February 10. Bookings: Company B 02 9699 3444 or www.sydneyfestival.org.au
“A very, very powerful, graceful, moving work” is how Federal Minister for the Arts, Peter Garrett, described to me this family history of Spinifex man Trevor Jamieson. I and the rest of the audience on opening night could not have agreed more. A standing ovation said everything about the quality of the performance and the tears said “Sorry” as it should have been said many years ago. The Pitjantjatjara people deserve a great deal more than an apology for the devastation Australian governments have caused.
The title means “I give you something, you give me something”. The Jamieson story shows that Aboriginal people have been giving time and time again, since the first British horsemen arrived in their country, with no by-your-leave. Next were Afghans and camels, the effects of two world wars, and worst of all the explosion of 9 major nuclear bombs and many smaller bomb trials from 1953 to 1965 which killed and irradiated very many Pitjantjatjara and other central Australian people. Jamieson’s parents were orphans, literally refugees from their own country.
But still they keep giving, through the Big hART program which you can participate in at www.ninti.ngapartji.org and in the resilience they demonstrate to all of us in this production. Whatever traumas we or our forebears have faced and survived, these people have faced at least as much and still perform with strength and hope.
Their narrative is told in song, dance and storytelling in a form that reminded me of ancient Greek theatre. The senior women who lead the audience in song and action, who sing such strong harmony, and bring calm and acceptance in times of trouble, are a baseline of security in the play, just as they are in real life. They, especially, make us feel respect for country and culture. With new Ministers in a new Government, let us hope that this “powerful, graceful, moving work” helps to persuade people with the power to have the grace to move Australia to give in return in full measure.
Being at Ngapartji Ngapartji is an experience which you should not miss.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
“A very, very powerful, graceful, moving work” is how Federal Minister for the Arts, Peter Garrett, described to me this family history of Spinifex man Trevor Jamieson. I and the rest of the audience on opening night could not have agreed more. A standing ovation said everything about the quality of the performance and the tears said “Sorry” as it should have been said many years ago. The Pitjantjatjara people deserve a great deal more than an apology for the devastation Australian governments have caused.
The title means “I give you something, you give me something”. The Jamieson story shows that Aboriginal people have been giving time and time again, since the first British horsemen arrived in their country, with no by-your-leave. Next were Afghans and camels, the effects of two world wars, and worst of all the explosion of 9 major nuclear bombs and many smaller bomb trials from 1953 to 1965 which killed and irradiated very many Pitjantjatjara and other central Australian people. Jamieson’s parents were orphans, literally refugees from their own country.
But still they keep giving, through the Big hART program which you can participate in at www.ninti.ngapartji.org and in the resilience they demonstrate to all of us in this production. Whatever traumas we or our forebears have faced and survived, these people have faced at least as much and still perform with strength and hope.
Their narrative is told in song, dance and storytelling in a form that reminded me of ancient Greek theatre. The senior women who lead the audience in song and action, who sing such strong harmony, and bring calm and acceptance in times of trouble, are a baseline of security in the play, just as they are in real life. They, especially, make us feel respect for country and culture. With new Ministers in a new Government, let us hope that this “powerful, graceful, moving work” helps to persuade people with the power to have the grace to move Australia to give in return in full measure.
Being at Ngapartji Ngapartji is an experience which you should not miss.
©Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday, 10 January 2008
2008: Au Revoir Parapluie by James Thierree
Au Revoir Parapluie by James Thierree. Contemporary circus in the Sydney Festival at Sydney Theatre, Walsh Bay. Tuesday to Sunday 8pm until January 27. Sydney Theatre 02 9250 1999, Festival Ticketek 1300 888 412 or www.sydneyfestival.org
Thierree has brought both more and less to this year’s Sydney Festival, in his third presentation following The Junebug Symphony (2003) and Bright Abyss (2006). Last Thursday, the energy and drive of all the performers – Thierree, Kaori Ito, Satchie Noro, Magnus Jakobsson and Maria Sendow – was perhaps greater, while the theme is simpler. The result was better entertainment than Junebug, but less seriousness of meaning than Bright Abyss.
Acrobatic rope work, gymnastic dance and clowning in mime, form the focus of attention in Au Revoir Parapluie, with a great deal more direct communication with the audience and much more humour than previously. This a major strength of the show which kept the audience thoroughly engaged for the full 90 minutes. It is a joyful celebration which had us enthusiastically clapping in time to a fast beat for three curtain calls.
Rather than the imagery, which is Thierree’s forte, being linked into a tight narrative, the whimsical umbrella (to which in Aussie parlance we might say “See ya!”) is a briefly spun symbol of enjoyment of life’s activities, among many which invoke industry and agriculture, family ups and downs, and the arrival seemingly out of nowhere of the unexpected. Disruptions ,even eruptions, become challenges as much as frustrations. If there is a theme, it’s something like Life goes on despite everything, and what happens is funny at least as often as not.
Although the images were of the past rather than the post-industrial world, and might be seen as a bit old-fashioned, I enjoyed a stage show in which only the sound track was electronic (and very effective), while the action, both of the performers and the mechanical apparatus of the set, was big and physically impressive. The show seemed much larger than a mere five performers could create, and the audience responded in kind.
Thierree, a grandson of Charlie Chaplin, has done his family tradition proud.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Thierree has brought both more and less to this year’s Sydney Festival, in his third presentation following The Junebug Symphony (2003) and Bright Abyss (2006). Last Thursday, the energy and drive of all the performers – Thierree, Kaori Ito, Satchie Noro, Magnus Jakobsson and Maria Sendow – was perhaps greater, while the theme is simpler. The result was better entertainment than Junebug, but less seriousness of meaning than Bright Abyss.
Acrobatic rope work, gymnastic dance and clowning in mime, form the focus of attention in Au Revoir Parapluie, with a great deal more direct communication with the audience and much more humour than previously. This a major strength of the show which kept the audience thoroughly engaged for the full 90 minutes. It is a joyful celebration which had us enthusiastically clapping in time to a fast beat for three curtain calls.
Rather than the imagery, which is Thierree’s forte, being linked into a tight narrative, the whimsical umbrella (to which in Aussie parlance we might say “See ya!”) is a briefly spun symbol of enjoyment of life’s activities, among many which invoke industry and agriculture, family ups and downs, and the arrival seemingly out of nowhere of the unexpected. Disruptions ,even eruptions, become challenges as much as frustrations. If there is a theme, it’s something like Life goes on despite everything, and what happens is funny at least as often as not.
Although the images were of the past rather than the post-industrial world, and might be seen as a bit old-fashioned, I enjoyed a stage show in which only the sound track was electronic (and very effective), while the action, both of the performers and the mechanical apparatus of the set, was big and physically impressive. The show seemed much larger than a mere five performers could create, and the audience responded in kind.
Thierree, a grandson of Charlie Chaplin, has done his family tradition proud.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
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