Friday 27 November 2009

2009: Not Axel Harrison by Sam Floyd.

Not Axel Harrison by Sam Floyd.  Freshly Ground Theatre at The Street Two, November 26 – December 5 2009 (excluding Sundays and Mondays) at 8pm.   
Freshly Ground Theatre has carved a small but attractive niche in Canberra’s theatrical architecture.  The company is the vehicle for the writer Sam Floyd, whose work continues to show flair in this, their third, production. 

Not Axel Harrison is a parody of the gangster movie genre in which the hit man Axel Harrison (Tom Watson) is killed by his intended victim,Chris, a non-violent florist (Chris Brain) who disguises himself as Harrison not only to avoid detection as a murderer but to escape the attention of the gangster loan-shark Poncioni (David MacNamara)to whom he owes a large sum, which is why Poncioni had sent Harrison.

At this point the plot, involving the non-appearing Bruce (apparently already killed by Harrison), the dim-witted bodyguard Val (Adam Salter), Poncioni’s sexy aggressive daughter Donna (Becky Bergman), Micky the Mule (Jack Dyball), and the corrupt cop in Poncioni’s pocket, Spiegel (Daniel McCusker), follows a constantly twisted line of logic which should not be revealed here: better to see the play and be surprised.  Suffice to say, farce is the order of the day.

The performances varied in strength, with the commendations going to McNamara and Salter.  But the generation X, Y or Z audience was not looking for highly polished acting from a cast of their peers.  It was the dialogue and plot which carried the laughs, making for a successful light entertainment.

Floyd’s work has antecedents in Joe Orton’s Loot and Tom Stoppard’s The Real Inspector Hound.  Both those writers had the advantage of being able to participate in the British repertory and university traditions in their day.  Freshly Ground’s niche is in this mould, but Canberra cannot boast the equivalent of the Cambridge University Footlights, the progenitor of much zany British comedy since the 1960s.

Maybe this is the time for Floyd and those around him to take up where Elbow Theatre left off and build our own Capital new wave of original young writers.

© Frank McKone, Canberra

Friday 20 November 2009

2009: Porcelain by Chay Yew.

Porcelain by Chay Yew. 

Director: Beng Oh.  Lighting Designer: Nick Merrylees.  Cast: Keith Brockett (John Lee); Colin MacPherson (Voice One/Dr Worthing); Nicholas Barker-Pendree (Voice Two/Mr Lee); Paul David-Goddard (Voice Three/Alan White); Leon Dürr (Voice Four/William Hope).

At The Street Theatre Studio, Canberra, 3-7 November 2009 (original production at La Mama, Melbourne, 2008)

This production of Porcelain, about a gay relationship which turns sour and results in a tragic death, was presented at The Street in its most spare form.  Just five plain chairs, John Lee in the centre surrounded by red paper cranes more of which he continues to make throughout the play.

This was Chay Yew’s first play, from 1993. His imagery is strongly reminiscent of Kathryn Schultz Miller’s A Thousand Cranes, a play for children which tells the true and poignant story of Sadako Saki’s battle against radiation sickness after the Hiroshima bomb and the tradition of folding origami miniatures according to which if a sick person folds a thousand cranes, the gods will grant her a wish and make her healthy. Is John Lee sick?  Can, or should, the prison psychiatrist find him unfit to plead on a murder charge?

But it is the dialogue which still brings the horror to life.  All five actors are seated with little movement except on one occasion when John Lee is caressed by his lover.  Now I am reminded of that other play for voices, Dylan Thomas’s Under Milk Wood.  Though famous as a BBC radio play, its first performance was recorded by five actors standing on stage at the 92nd Street Young Men's and Young Women's Hebrew Association, Manhattan, in 1953.  As the Reverend Eli Jenkins, Thomas made the only movement, stepping forward to declaim his morning prayer.  Porcelain and Under Milk Wood are entirely different plays, yet the quality of the interplay between the voices is the strength in both cases, and it is to Beng Ho’s credit that he maintains that focus, avoiding the temptation to represent action physically.  As is often the case in good theatre, less is more.

Especially well done in the performance I saw was the exposure of the conflicts and compromises made in the dialogue between the television interviewer and the prison psychiatrist, all happening on the sidelines of the real story of what John Lee did and why.  Not only is the play worth seeing for its only too human story, but this production successfully worked our feelings and our intellects in coming to terms with the complexities of destructive relationships.

©Frank McKone, Canberra