Saturday 30 July 2022

2022: Terrain - Bangarra Dance Theatre

 

Terrain by Bangarra Dance Theatre. Canberra Theatre Centre July 28-30, 2022.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
July 30

Choreographer – Frances Rings; Composer – David Page
Set Designer – Jacob Nash; Costume Designer – Jennifer Irwin
Lighting Designer – Karen Norris
Cultural Consultant – Arabunna Elder Reginald Dodd
Rehearsal Director – Daniel Roberts; Remount Consultant – Deborah Brown

Bangarra Dancers
Beau Dean Riley Smith; Rikki Mason; Glory Tuohy-Daniell; Ryan Pearson
Lillian Banks; Courtney Radford; Kallum Goolagong; Gusta Mara; Kiarn Doyle
Emily Flannery; Maddison Paluch; Daniel Mateo; Janaya Lamb; James Boyd
Chantelle Lee Lockhart

For the first 1 minute of 60 minutes, the stage backdrop is ghastly, bright, flat, white light: the last 234 years.  Fade to black for more than 60,000 years: a small circle of sunlight begins to reveal the First People.  Their story says ‘Always Here; Always Will Be’.  Terrain is from the heart.

A friend said he would have liked it to begin with an aerial photo of “Lake Eyre – Kati Thanda – [which] is one of the largest lakes in the southern hemisphere.  The monsoonal rains off the coast of Queensland travel down through the Channel Country spilling into South Australia’s Lake Eyre basin which is 9,500 square kms.  Uncle Reg Dodd, an Arabunna elder, told me to tell the story of Country from our urban perspective.” (Frances Rings Reflects on Terrain).  

But I know, as the backdrop changes with the development of the people, that this art is not a romance needing a pretty picture to begin.  We who are not First People need to know the truth of these blank white years.

In that very Channel Country “The careful time-honoured ecological balance was drastically disrupted by the arrival of large cattle herds, which crowded around and polluted accessible waterholes and billabongs.  The Kalkadoons raided the pioneer stations, spearing cattle and retreating into the rugged hills.  When stockmen and miners [at Cloncurry] were killed, the Native Police were called in.  The first punitive expedition was carried out in 1879 [101 years after the invasion began] in response to the killing of a stockman called Molvo.  But the low-level conflict continued, accompanied by persistent demands from cattlemen and the townspeople in Cloncurry for further police action….

“Their opportunity to take revenge came when the Kalkadoons killed the well-known station owner JW Powell…. ‘For every one of [his] poor bones / A Kalkadoon shall die’…. The punitive campaign ended in September 1884, when the troopers caught up with a Kalkadoon band on a rugged hill that came to be known as Battle Mountain…. [It is estimated] that in the punitive expeditions between 1878 and 1884 at least 500 Kalkadoons died and the toll may have been as high as 900.” (Henry Reynolds: Forgotten War, page 204-5, revised edition 2022).

It’s now ten years since I saw the original performance of Terrain, (reviewed on this blog September 13, 2012).  I didn’t note the white beginning then, but Reynolds’ updating of his 2013 history has changed my ‘urban perspective’.  Reynolds ends his book with “ When considering war overseas, Australians are admonished to remember forever those who did not return.  ‘Lest We Forget’ is not so much a phrase as a sacred incantation.  It provides the guiding spirit for the miscellany of monuments at the eastern end of Canberra’s Lake Burley Griffin in and adjacent to the Australian War Memorial….  On the other side of the lake Reconciliation Place manifests a very different attitude to Australia’s own wars.  The guiding phrase there is not ‘Lest We Forget’ but rather ‘Best we forget the conquest’.”

I wrote very positively in 2012: “David Page and Frances Rings, speaking at the pre-show forum, said that dance is its own language, so it is difficult to explain in words.  The best I can do is to describe Terrain as a symphonic poem in nine movements, however trite, old-fashioned and European that sounds” and compared the quality of the art  of Rings and Page with that of greats like Brahms, T.S.Eliot and Jackson Pollack.

The international recognition of Terrain since then, and the performance I saw today, fully justifies such comparisons.  But what an ‘urban perspective’ that was.  Today I sadly felt the absence of David Page, whose passing still haunts me, especially when absorbing the sound he created with Frances as she choreographed this artwork for and by the oldest continuing culture on earth.  

For Frances Rings, soon taking on her role as Artistic Director of Bangarra Dance Theatre from David’s brother Stephen as he retires, opening with Terrain is a triumph.  It will surely play its part in changing Reynolds’ concluding fear that “The process of reconciliation may have brought some people closer together, but white history and black history are as far apart as ever.”  

Voice, treaty and truth is the future.  


 


 

 © Frank McKone, Canberra

 

Thursday 28 July 2022

2022: The One by Vanessa Bates

 

 

The One by Vanessa Bates.  Ensemble Theatre, Sydney, July 22 – August 27, 2022.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
Opening Night July 28

Cast
Helen - Gabrielle Chan;  Mel - Angie Diaz;  Jess - Aileen Huynh
Cal - Damien Strouthos;  Eric - Shan-Ree Tan

Understudies: Sam O’sullivan, Monica Sayers & Gareth Yuen

Creatives
Director - Darren Yap
Assistant Director - Sophie Kelly;  Dramaturg - Sarah Odillo Maher
Set & Costume Designer - Nick Fry
Lighting Designer - Verity Hampson
Composer & Sound Designer - Michael Tan
Choreographer - Angie Diaz
Makeup Artist, Hair & Wig Stylist - Lindsey Chapman

Photos by Prudence Upton

In this new play by Vanessa Bates, the story of The One is complicated – in the right sense for comedy, but equally seriously for people coping with living between cultures, of different kinds.  Multiculturalism is not always so amusing when it’s all in one family.

Eric and Mel re-enact their childhood performance
Shan-Ree Tan and Angie Diaz
in The One by Vanessa Bates

In Act One the play is clearly written to be funny – and it is.  But you may sense there’s something odd about the brother, Eric, and his seemingly dominating sister, Mel; about Mel’s relationship with her boyfriend Cal – which began when they appeared together on a reality ‘Getting Married’ TV show; and about what they all think of Eric and Mel’s Malaysian mother, Helen.  

That’s all complicated enough until Jess, the Chinese waitress now running Jim’s Oriental Restaurant, blasts her way into the younger one’s attempt to take Helen down memory lane – not to celebrate her birthday but, as she says, to celebrate her survival.

Aileen Huynh as Jess

Aileen Huynh (Jess) and Gabrielle Chan as Helen
at the table set with the lazy susan

But then, if you felt just a bit tentative about why you were laughing in Act One, Act Two, focussed around the lazy susan of what might have been an Aussie Chinese restaurant celebration, jumps up to an unexpected – and terribly funny – level of absurdity until, equally unexpectedly, laughter at becomes empathy with each member, each one, of this complicated family.  In particular, what will Mel decide about her future with Cal, considering what happened about the children’s father?

Damien Strouthos and Angie Diaz
as Cal and Mel in The One

Vanessa Bates’ writing is highly original because she takes the risk of sitting on the knife-edge where the absurdity of reality is at the same time devastating and comic.  Director Darren Yap and his design team match the author’s originality in every way – in the use of video, props and stage furniture, choreography (when 9 and 12 the brother and sister had won an Australian Asian Ballroom Dancing competition!); not forgetting make-up, hair and costume (for Eric in particular) – and especially the creation in sound of the final central character, Fifi / Spike: Helen’s dog, who is The One who really matters.

The community feeling which is the mark of Ensemble Theatre becomes part of the play as we find ourselves being the characters’ audience as well as the actors’ audience – another risky but clever device by Vanessa Bates.  So even while Australians’ racism is exposed, the curtain call is a celebration of the real culturally-mixed cast of quite extraordinary performers.

Another Ensemble success not to be missed.

Angie Diaz and Shan-Ree Tan as sister and brother Mel and Eric
lighting joss sticks together
in The One by Vanessa Bates
Ensemble Theatre, Sydney 2022

© Frank McKone, Canberra

Sunday 24 July 2022

2022: An Eye for Talent by John Clark

 

Cover design: Katy Wall
 

An Eye for Talent – A life at NIDA by John Clark.  Coach House Books, Currency Press, Sydney, 2022.  
Foreword by editor Nick Parsons. www.currency.com.au  
Contact: enquiries@currency.com.au

Reviewed by Frank McKone

We critics indulge in our feelings in response to what actors do to entertain us, but how much do we understand about how great actors – so many of whom have been trained at NIDA – create our sense of satisfaction, gain our appreciation and our applause for their work?

John Clark served on the staff of the newly established National Institute of Dramatic Art from 1960 until 1969 when he was appointed director, a position he held until his retirement at the end of 2004.  This record of his forty-four year life at NIDA explains why the way actors are taught there has made NIDA recognised as arguably the best drama school in the world.  This is not boasting like Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.  It’s because NIDA actors are taught how to think their way into creating the feelings we respond to.

I never went to NIDA.  After all, surely my only sensible choice in 1958 was the prestigious University of Sydney; definitely not that upstart technical college now called the University of New South Wales.  Yet, by some kind of osmosis, my thoughts on drama turned out to be much more in tune with what Robert Quentin had in mind as the just-appointed director of a school for actors at UNSW, which became NIDA, than with the only drama activity at Sydney, where the Sydney University Drama Society (SUDS) were focussed on presenting melodramas.  There was no undergraduate course in drama, so I took up politics with the Labour Club instead.

My reviews since retiring from teaching, published here, show my long-abiding interest in George Bernard Shaw from my teenage days and my Masters thesis (1972).  Now John Clark reveals an amazing link to Shaw, Pygmalion and the My Fair Lady movie I saw in 1958, on Page 207-8.  Clark had earlier explained that his approach had long been opposed to the American Method actor training, where actors were to focus their characterisation work on their own experience of feelings.  He had them research their character, and that character’s social and even political world, and then to focus on thinking about how that character would behave – and in this way create that character’s feelings which are communicated to the audience.

This means that the actor-in-training, though learning skills of voice and movement, does not then ‘obey’ her teacher/director but through research and thinking becomes an independent creator of the character.  The teacher is successful when the student no longer needs direction.  Here is Clark’s example:


Acting remained the central course. It set out to teach young artists how to transform their voice, their body, their emotional life and their thinking according to the demands of the character they were playing and the play’s imaginary world – exactly what Professor Henry Higgins tries to achieve in George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion. Shaw knew what acting was all about; a performer himself, he also taught acting at the London Royal Academy of Dramatic Art and bequeathed the rights to his best-known play to his old school. The difference between the ending of the play and the ending of the musical adaptation is striking.


My Fair Lady ends with a blazing row between teacher and student.  Eliza storms out, but not for long. She returns to Professor Higgins and the implication is they will marry and live happily ever after. The play ends differently. Eliza says to Higgins, ‘You can’t take away the knowledge you gave me … ! I’ll go and be a teacher … what you taught me … phonetics’. Higgins is thrilled. This is exactly what he wanted to hear. ‘Five minutes ago, you were like a millstone around my neck.  Now you are a tower of strength.’


Throughout An Eye for Talent, as we find out about what happened to NIDA from its Tin Shed days to Clark’s retirement when “Astonishingly, less than 50 years from its inception, NIDA was included in the International Theatre Institute’s list of the ten best theatre schools in the world”, you will find stories and comments on the process of theatre work which will surely make connections for you – whether as performer, audience member, as teacher, or even as reviewer.

Two Canberra connections, for example, are Karen Vickery, very prominent currently at The Hub, and Ken Healey, one time reviewer for The Canberra Times.  Both were graduates who later taught Theatre History and General Studies at NIDA in John Clark’s time.  

Ken reviewed me – before he taught at NIDA.  He observed one of my group improvisation classes at Hawker College and gave me the title “The Invisible Man” because, once the action was set up and underway, I had disappeared behind the curtain to watch without interfering in the drama being created by the students.  For me, a Professor Henry Higgins moment.

Though I had not gone to NIDA I had been to World Education Fellowship summer schools in movement and improvisation with the indomitable Margaret Barr in my early years of teaching (English, of course, before Drama became a separate subject). Clark writes


Margaret Barr reminded me of Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage, charging through life with a single-minded, ruthless determination to survive…. What mattered to her was the human body and its capacity for supple, expressive and dynamically energetic movement.  She despised prettiness, elegance, lightness and grace. The body had weight and substance and, unlike in classical ballet, the floor was the actor’s best friend. Her morning exercises would have exhausted the Australian rugby football team. Miss Barr also taught Improvisation: acting exercises without a script that encouraged young actors to create directly from their own experience; to think, imagine and feel from the heart, rather than ‘having plays thrust upon them’, presumably by directors and teachers of Theatre History [ie John Clark at that time]. So much of what she taught was fundamental to good acting: truthfulness, honesty, simplicity and clarity. She detested pretence, emotional demonstration and generalized acting. Everything the actor did had to come from an inner impulse: what she called ‘the inward motivation of the outward gesture’.

Apart from personal lucky links of this kind, An Eye for Talent is hugely informative about the experiences, backgrounds and future lives of hundreds of the actors, production students and directors who ‘got into NIDA’ – so often against the wishes of their parents, as Clark recalls:

Perth-born Jason Chan wanted to become an actor after leaving school, but his parents were opposed, so he studied medicine and became a doctor like his father. Only then, having fulfilled his parents’ wishes, did he audition successfully for NIDA, paying his way by doing locums each weekend. His first acting job was in Spain with Playhouse Disney presenting children’s television programs for Asia. He then became the Green Power Ranger and now has his own film production company in Singapore.

Stories like this provide us with an understanding of the changing times not just in Australian theatre but in Australia, from White Australia to Multicultural Australia, and at last to the increasing acceptance and appreciation of Indigenous Australia.

The 14th Chapter is titled with a quote from Twelfth Night: Foolery Doth Walk About The Orb.  Like all good drama the through-line has to reach some kind of climactic point.  Clark had announced his intended departure as Director some years before 2004 to allow for finding a suitable replacement, but he remained a Member of the NIDA company.  What can only be called the NIDA Tragedy of Governance following his retirement is dramatic reading indeed.

Of course, the drama e non finita.  A takeover of the Board by business and academic interests, rather than experienced theatre practitioners operating as an arts-centred organisation, may be working to a dénoument after catastrophe, as NIDA reported on 4th May 2020:


NIDA has been ranked in the top 5 of The Hollywood Reporter’s world’s best drama schools for an undergraduate degree. The Reporter’s international ranking of acting schools places NIDA in the top echelons, along with Carnegie Mellon and New York’s Juilliard School.

The Hollywood Reporter canvassed alumni, instructors and top theatre and Hollywood pros to arrive at its list. The stringent ranking took into account management and staff, guest mentors and visiting artists, recent graduates’ notable film, TV and theatre credits, and buildings and facilities.

For The Hollywood Reporter, NIDA was proud to list its achievements. These include Director of Acting, John Bashford, the former Head of Acting and Vice Principal at London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art (LAMDA). Iconic Australian actor Sigrid Thornton and NIDA alumnus and Sydney Theatre Company Artistic Director, Kip Williams have been appointed to NIDA’s Board of Directors to help shape the future of the institute.


Hope is eternal, and so is my fascination with John Clark’s story not merely of having an eye for talent, but for giving NIDA the life it, and the theatre world, deserved.  It is important also to understand the remarkable professional relationship Clark had throughout with his General Manager, Elizabeth Butcher.  During the period of crisis a figure of doom stated that a company cannot be run by two bosses.  However true that may be for a private business, for an arts institution based on the educational principle of learning through group cooperation, because that kind of teamwork produces the best art, the cooperative leadership over four decades by Clark and Butcher is an outstanding example of good in the world.

And finally, Clark demonstrates this approach in the creation of the book itself, when he writes in Acknowledgements:

"Many thanks, too, to Nick Parsons [son of Currency Press founder, Katharine Brisbane, and NIDA Graduate] whose extensive edits were probably made in revenge for my bold cuts and re-arrangement of scenes in at least two of his plays. I have to admit, Nick’s advice has invariably been spot on."

An Eye for Talent – A life at NIDA is essential reading for any theatre critic – and isn’t that everyone?





 

John Clark

 

 © Frank McKone, Canberra

Friday 22 July 2022

2022: This Changes Everything by Joel Horwood

 

 

This Changes Everything by Joel Horwood (Script available Tonic Theatre, UK).  Echo Theatre - Youth at The Q, Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre, July 22 – 30, 2022.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
July 22

Director – Jordan Best; Set Design – Jordan Best & Ray Simpson;
Lighting Design – Jacob Aquilina; Original Music – William Best
Costumes – Jordan Best & the company

Cast: Stephanie Stephens (Tuva); Indi Mullins (Moa); Georgia Hollis (Klara)
Abigail Lawler (Malin); Callum Doherty (Alva); Jade Breen (Maja)
William Best (Basic Jane); Char Hopper (Elin); Genevieve Bradley (Agnes)
Zoe Ross (Ali); Shara Murdoch (Lucy); Tara Rose Blake (Kim);
Emma Richards (Evie); Kendra Robertson (Freya); Clare Coleman (Eve/Lisa)
Abigail Marceau (Henri); Phoebe Silberman (Sam/Hanne); Sebastian Leigh (Ebba)

The whole cast on set in
This Changes Everything
Echo Theatre - Youth 2022

Photo supplied
The idea is interesting, especially for the inaugural production by Echo Youth.  Young people meet online, disillusioned with the state of the world, and (quite impractically) relocate secretly on an isolated platform way out in the ocean.  There they expect to create a new society.  Perhaps they can change everything.  But they discover they are in the same boat as the rest of us – isolated on our only planet with all our human failings.

Klara, Kim and Alva manage to find The Community.  Kim brings a taser, with dire consequences later in the play.  They are talking to Eve and Evie:

ALVA. We’re looking for a place called ‘The Community’.
KLARA. Of course it’s ‘The Community’, Alva, they’re living
in the middle of the sea!
ALVA. Right. Wow. This place is like an urban legend.
As if watching a movie, EVE and EVIE open a bag of crisps
and begin sharing them with each other.

KLARA. She means that when you all disappeared, it was on
the news, on the front of papers, all these theories about how
you’d all just vanished. All on the same day. There were
some clues, not many, but some and these rumours started,
about a place called ‘The Community’.
ALVA. We’ve been trying to find it for ages.
ALI, EBBA and BASIC JANE arrive to watch. ALVA,
KLARA and KIM feel the pressure


On paper, the script may be promising for teenagers to use for its ideas.  But without trained actors the play easily becomes a lot of talk and little believable dramatic action, because characterisations are cardboard cutouts.  I often could not pick up what they were saying.  I didn’t feel the pressure along with Alva, Klara and Kim, though I could see what the characters were meant to be feeling.

The set design – apparently an abandoned fossil-fuel oil rig – could have made an ironic note.  But the attempt at realism was unbelievable, when pairs or small groups met to talk on apparently floating pods, and people could walk off the platform and disappear in all directions.  The result of this design was a complete lack of focus for the action.  Much of the speech was too fast and emotionally black or white, and often hardly understandable.

Perhaps the symbolism of the situation would have worked better on a plain, empty stage with an imaginary boundary within which all characters had to be present, with the emotional pressure rising after the boats were taken by those who wanted out.

The basic message about the need for the world as we know it to be changed for the better was obvious from the beginning, and the ending made it clear that change can only happen by working from within the whole world community.  But without characters for whom we could feel empathy, this presentation of This Changes Everything left me without any hope for the future, despite, as Jordan Best describes them, “this astonishing cast of smart, funny, engaged, socially and politically aware young actors”.  I appreciate their efforts and the sincerity of their intentions, and hope they have opportunities to develop more subtlety and depth of character in future drama work.

© Frank McKone, Canberra

Saturday 16 July 2022

2022: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë

 

 

Co-commissioned and developed by the National Institute of Dramatic Art (NIDA) and Sydney Theatre Company, Roslyn Packer Theatre, June 21 – July 16, 2022.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
July 16




Emme Hoy writes “I’m the same age Anne was when she wrote The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, and I think the sting in the tail of this story is how little has changed when the same story is tackled by two young women centuries (and continents) apart.”  

The novel, ending “Till then, farewell, Gilbert Markham.  Staningley, June 10th, 1847” is written in the form of letters and diary entries, and begins “You must go back with me to the autumn of 1827” as Markham begins his first letter to his brother-in-law, Jack Halford.  Jack had, at their last meeting, told stories about his youth to Gilbert, who had not responded in kind at the time.  Now he writes his story – of meeting and finally marrying Helen Graham – as a way of hoping to make up for his rudeness.

When reading the letters we are put in the position of Jack, but as the story proceeds, much of what is happening is written from an ‘absent author’ point of view, rather than as Markham’s personal observations.  Emme Hoy has very cleverly used ‘speaking directly’ to us at points of emotional tension by the characters in Markham’s story, including from Markham himself, so that we hear what all the characters think and feel about each other as the mystery of Helen Graham’s presence at Wildfell Hall is unravelled.

It’s not surprising, then, that ‘Acton Bell’ published the work in 3 volumes in 1848.  My Kindle has 554 pages.  

I found Emme Hoy’s two hour stage adaptation a wonderful surprise.  I can’t imagine the time and the imagination she has put into so successfully telling us the story in action, with every moment emotionally re-defining each character as they act upon and react to each other.  ‘Wildfell Hall’ is just so right for this den of suspicion, intrigue, violence, sexual impropriety – and even some hope.  

I can imagine something of the workshop process that must have made rehearsals into dramatic scenes in their own right until just the exact tone of voice, length of potent silence and height of emotional outburst became established.  For me, the closeness of the three women – writers Ann Brontë, Emme Hoy and director Jessica Arthur – and the power of their impact on the actors was clear and present throughout that two hours.

The relevance of seeing how the series of men treated Helen, talked about her (and women more generally) and behaved towards each other as males of the species cannot be questioned in the days of Grace Tame and Brittany Higgins.  Though the attitudes and actions of the women in this story require some critical thinking as well. The play’s presentation just as our election results were being finalised – think of those ‘teal’ women – looked like a great sense of timing, even if it must have been a matter of luck in these pandemic years.  

It was Covid-19 that prevented my wife and I reviewing The Tenant of Wildfell Hall at the beginning of the season as planned.  To catch up on its final day made those four vaccinations and anti-virals of more worth than I can find words to say.





Tuuli Narkle as Helen Graham,
holding Danielle Catanzariti as her son, Arthur
in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Sydney Theatre Company 2022

Photo by Prudence Upton

© Frank McKone, Canberra

2022: Urinetown The Musical - Heart Strings Theatre

 

 

Urinetown The Musical. Music and lyrics by Mark Hollman; Book and lyrics by Greg Kotis.  Heart Strings Theatre Company at Canberra Theatre Centre, Courtyard Studio, July 14 – 24, 2022.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
Opening night July 15

Director / Founder Heart Strings: Ylaria Rogers
Musical Director: Leisa Keen
Choreographer: Annette Sharp
Costume Design & Construction: Helen Wojtas
Lighting Design – Linda Buck; Sound Design – Kyle Sheedy
Set Construction – Eryn Marshall & Cherylynn Holmes

Band:
Piano – Leisa Keen; Drums & Duck Whistle – Steve Richards
Reeds – Benn Sutcliffe; Euphonium & Trombone – Phil White


To describe Urinetown The Musical as farcical is, of course, to give the play and this production in particular a great compliment.  

As Wikipedia says: “Urinetown: The Musical is a satirical comedy musical that premiered in 2001, with music by Mark Hollmann, lyrics by Hollmann and Greg Kotis, and book by Kotis.  It satirizes the legal system, capitalism, social irresponsibility, populism, bureaucracy, corporate mismanagement, and municipal politics. The show also parodies musicals such as The Threepenny Opera, The Cradle Will Rock and Les Misérables, and the Broadway musical itself as a form.”

I’m sure I heard a bit of West Side Story in the music as well.

Interestingly, although the acoustics for amplified voices over an extraordinary live band were sometimes difficult in the Courtyard Studio, I thought the frantic style of this production probably worked better for a small audience in a confined space than it might have in a bigger theatre like the Playhouse – and it would have been lost in the 2000 seat main theatre.  

We felt personally engaged by Karen Vickery’s police officer/narrator Lockstock.  Barrel was there too, but their (gender was sometimes fluid in this show) manner towards us as well as to the cast (note the Brechtian alienation effect) and towards the characters was certainly a case of lock, stock and barrel (note the gun violence imagery).

And as well, the sincerity (as actors) of Petronella Van Tienen’s Hope Gladwell, of Max Gambale as her purely profit-making father Mr Gladwell, and perhaps even more in Joel Horwood’s presentation of the honesty in Bobby Strong, with strong support from Natasha Vickery as Little Sally and Deanna Farnell as Penny Wise, carried the drama sufficiently beyond simple farce.  We could even begin to believe in Hope’s recognition of her father’s iniquity and the need to remove him from her life – literally – in honour of her true love, Bobby, killed by police violence upholding ‘the law’.

The quality of the singing was exquisite, despite such complex yet marvellous choreography, matching the amazing range of musical effects from the band – from grand opera, through Southern Baptist spiritual, to trad and modern jazz.  This Urinetown The Musical is a joy to watch: an amusing farce with satirical implications, showing up the modern political economy.  But thanks to the goodness of heart of the Canberra Theatre Centre, I had three free pees before, at interval and after the show.  Very satisfying, and full of hope for another new Canberra artistic upwelling, Heart Strings Theatre Company.

The Company (out of order):

Lockstock – Karen Vickery; Pennywise – Deanna Farnell;
Hope Gladwell – Petronella Van Tiernen; Mr Gladwell – Max Gambale
Bobby Strong – Joel Horwood; McQueen – Alex McPherson
Little Sally – Natasha Vickery; Ma Strong / Senator Fipp – Joe Dinn
Barrel / Hot Blades Harry and Dance Captain – Glenn Brighenti
Pa Strong – Alexandra Pelvin; Little Becky – Katerina Smalley

Photo by Jane Duong




© Frank McKone, Canberra