Friday 3 May 2024

2024: The Actress by Peter Quilter

 

 

The Actress by Peter Quilter.  Canberra Rep, May 2 – 18 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
Opening Night May 3

CREDITS
Director: Aarne Neeme AM; Director’s Asst: Mandy Brown

Set Designer: Andrew Kay; Set Coordinator: Russell Brown OAM
Costume Designer: Anna Senior OAM
Lighting Designer: Mike Moloney; Sound Designer: Neville Pye
Stage Manager: Paul Jackson

CAST
Lydia – Liz St Clair Long; Katherine – Sally Rynveld; Charles – Saban Berrell
Harriet – Jane Ahlquist; Nicole – Kate Harris; Paul – Rob de Fries; Margaret – Jazmin Skopal



Anton Chekhov is having a bit of a revival on the Canberra scene.  In a kind of parallel to Chaika Theatre’s Irina Nikolayevna Arkadina, the famous actress played by Karen Vickery in their very recent production of Seagull (reviewed here April 11 2024), Peter Quilter’s play The Actress  is about a famous actress, Lydia, played by Liz St Clair Long, ending her career playing Liubov Andryeevna in The Cherry Orchard.

In a cleverly designed set and lighting arrangement, we see Lydia in her long-standing dressing room (at the Old Vic perhaps) where she has installed a very comfortable couch, before going on stage. Then we see her, apparently from backstage, performing towards the end of Chekhov’s Act Two, and returning to her dressing room for interval (ours as well as hers).  We see her on stage, again from behind, in Chekhov’s Act Four, before her last return to her dressing room and her final exit from life as an actress – in parallel to Liuba’s final loss of her cherry orchard.

So Liz St Clair Long is actually an actress playing the fictional once-removed Lydia, an acclaimed actress afraid to go on any more, playing the fictional twice removed Liuba, afraid of what will happen to her, sobbing “Oh my darling, my precious, my beautiful orchard! My life, my youth, my happiness …goodbye!…Goodbye!”

This gives Liz two roles to play, in a sense both at once, with an extra twist at the end of Quilter’s play.  She has left her dressing room forever, but then appears on stage – as Lydia in her final curtain call – giving her farewell speech, but now directly to us, as if we have switched positions from backstage to auditorium and have become her fictional audience.  

And what a wonderful speech it was!  While nutting out what she might say, Lydia thinks Chekhov could write this better.  A nice little joke by Peter Quilter about himself, I guess.

In addition to the success of Liz St Clair Long creating this often difficult character – Lydia is very often very like Liubov Andreyeevna – Aarne Neeme has made sure that The Actress is a comedy.  There are many laughs as Lydia deals over-the-top with her dressing room guests – daughter Nicole, ex-husband Paul, new (old) beau Charles, her director’s lover-offsider theatre manager Margaret, her agent Harriet and her dresser Katherine – much funnier than Chekhov’s often dark, if not entirely black comedy with social criticism built-in.

Lydia’s character could be seen as undermining people’s assumptions about famous people who may not be as perfect as they seem, but Rep’s production sensibly keeps the play more light-hearted.  You will not forget the comfortable couch.

Though it’s not exactly an exciting production – because, I think, the playscript has weaknesses in setting up the relationships between the characters – it’s certainly interesting.  Jane Ahlquist’s agent Harriet is something to behold;  Sally Rynveld’s dresser Katherine puts her famous charge in her place; Jasmin Skopal’s Margaret is suitably annoying, even vindictive; Kate Harris’ daughter Nicole is a rather mixed up young adult which is not surprising when her father Paul, played especially well by Rob de Fries, keeps turning up to mess things up with his now famous ex-wife; while Saban Berrell’s too-nice old admirer now-fiancĂ© Charles quietly engages our sympathy.  How he and Lydia will succeed in having a quiet life of snow and chocolates in Switzerland remains a mystery.

Enjoy. 

 

 

Liz St Clair Long as Lydia
in The Actress by Peter Quilter
Canberra REP 2024
Photo supplied

©Frank McKone, Canberra


Thursday 2 May 2024

Humans 2.0 by Circa

 

 


 Humans 2.0 by Circa.  Canberra Theatre Centre Playhouse, May 2-4 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
Opening Night May 2


CREDITS
Director Yaron Lifschitz
Original Music Ori Lichtik; Lighting Designer Paul Jackson
Costume Design Libby McDonnell; Technical Director Jason Organ
Danielle Kellie / Circa Australia & New Zealand
Photos: Lesley Martin; David Kelly

Performed by 10 Circa acrobats


Humans 2.0 is incredible – it is truly unbelievable that this company of dance-drama gymnasts can maintain such energy, such discipline, such complexity of choreography, such humour, and so often create such fear and relief in us, for a straight 70 minutes – and look so much at ease during our ecstatic applause for the group as a whole and for each individual performer in their curtain call.

I had wondered about the title – Humans Two Point Zero – and now I understand its layers of meaning.


The play begins with separated beings and ends with the creation of community.  Humans 1.0, through seeking sincere self-expression and all the possible ways of linking with others – with absolute trust, deep respect, and equal recognition – become Humans 2.0.

At that level, the work of art is the model for us all.  This is human community at its best.  This is what the world should look like.  What we all wish it would look like.  What it could look like.  If only we humans really tried.

Then what is absolutely stunning is to realise that this company of performers actually tried and really succeed as Humans 2.0.  We could see in each performer their personal dedication to self-expression through movement.  We saw their absolute trust in each other, as people were literally flung and caught across the space and balanced up to four high.  We could see the deep respect everyone had for everyone else – forming a bond with enormous strength, emotionally as well as in physical form.



In this company balanced in numbers of women and men, we saw all as equals – in gymnastic skills, in taking real risks, in being supported – and especially in initiating moves and taking responsibility.

Their show is not just an acting out of an idea, as entertainment or even as a moral tale.  Their ensemble teamwork is a demonstration of sincere theatre, which works so well because of the real bond the group has formed in creating the work.

As I left the theatre, returning to concerns with current issues in our society – about coercive control, men’s belief in their entitlement, and their killing of women, for example – I wished that it were possible for everyone in the world to see Circa’s Humans 2.0.  And learn to become Humans, Two Point Zero – please!

Humans 2.0 by Circa

©Frank McKone, Canberra