Sunday, 29 September 2024

2024: The Queen's Nanny by Melanie Tait

 

 

The Queen’s Nanny by Melanie Tait.  Ensemble Theatre September 6 – October 12 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
September 28

Playwright: Melanie Tait
Director: Priscilla Jackman

Set Designer: Michael Hankin; Costume Designer: Genevieve Graham
Lighting Designer: Morgan Moroney;
Composer & Sound Designer: James Peter Brown
Dialect & Voice Coach: Jennifer White
Stage Manager: Sean Proude; Asst Stage Manager: Madelaine Osborn
Costume Supervisor: Lily Matelian
Secondments: Sherydan Simson, Chelsea McGuffin

Cast:

Duchess of York; later Queen Elizabeth; later again the Queen Mother – Emma Palmer
Marion Crawford‘Crawfie’: Elizabeth Blackmore
J, Nanny, Bertie, Ainslie, Lilibet, George, Bruce, Gould – Matthew Backer



There is really no better way to show you Matthew Backer in his wonderful long list of characters than in these production thumbnails, on the Ensemble site:
https://www.ensemble.com.au/shows/the-queens-nanny  

You’ll have to see the show, of course, to follow the story through all these scenes and more – a very full and highly satisfying 90 minutes.

Somewhere hidden in our house full of books, my wife is sure we must still have The Little Princesses; or perhaps it’s with one of our daughters.  She recalls the positive impact on her, aged 5 in 1950 when the book was published, towards the Royal Family.

I also remember, migrating from London as an anti-monarchist in 1955, being very surprised, while practice-teaching, to find the Australians in the group as Menzies-royalist as they come.

As the century morphed into Boris Johnson etc, I admit that I came to see Lilibet to be the highly astute woman that Crawfie helped make her.  Melanie Tait has written, and the Ensemble has presented, a terrific lively story of how The Little Princesses came to be written and published, almost as if in preparation for Lilibet’s accession to the throne as Elizabeth II.

But here’s the punchline.  In her Writer’s Note, Melanie Tait puts her work in context:

“I started working on this play around the time the Albanese Labor Government was voted in.

“Full of hope, I felt certain when the play got to the stage, we’d have lived through a successful Australian Indigenous Voice Referendum and, in an election year, movement would be ramping up about a new Republic Referendum.  I wanted this play to be part of that conversation.

“Instead, I write this note a week after a cabinet reshuffle, where, in the wake of last year’s referendum, the Albanese Government has abolished the Assistant Ministry for the Republic.  We’re about to welcome (and spend tax-payer money on) a visit from King Charles III and Queen Camilla, who’ve just had £45M of public money added to their annual income while the rest of the UK suffers a crippling cost of living crisis.”

Her play is not just fascinating to watch, each twist and turn of the relationship between the Duchess and the Nanny from Marion’s surprising interview showing how and why she got the job through to the Queen Mother’s disgust at the book’s publication – and most awful, to the new Queen’s putdown of the woman who made her what she was.

It’s a play that needs to be seen throughout Australia ready for next year’s election, probably in May.  You need to understand Marion Crawford’s story before you vote.

Maybe the Albanese Government could fund Touring Australia with some extra special funds.  I suggest you write to your local Federal Member of Parliament, now.

Good on you, Ensemble Theatre, for this new Australian play – surely in the tradition that Hayes Gordon would rise again from his grave to see.



©Frank McKone, Canberra

Saturday, 28 September 2024

2024: Colder Than Here by Laura Wade

 

 

Colder Than Here by Laura Wade.  Ensemble Theatre, Sydney September 16 – October 12 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
September 28

Playwright: Laura Wade (UK)
Director: Janine Watson
Set Designer: Michael Hankin; Costume Designer: Genevieve Graham
Lighting Designer: Morgan Moroney; Video Designer: Mark Bolotin
Composer & Sound Designer: Jessica Dunn
Dialect Coach: Linda Nicholls-Gidley; Movement Coach: Tim Dashwwod
Intimacy Coordinator: Chloë Dallimore; Costume Supervisor: Lily Matelian
Asst Stage Manager: Bernadett Lörincz

Cast:
Myra – Hannah Waterman; Alec – Huw Higginson
Their adult daughters Jenna – Airlie Dodds and Harriet – Charlotte Friels

Airlie Dodds, Huw Higginson, Hannah Waterman, Charlotte Friels
as Jenna, Alec, Myra and Harriet
in Colder Than Here by Laura Wade, Ensemble Theatre 2024

This is Ensemble’s summary of Colder Than Here:

Myra’s typically middle-class family are scarily normal in their eccentricities, especially when it comes to dealing with her illness. The boiler is on the blink, the cat’s gone missing and the perfect funeral needs planning but her husband Alec would rather bury his head in a newspaper while daughters Harriet and Jenna have their own problems. Myra might be busy researching flatpack coffins and creating a PowerPoint presentation of her dying wishes, but her last big project is to fix her family.

In my early years I was brought up in this London, wearing Wellington boots to walk to school, perennially cold in the smog.  So I could sympathise with the idea of a play about a woman, diagnosed with terminal cancer, and her family trying to find somewhere nicer for her to die and to be buried.

In 2005, at least the titles of Laura Wade’s first plays – Colder Than Here and Breathing Corpses – suggest things were getting her down a bit, even though they won the writer the [UK] Critics' Circle Theatre Award for Most Promising Playwright.

So I’m sorry to have to say that I felt for the actors, having to struggle with a script which can’t really make up its mind whether to be a comedy or a sentimental but nice homily about being realistic about death.  

As a comedy it begins well with Myra’s attempt at a Powerpoint presentation of how she wants to prepare for the inevitable.  But the boiler on the blink business (by the way, the extension lead plug that Alec tries to fix is a sealed unit which cannot be taken apart, so his jabbing himself with his screwdriver is just silly) and what happened to Jenna’s cat, and whether Jenna’s relationships with her boyfriends have or will hold up, and why Harriet seems to be so inexplicably dependent on her mother, get in the way of comedy.

Yet the possibilities of drama of depth never develop either in this playscript.

Fortunately it is the set design and video projection that rescue the play as far as it can go.  As the daughters look for locations for the burial, the backdrop image of a calm and attractive woodland scene (well away from whether the boiler in the house really did ever get fixed) made it almost acceptable for Myra to lie down on her side there and slowly roll on to her back as she dies (having lasted till a warmer time in summer) – because (as we know from the earler scene with the cardboard coffin) she wouldn’t fit in if she stayed the way she sleeps.

Yet that final scene is quite unrealistic.  From what Myra tells Jenna, husband Alec is now busy fixing things around the house himself – so he’s not there with her.  What Harriet is doing is not clear – but she’s not there either.  And then, Jenna leaves her mother to it – to die alone.

Perhaps the author meant this to have sad and telling implications about people not facing up to death, but I found after the beginning warmth of a little bit of comedy, the rest of the play – except for the very last moment – left me cold.

Hannah Waterman as Myra
in the final scene of Colder Than Here by Laura Wade
Ensemble Theatre, 2024

©Frank McKone, Canberra

Thursday, 26 September 2024

2024: ARC by Erth

 

 

ARC by Erth.  Canberra Theatre Centre, Playhouse, 26–28 September 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
September 26


Credits (as recorded by Arts on Tour)

Artistic Director  Scott Wright
Head of Design  Steve Howarth
Producer  Scott Andrew
Writer  Alana Valentine
Creative AssociatePuppet Design  Gabrielle Paananen
Associate Director  Solomon Thomas
Composer/Sound Designer  James Brown
Composer/Sound Designer  Daniel Herten
Lighting Designer  Frankie Clarke
Video Designer  Solomon Thomas
Cast  Scott Wright, Gabrielle Paananen, Rose Maher, Albert David, Tom Caley (subject to change)
Production Manager  Rick Everett


 No printed program was available at Canberra Theatre Centre, so I have assumed the company here is the same.

Erth describes the show in this way:
“ARC is a scalable and site-specific participatory theatre work designed around a menagerie of naturalistic critically endangered and extinct animals. Giving the audience small moments of highly intimate, transformational engagement with fragile, vulnerable life, the work will be led by children, who will enable the transition of wonder and preciousness onto participants.
 
“This is at a time when we are hearing stronger and younger voices speaking up on matters that affect their world. The work is a confrontation with the reality of species extinction, and at the same time, a provocation of hope. These guides are messengers, reminding us of the resilience of nature, our power as individuals to both protect and preserve, and the inherent hope and creative genius of children, who are our future.”
 
Though I can find no explanation by Erth for the meaning of the title ARC (which has many possible meanings), Scott Wright has written:
“The genesis of arc came about from a creative visioning residency with Healesville Sanctuary in 2016 supported by Zoos Victoria. During my visit I was lucky enough to be taken to where they were breeding Leadbeater’s Possums to increase their number, at a time when their population had been reduced to one small colony of around 30 individuals - the only Leadbeater’s Possums remaining in the world.

“A small furry bundle was placed in my hands, and like lightning it struck me: this moment was charged with empathy and awe. Right then I knew that if everybody could experience this delicate action of holding one of these beautiful creatures in their hands, an intangible connection between two species would be made and their continued protection would continue. Not from guilt from the wrongs we have done, but from love and compassion.”

The show consists of Scott musing out loud, apparently as himself rather than in a recognisably acted role, while the life-size puppets come to life in his loungeroom.  I missed how a quite large number of children appeared on stage to participate, which they did with obvious enthusiasm.

This is not theatre which you watch and react to in the ordinary way.  It is an experience, the impact of which grows upon you.  By the end it is impossible to imagine taking an unemotional rational view of the issue of ‘saving the animals’.  The warmth and depth of feeling as Scott winds up with thanks, encouragement and congratulations all round is now an expression of belief in saving the animals.

But from a theatre critic’s point of view I can see the danger of this kind of presentation.  It is nearer to a ceremony of religious faith than a drama revealing social understanding.  Is ARC, then, good children’s education; or is it – however justified – a form of indoctrination?

Though, in a general sense, I personally support the preservation of native species in their original ecological environments, examples – such as Canberra people refusing to accept the need to cull the local kangaroo population; or the people who believe the wild horses should be left to destroy the Kosciuszko national park environment – suggest to me that even children’s education through drama about preserving species can’t depend entirely on unadulterated love and compassion.

I am not seriously suggesting that ARC is a dangerous exercise.  Our fears about global warming are entirely justified.  But I am suggesting that Erth may need to create new works for children in which they learn the limits of belief and the value of action using science to understand Earth’s past and hopefully improve our likely future.

 

 

ARC by Erth, 2024

©Frank McKone, Canberra

Wednesday, 25 September 2024

2024: The Critic - Movie 2024

 

 

The Critic – Movie 2024.  A reimagining of the novel ‘Curtain Call’ by Anthony Quinn (Penguin 2015) set in the 1930s - described in Bookseller as “An elegant literary 1930s murder mystery”.


Sun 29 Sep  Wed 2 Oct  Thu 3 Oct
Dendy Canberra
10:45 am    2:00 pm    7:00 pm

Limelight Cinemas Tuggeranong
12:10 pm

Palace Electric Cinema
2:00 pm    6:00 pm

Director: Anand Tucker
Screenwriter: Patrick Marber
Production Company: BKStudios


Cast

    Ian McKellen as Jimmy Erskine             Gemma Arterton as Nina Land
    Mark Strong as David Brooke                 Lesley Manville as Annabel
    Ben Barnes as Stephen Wyley                 Romola Garai as Madeleine
    Alfred Enoch as Tom Tunner                  Matthew Cottle as Graham Meadows
    Beau Gadsdon as Freya                           Nikesh Patel as Ferdy Harwood
    Rebecca Gethings as Joan                       Éva Magyar as Dolly Langdon
    Jay Simpson as Slyfield                          Jacob James Beswick as Robbie
    Nicholas Bishop as Richard Pugh          Albie Marber as Lennie
    Grant Crookes as Critic                          Debra Gillett as Mrs. Keefe

Reviewed by Frank McKone

“VLADIMIR: Moron!
ESTRAGON: Vermin!
VLADIMIR: Abortion!
ESTRAGON: Morpion!
VLADIMIR: Sewer-rat!
ESTRAGON: Curate!
VLADIMIR: Cretin!
ESTRAGON: (with finality). Crritic!
VLADIMIR: Oh!
He wilts, vanquished, and turns away.”
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

“London, 1934. Jimmy Erskine (McKellen) is the most feared theatre critic of the age. He lives as flamboyantly as he writes and takes pleasure in savagely taking down any actor who fails to meet his standards. When the owner of the Daily Chronicle newspaper dies, and his son David Brooke (Strong) takes over, Jimmy quickly finds himself at odds with his new boss and his position under threat. In an attempt to preserve the power and influence he holds so sacred, Jimmy strikes a faustian pact with struggling actress Nina Land (Arterton), entangling them and Brooke in a thrilling but deadly web of desire, blackmail and betrayal.”
[ The Critic – Official Trailer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jryTK4UZ-6E ]

As critic of The Critic, I will not start by“putting the dagger in” like ‘Jimmy Erskine’ does as a fearsome attention grabber, condemning West End actor ‘Nina Land’ unreasonably.  His real purpose is nothing more than maintaining his image – and therefore his job.

But, like Jimmy, I like to display my erudition with literary quotes.  Estragon’s “Crritic!” is amusing – but in this case it’s also telling.  In the film it is Nina who “wilts, vanquished, and turns away” at first – until her anger makes her turn upon Jimmy and demand an apology, in the street: in public.

A strong beginning for a film with lots of possibilities but not much in the way of probability – a bit like waiting for Godot.  I have not read Anthony Quinn’s novel, which is described as “utterly pleasing from the first page to the last” by Sadie Jones, (Guardian).  The essential problem in this movie is that the screenwriting is contrived, as if the characters’ actions, talk and reactions are predetermined to get Jimmy Erskine from his over-the-top, aggressive, unkind copy for the Daily Chronicle review of the performance of ‘The White Devil’ (the tragedy in five acts by John Webster, performed and published in 1612) through the ‘deadly web’ to his unlikely, unfortunate and unpleasant survival.

On the way he reviews fairly, Nina’s excellent acting as Olivia in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night – but only for his central self-centred purposes.

The film then seems to be too stagey, as if it is all being acted out as if it were on stage, and so never achieves the true illusion of reality which is what film can do, but acting a play cannot.

At the same time it is fair to say that the actors in this film are as excellent as we might expect. But the writing and directing leave us with unfulfilled possibilities.  

For example, the song and scene At Midnight in the 1936 setting where the gay Jimmy and his ‘secretary’ Tom are set upon by Nazi characters was never developed as it could have been – especially when we see these groups in action in real life today.  The role of 1930s police also should have been much more fully developed, raising issues about the law and the treatment of gays and women.

And most disappointing, I thought, was the shallow characterisation of Nina, as if women actors were so easily manipulated by their needing to be praised.  Of course the issue was and is real, but the screenplay needed to offer other possibilities for the women.  In real life I think of how much Helene Weigel achieved in acting in the 1930s – and probably in writing – in Brecht’s plays, and in becoming artistic director of the Berliner Ensemble in the 1940s.  There is no women’s part in The Critic modeled on such a woman.

From a different perspective, you might see the movie as a fun variation of an Agatha Christie, but though there is a murder, there’s not the same engagement in mystery.  We may wonder about Jimmy Erskine’s intentions early on, but then we see it all happening until we are not surprised, as Jimmy is not surprised, at Nina’s death.  He is essentially cynical about what he does to engineer others’ actions.

This at least opens up our thinking about the nature of an unkind society.  So I lay aside my dagger at this point.

Ian McKellen and Gemma Arterton
as Jimmy Erskine and Nina Land
in The Critic 2024

©Frank McKone, Canberra

Thursday, 19 September 2024

2024: The Cut by Mark Ravenhill

 


 
 The Cut by Mark Ravenhill.  Presented by The Seeing Place and Lexi Sekuless Productions at The Mill Theatre, Dairy Road, Canberra, September 12 – 21, 2024.

Reviewed by Frank McKone
September 19

Co-Producer – Lexi Sekuless; Produced by The Seeing Place
Director – Sammy Moynihan
Sound Designer and Operator – Marlene Radice
Lighting Designer – Jen Wright
Photos by Andrew Sikorsky

Cast
Paul – Ali Clinch
John / Meena – Diana Caban Velez
Stephen / Geeta – Maxine Beaumont
Susan – Hanna Tonks


The Cut is not an entertainment.  It is deeply depressing.  Yet the directing, sound design and acting create a work of significant theatre art.

We see a woman called Paul in three scenes:
 
At work as the administrator and operative of the government office of the legislated Cut program, interviewing a prospective young woman who insists on being cut:

 At home after work with their wife:

 Meeting up with their daughter Stephen on their return from university studies: 

In each situation another woman appears in a servile role, often breaking glassware which we hear in the background.

Sexuality and sexual roles are fluid.  Metaphorical implications abound, from female genital mutilation to glass ceilings; husbands’ coercive control to domestic violence; parents’ ‘ownership’ of children to their failure to accept their child’s adult independence.

It’s never a pretty picture in its 90 minutes of interactional talk and intense emotional reactions, without interval.  Be prepared for mystification gradually resolving into an awful sense of despair about the future of humankind.

It’s almost weird, then, to read the Wikipedia story of theatrical success of British playwright Mark Ravenhill, “one of the most widely performed playwrights in British theatre of the late-twentieth and twenty-first centuries.”  The Cut appeared in 2006, midway in his career, working “as a freelance director, workshop leader and drama teacher” in the 1980s through to when “In September 2023, the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama announced that Ravenhill would be joining their teaching staff as a Visiting Lecturer and co-tutor, focusing his time on the Writing for Performance BA degree.” [ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Ravenhill ]

Maybe it means that theatre is more real than the real life it presents for us to be depressed by.

This is where the success of Lexi Sekuless Productions makes its entrance.  To quote: “The Cut is presented as part of the Mill Theatre co-production series, a program which provides an avenue for creatives to present their own work in the Mill Theatre space.  There have been 2 co-productions so far but, excitingly, The Cut is the biggest of its kind to date at the Mill and The Seeing Place have created a model which we can roll out for all ACT creatives to enjoy.”

The Mill reminds me of my visit, fortunately long before Covid, to see Ionesco’s La leçon at Théâtre de la Huchette, the tiny 85 seat theatre set up in Paris in 1948 largely, I believe, in response to the horrors of World War II and the end of the occupation.  

“As of February 2017 the two plays, Ionesco's The Bald Soprano (La Cantatrice chauve) followed directly by The Lesson, have been performed more than 18,000 times at the theater, holding the record for longest running show without interruption at a single theater.

In 1975 the owner, Marcel Pinard, suffered a fatal heart attack in the theater's box office. Following his death the actors who had played the Ionesco double bill since 1957 battled to prevent the closure of the theater, eventually forming their own theater company to continue production.”  
[ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Th%C3%A9%C3%A2tre_de_la_Huchette ]

I trust Lexi may not have such a dire experience, but hope the Mill Theatre may have an equally long history.  The quality of The Seeing Place production of The Cut certainly matched my experience in Paris, and looks forward to providing Canberra with such necessary, even though disturbing theatre, far into the future.

©Frank McKone, Canberra