HIS GIRL FRIDAY, MTC, Aug 18, 2012 **1/2

Venue and Dates:   Arts Centre Melbourne, Playhouse - 11 August to 15 September 2012

Reviewer:   Joe Calleri
Stars:   2.5
 

Something just didn’t gel for me with this production of John Guare’s, His Girl Friday. At the risk of mixing metaphors, watching this production is akin to eating a huge degustation meal. The production looks impressive enough with its
abundant proliferation of nicely costumed, competent actors (headed by Phillip Quast and Pamela Rabe) occupying a nice looking naturalistic stage. But, ultimately one or more key ingredients – including sufficient laughs - are missing. Therefore, the entire meal, or in this case, production, is unsatisfying.

 Phillip Quast and Pamela Rabe

His Girl Friday’s plot is straightforward; on the day of the hanging execution of notorious murderer Holub, David Woods), a gaggle of card-playing, world-weary journalists unite at the prison’s media room to report on the story, complete with gory details. Their room is full of the sound of tap-tapping, old-fashioned typewriters and the ringing of archaic telephones.

Quast, as the manipulative but loveable rogue, newspaperman Walter Burns, is not only the production’s stand-out performer, but also its saviour from being a complete disaster. Burns is searching for his star reporter, the feisty, divorcee, Hildy Johnson (Rabe) to report on the execution. But, to Burns’s disgust and dismay, Hildy has other plans for her life, including marriage. While female writers and reporters are neither exceptional nor unusual in 2012, the opposite was the case in the late 1930’s, when His Girl Friday is set.

What unfolds over the next two hours and forty minutes, is essentially a tale of corruption. The Mayor is corrupt, as is the prison system, and surprise, surprise, so is the press corps, who will go to any lengths to get their scoop. Sound familiar?

Director Aidan Fennessy’s stodgy, earnest direction of this production, must take at least some of the blame for its failure to deliver the goods as a proper, laugh out loud, slapstick comedy.

Frankly, while this production makes for relatively entertaining Saturday afternoon fare, sadly, nothing renders it either special or memorable. 

By Joe Calleri

Rhonda Burchmore - Cry Me A River – The World of Julie London ***1/2

Venue and Dates:  Comedy Theatre - Thursday 16 to Sunday 19 August, 2012.
Reviewer:  Joe Calleri
Stars:    3.5

Only in America could a young, unknown, elevator attendant by the rather non-descript name of Gayle Peck, be discovered by the talent agent wife of actor, Alan Ladd, and be transformed into multi-talented singer and actress, Julie London. This reviewer remembers London in her role as Nurse Dixie McCall in the 70’s adventure series, Emergency.

The impossibly tall, smoky-voiced, Rhonda Burchmore, admits at one point during in this well-constructed, and highly entertaining journey through London’s highly eventful life, loves, significant world events and some of the finest jazz and blues music ever written, that she is 9 inches taller than London. That distinction is of little consequence.

There is much to like in this production, from the simple, elegant staging, to Burchmore’s gorgeous, split to the thigh, glittery outfits, to the kick-ass jazz band that accompanies Burchmore during her mesmerising performances of classic tunes written by some of America’s legendary writers (Cole Porter, George and Ira Gershwin) including Cry Me a River (the stand-out tune), Let There Be Love, ‘S Wonderful, You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To, and The Party's Over.

Issues with this production are relatively minor. Some gags (especially the unfortunate reference to Schapelle Corby) are unnecessary and lower the overall tone of the show, Rhonda fluffs some of her lines, and the show is perhaps a few songs too long. But, those wonderfully enduring, toe-tapping tunes and Burchmore’s sultry, stagecraft more than compensate.

Lovers of fine jazz and blues music should run and catch this show before it ends its very short season on Sunday 19 August.

Joe Calleri

On the Misconception of Oedipus, Aug 17, 2012 ***

Venue and Dates:  Beckett Theatre, Malthouse, August 10 to August 26, 2012
Reviewer:  Joe Calleri
Stars:  3

SOPHOCLES' WELL-KNOWN, 5^th century BC Greek legendary tale of obsession, prophecy, and forbidden incestuous relationship, emerges into the 21^st century thanks to the imaginings of Zoë Atkinson, Matthew Lutton and Tom Wright, who also wrote the text.

This is a rather brave – but ultimately unsuccessful - attempt to “fill in the blanks” in the tale, and specifically, the events that led to the murder of King Lauis by his son, Oedipus, who then marries his mother, Queen Jocasta.

On a stage that resembles a living room undergoing renovation, an eight-track tape recorder sits on a small table silently recording contemporarily garbed actors Natasha Herbert (Jocasta), Richard Pyros (Oedipus), and Daniel Schlusser (Laius).

They speak into floor floor-mounted microphones as they each address the audience as if undergoing a police interrogation. In turn, they reveal their insecurities, obsessions, and dark fears.

Tom Wright’s writing is initially powerful, and magnetically engaging, but then becomes too clever for its own good, serving to repel rather than maintain interest.

This production jumps the shark at around the 45-minute mark, specifically after King Laius is murdered by his son, Oedipus, in a particularly graphic and brutal manner.

The production should ideally, have ended here, but it lurches for a further 15 tedious minutes, while Oedipus and Jocasta first consummate their forbidden relationship (be warned of the on-stage male nudity) and then amble off into a droll, sozzled, domestic banality.

This well-acted, high concept production which pre-supposes that audiences have a firm grasp of the famous tale it deconstructs, ultimately fails to win over its audience because of its overt cleverness, and rambling, unsatisfying conclusion. 

By Joe Calleri

Lipsynch, Aug 4, 2012, by Ex Machina (Canada) & Théâtre Sans Frontières (UK)

By Ex Machina (Canada) & Théâtre Sans Frontières (UK)

State Theatre, Melbourne,  Aug 4 to 12, 2012

Reviewer: Joe Calleri on Aug 4, 2012

Prepare to be moved and mesmerised by Robert Lepage’s epic, 9-hour, trans-continental, multi-lingual theatrical journey, Lipsynch. Yes, you read that right - 9-hours! It’s amazing to consider that, Australian Ironman triathlete, Craig Alexander, recently completed a full Ironman event in less time than it took to sit through this brilliant theatrical event. And, I’m so glad I stayed the distance!

A sprawling Canadian and British co-production, alternatively spoken in English, French, Spanish, and German and broken up by five intervals, Lipsynch’s 9 human stories / melodramas (some of which are inter-related) explore our seemingly ever-increasing desperate need for recognition, self-expression and connection from various angles.

Speaking of the need for self-expression, I understand that, this production was conceived about 6 years ago, which probably explains the rather interesting omission of references to Twitter and Facebook and other forms of all-pervasive electronic social media all of which have, sadly, altered forever the manner in which we communicate with one another. So insidiously pervasive in fact, that, for the first time in Olympics history, we are witnessing the sad spectacle of world-class athletes blaming their addiction to social media for their poor athletic performances.

Lipsynch explores some disturbingly familiar and universal themes: the fragility and impermanence of human relationships (including mother and son, husband and wife, brother and sister), and the sickening exploitation of those who are the most vulnerable in our society, including the mentally ill, women, and the poor and disenfranchised.

There are three essential lynchpins to the 9 stories – Ada (Rebecca Blankenship), the kind, generous and loving opera singer; Lupe (Nuria Garcia), a young 15-year old prostitute who is sold to a German pimp by her evil uncle; and Jeremy (Rick Miller), Lupe’s son, adopted by Ada after Lupe’s tragic death aboard an airplane during the dramatic opening story. And, much like the recently screened TV soap, Revenge, once you have seen the first two or three of the nine stories, you will find yourself hooked in and wanting more, including the identity of Jeremy’s father. The answer to that latter puzzle will leave you feeling unclean and unsettled.

Lipsynch features some of the most intelligent and versatile set design (Jean Hazel) you are ever likely to see outside of a Transformers movie. With the aid of a highly skilled, efficient, and visible backstage production team, sets miraculously and effortlessly morph from airplane cabins, to London underground trains, to radio studios, to book stores, to film sets, to Nicaraguan cantinas, to brothels.

Could this production have been told in under 9 hours? Probably. Some of the stories (Michelle’s, for example, and the lengthy movie making sequence) are not as compelling and as satisfying as others (the opening and closing stories are, for me, the pick of the bunch), and one senses that, just like the favourite rationale for climbing Mount Everest, Lepage and his producers included all of the stories because they were there and because they could.

Ultimately, however, you should not let the marathon running time deter you from seeing this truly affecting, memorable and once-in-a-lifetime theatrical odyssey.

By Joe Calleri