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MELBOURNE FRINGE 2008: THE REVIEWS

- An Actor Prepares
- Eric
- Circus Trick Tease
- The Landlords
- Make Deadshits History
- Beaconsfield: The Musical
- Sammy J In The Forest Of Dreams
- La Chocolat
- Give My Regards To Broady
- Blinkers
- Set List
- Two Little Spiels: A Double Bill
- Master Of Disguise
- 10 Steps To Deportation
- Melborn 08: Playspotting
- Aristophanes' Lysistrata
- The Last Bucket Of Water
- Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens In Toowoomba. (Ever)
- In The Arms Of A Lion
- Sondheim Unscripted
- Night Of The Devil Zombies
- Zoetrope
- The List Operators
- Just Can't Get Enough
- The Undressing Room
- Andrew McClelland's Somewhat Accurate History Of Pirates
- Burnt
- Mysteries Of The Convent 08
- Stephen K Amos Gets Next To You


Bookings for all Fringe shows: (03) 9660 9666 or www.melbournefringe.com.au



An Actor Prepares

By Josephine Giles. Butterfly Club, season closed.

An Actor Prepares
is a short and intense discourse on a depressing but important dilemma – is only response to our anger at violence eventually violence itself?

In exploring this question, writer/actor James Adler and composer/performer Nela Trifkovic invite the audience into a small space where history and the present collide. The rage and despair of the artist unfolds, as through story, play and song, we chart the final moments of a suicide bomber

I saw the show on its final performance at the tiny Butterfly Club on a very hot Melbourne afternoon. The air-conditioning was on (thank goodness!), but this did set up a background noise that I don’t think had been taken into account by the artists. A good deal of the very wordy script was delivered in a naturalistic and very quiet voice, a device which I would probably normally appreciate. But on this occasion, too much of the text was lost – I wanted to call “speak up!” as my ears gave up trying to catch the murmurs of the actor.

I suspect too that the Adler and Trifkovic were suffering from over familiarity with their text, forgetting that the audience was hearing these words for the first time. Even when the text was audible, the pace was often just a bit too fast for me to keep up.

Text problems aside, An Actor Prepares uses other theatrical devices to good effect, in particular the use pieces of a trombone as props. This carries through the idea of the words in the opening song “pieces of self”, as does the dismantling of a trumpet in the final scene.

Actor Adler takes centre stage in An Actor Prepares, but it is composer and fellow-performer Trifkovic who surprises, captivates and intrigues. Her evocative compositions are one thing, however it is her singing, unaffected and soulful that communicates directly with the audience – I hope she continues performing in this way!


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Eric

By Anne-Marie Peard. Dancing Dog Cade, season closed.

Eric is one of those Fringe shows that was over before people began to hear about it.

With  content as diverse as reality TV pitches (Are you sexier than a fifth grader?), a speed dater who brings his own seamen sample, and a Bond villain despairing that his mignons dipped his echidnas in poison, Eric is sure to tickle most funny bones – whilst finding some unexpected new ticklish spots.

Eric
is an experiment in form that started when Scott Gooding wanted to do a character comedy, but couldn’t come up with a solid idea for one character. Fortunately, he forged ahead by asking his favourite playwrights to contribute scenes, and the one person sketch show emerged.

Fortunately, he also called upon the directing talent of Scott Brennan. Best known for his work on television sketch shows, Brennan combines the tightness of TV sketch with the freedom, spontaneity and intimacy of theatre. With some clever structuring and measured pacing, he reigns in Gooding’s excessive tendencies and knows when to let him loose.

Gooding’s comfortable physicality and genuine likability makes for a thoroughly enjoyable evening, and his performance demonstrates a mightily impressive comic range. All of his characters are unique, authentic and recognisable, and at times, it was easy to forget that there was only one person performing. His uncanny channelling of a blow up doll is almost haunting, and no one who sees Eric will ever be able to book a brothel appointment without picturing him in a blonde wig.

With ten different playwrights (including Adam J A Cass, Robert Reid and Ben McKenzie), the comedy includes physical, joke, character, commentary, word play and a sobering dash of absurdist black. The Scotts successfully maintain and balance the different voices, without ever letting the differing styles and forms distract from the overall experience.

The Dancing Dog Café in Footscray is a terrific space for a show, but it meant that Eric missed the spontaneous ticket purchases at the Fringe hub or a better known venue. Hopefully Eric will return, because he deserves to be widely seen and welcome some adoring mignons of his own.



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Circus Trick Tease

By Anne-Marie Peard. Fringe Hub, season closed.

Circus Trick Tease bring circus to theatre and theatre to circus in their fresh, original and joyously naughty Fringe debut.

Miss Tinkle (Malia Walsh), the fickle and neurotic superstar; Mr Plonk (
Shannon McGurgan), the self-proclaimed sensitive new age strong man, with 70s porn star tendencies; and Ghazanfar (Farhad Ahadi), who is from overseas, are the Circus Trick Tease trio.

Their performance is a terrific combination of character clowning and super-slick circus trick. This alone is worth the price of a ticket, but the ongoing story of their raunchy offstage relationships takes this show to an irresistible level.

Their humour balances slapstick with a wet-fish slap of irony, and is almost as seamless as their jaw-dropping acrobalance. They compete for attention, compete with each other and play with the fact that acrobats really do have to see each other from extremely intimate and revealing angles. Highlights include Ghazanfar’s quaint balloon animal and juggling performance, accompanied by the shadows of Tinkle and Plonk’s backstage antics, and the final ménage-a-tois inspired swing number.

It was a joy to discover such a highly polished and hilarious act. I can’t wait to see their next show.



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The Landlords

By Laura Hamilton. St Martins Theatre, season closed.

Obsessive list-keeper JC, aka Jesus Christ (Sam Burns-Warr) and bath-sleeping Archie aka Archimedes (Jordan Prosser) happened to stay at the same hotel one night. The following morning, both seemingly “slept in and missed the apocalypse”.

Such is the premise of this intriguingly strange play, The Landlords.

As a consequence of this supposed apocalypse, these two men have been stuck together in the hotel lobby for years, too scared to open the hotel doors because of what might be out there - whatever it is  has killed human kind as they know it. The only survivors apart from JC and Archie are Channel 2 news presenter Michael Fisher and his cameraman.

Most of this play is an endless, repetitive conversation between JC and Archie – a window on what their mind-numbingly limited existence has become. It has a touch of the X Files about it, and develops as a type of psychiatric thriller as we become entwined in the plot. Its vibe is somewhat bizarre but the ending was fantastic - well worth waiting for.

Burns-Warr and Prosser are triple threats of a different kind – they can both write, direct and act as is proven with this latest production. Their talents are doubly strengthened with the support of a large and talented production team, the most outstand being production designer Nicole Symington. The Landlords is worth seeing just for the incredible set let alone everything else!



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Make Deadshits History

By Rowena Scanlon. Festival Hub, season closed.

Make Deadshits History is the sort of show that divides an audience into those that love it and those that are deeply offended and want to leave in the theatre within the first five minutes. At least that is what I was expecting from the stand up show delivered by Heath Franklin as the infamous Chopper Reid.

In fact, from the audience reaction, it seems that most people were having a good time. It may not be the best fringe show to take your granny to, but neither is it overly distasteful or nasty. After the first few minutes you begin to forget the Gordon Ramsay style delivery, where swearing is used as an adjective, and settle in for a surprisingly traditional, and frequently funny, observational stand-up routine.

Using Chopper as an alter ego offers Franklin the licence to tackle the politically incorrect and to take on an outrageous point of view. This could have been achieved with an original character of Franklin’s invention, but here Chopper is used as a touchstone of familiarity, an entry point that lets people know what to expect –a comic mix of humour with violence delivered by this affable ocker thug. And as Chopper an obnoxious heckler is cut down in character without missing a beat was a real highlight of the evening.

The show, however, feels padded in places. The pre-recorded video footage is slick and clever, but participation by nervous audience members is greatly overused. I did wonder as the third unlucky stooge struggled to think of an amusing anecdote, how often Franklin actually uncovers a gem, or gets a laugh, at this point in his set. There is embarrassed laughter and a feeling of apprehension in the first three rows, yet I would have liked more from the man I came to see and less of the ‘deadshits’ in the front row.



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Beaconsfield: The Musical

By Laura Hamilton. The Butterfly Club, Until October 12.

For a little show in a little venue, Beaconsfield: The Musical was big.

Regardless of whether you paid attention to all the hoo-hah over the past 48 hours, it was clear what sort of show it was going to be as we took our seats to the sounds of Ben Folds’ famous song “We Could Be Happy Underground”.

I really don’t see what all the fuss was about. It is essentially a show about the media circus that developed in the days following the mine collapse. There are some fantastic scenes of executives from all five TV channels (including, of course, Eddie “Everywhere” McGuire) brainstorming ways to take advantage of the accident, referring to the Beaconsfield disaster as “a ratings goldmine”.

No one escapes a parody, with appearances by Naomi Robson, David “Kochie” Koch, Richard Carleton, and my favourite, the ever too enthusiastic sometime weatherman Tim Bailey. The high-flying corporate world and federal politics also get a bashing for the way they dealt with the incident – particular attention is given to Bill Shorten, brilliantly portrayed by Toby Truslove.

All scenes with Brant Webb and Todd Russell trapped in complete darkness are treated with respect (albeit also with tasteful humour), and Larry Knight (or his death) isn’t mentioned once. The only part I felt was vaguely inappropriate was Richard Carleton’s scene – regardless of what reputation he had amongst media circles the song they sing about him seconds before he collapses and dies is somewhat cruel.

As good as the performance is, I couldn’t ignore the fact that there was a script used on stage and referred to throughout. So it goes without saying the show is under-rehearsed. With a longer run, more polishing and a bigger venue it could do quite well.  

Fatigued creator Dan Ilic cleverly included countless references to the recent controversy throughout the show, including an acknowledgement of the title change to Beaconsfield: The Musical (In No Particular Key). It’s true that you’ll need a certain sense of humour to enjoy this show, but you know who you are.



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Sammy J In The Forest Of Dreams

By Anne-Marie Peard. Festival Hub, Until October 11.

Is it wrong to have a crush on a squirrel? Terry’s a lovely squirrel. He’s fuzzy, soft, has a great sense of humour, is easily manipulated, and appears in Sammy J in the Forest of Dreams.

If you have heard that Sammy J In The Forest Of Dreams is the must-see show of the Fringe - trust what you’ve heard.

Its ephemeral images delicately explore the role of fairy tales and childhood dreams in our contemporary existence...NOT! It’s an arse-raping, puppet-snogging, fisting-king hoot, that’ll have you snorting with laughter.

Local comedian Sammy J and puppeteer Heath McIvor made this show from the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. All jokes aside, it demonstrates a solid knowledge of genre, incorporates original, authentic characters and is tied together with a well-told, complex and interesting story.

And it is funny. Very, very, very funny. Just don’t let the puppets fool you into thinking it’s a kid’s show. The opening “Fuck You Disney” song sets the tone – and it’s all down hill from there.

The Fringe season is sold out. So, sucked in if you missed out!

GOOD NEWS
The season is now extended.
October 16 to November 9 at the Lithuanian Club. Book at www.easytix.com.au.

PS: If you want to see a terrific interview with Terry the Squirrel, Fringe reviewer John Richards had a chat with him.


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La Chocolat

By Josephine Giles. Trades Hall, Until October 11.

 “Let’s put on a cabaret… What about...Oh, I don’t know, what about chocolate?”  Well, why not? As many cabarets are simply an excuse to string together some of your favourite songs, having an excuse to consume your favourite foodstuff throughout can only be a bonus.

Presented by a group of Adelaide trained and based artists, La Chocolat falls into that common category found at fringes of the moderately entertaining but under-baked work by enthusiastic emerging artists.

A promising idea, exploring the power of chocolate in women’s lives, starts off well with a well executed Tim Tam Tango, and a powerful song about body image and self loathing. Some witty dialogue about love, loss and binging on chocolate leads us into further songs where lines can be changed to include things like “She works hard for her chocolate” or “I ate chocolate because of you”.

All very nice…for a while, as by mid-show the idea has run its course, and the weakness of the performers starts to show. The two very likeable stars, Carla Conlin (as Juliet) and Diana Scalzi (as Vivienne), have both trained extensively in dance, and this is shown to good effect in the sharp choreography and precision staging. However, neither has the vocal prowess to successfully carry off such a variety songs – if they see their future in this genre or in music theatre, some serious vocal training is called for.

Still, there was some serious music talent on stage in the form of the backing group the Kit Kat Band. Musical Director and bassist Paul Doherty led a quartet of very classy musicians through sophisticated arrangements in a variety of styles.

There is an obligatory audience participation spot (relax girls, it’s only for men) and yes, there is a chocolate reward if you stay to the end!

La Chocolat
has promise, but at this stage is more Cadbury Dairy Milk than Lindt 85% Cocoa. It’s a matter of taste I suppose.



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Give My Regards To Broady

By Laura Hamilton. Trades Hall, Until October 12.

The underlying premise of Give My Regards To Broady is promising. I really, really wanted to like this locally produced, Melbourne-focused show. But by the end, the best part of the whole thing was its title.

An under-cooked musical about poverty-stricken musical theatre graduates hanging around their north-suburban share house waiting for work, the young creator has written a piece based directly on, what I’m assuming is, her own life. Sometimes this can work – it’s said that people write best about what they know - but this is not the case here.

A few shining moments did appear in several of the better songs, includingNorth/South Bank and Lock Up Your Babies Tonight”. There’s a certain enjoyment in being able to identify with the localised subject of these songs, such as the public transport system, parents who lock their kids in the car park at Crown Casino, and the merits of Melbourne’s varied and colourful suburbs.

But the script had no real structure or meaningful narrative, and it was disappointing to see all four performers smiling at their own jokes before the audience did. Inappropriate costuming provided a few awkward moments interspersed with random, unfunny private cast jokes the audience are never going to understand. The show’s final song, about AFL football (with a few utterly random mentions of the religion Scientology), had absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the script and was badly tacked onto the end as if it was an afterthought seeking a few bonus laughs.



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Blinkers

By Laura Hamilton. North Melbourne Town Hall, Until October 11.

Blinkers
charts the well-known territory of loneliness in one of the most unusual love stories I think I’ve ever seen.

Monty (Dan Musgrove) is an equine obsessed clean-freak with way too much time on his hands whose flatmate is a porcelain mare named Chester. In the apartment above him lives unkempt rock chick Amy (Natalie Medlock), a social outcast who spends most of her time drunk or stoned and refusing to talk to anyone but herself. Both are incredibly eccentric, lonely people and the fun in this show is watching them discover, and then accept each other’s existence.

There are so many fantastic ‘awkward’ silences in Blinkers; because both characters aren’t big on conversation, much of the script focuses on what happens in between and around the dialogue rather than what is actually said. It’s these silent moments where Musgrove and Medlock are at their best, creating a distinct magnetism between these two unlikely characters without needing to say much at all.

I enjoyed seeing talent from across the Pacific Ocean, and would be keen to see what else these two graduates of Toi Whakaari: New Zealand Drama School are capable of. Having already performed Blinkers over several seasons in their native New Zealand, Musgrove and Medlock present a smooth, polished performance under the direction of Sophie Roberts; ensuring moments of humour are consistently interspersed with messages of true humility to get the audience thinking. The script could quite easily be expanded, as I was left at the end wanting to see Monty and Amy’s burgeoning relationship develop.

Turning the realm of a person’s living space from private to public, Blinkers makes the ordinary extraordinary.



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Set List

By Anne-Marie Peard. Trades Hall, Until October 11.

Set List is one of three improvised musical shows at this Fringe (that I know of). It has a fresh and enthusiastic, Micky and Judy, “let’s put on a show” feel about it, but needs to go back to the barn for a some more development.

Set List
is described as a band that “revels in the nuances, characters and stories behind one genre of music – with every note and lyric made up from audience suggestions”. This show was jazz – of the cheap motel, lounge act variety.

The Set List
crew are all undeniably talented and extremely likable performers.  Highlights such as “You make me feel so nauseous”, the ballad about Sean the Anthropologist and the vocal musings about the devil’s condiment, prove the potential for a terrific show – but this performance felt so unprepared.

The ongoing success of shows like the wonderful Spontaneous Broadway is based on intense rehearsal, perfect characters and an obsessive knowledge of (and love for) the genre they are parodying. The Set List characters were very unclear (apart from Ben McKenzie’s band leader) and their stories could have applied to any band that happened to be perpetually touring the world (and not aging) for the last 40 years.

It is uncomfortable to watch performers break character and joke with each other. Even more so to watch them compete against each other, try to upstage (you know who you are) and – it really looked and felt like – bicker with each other. The onstage characters weren’t defined or developed enough to behave like that – it was clear what was character and what was performer.

Finally – I may just be being obsessive and picky, but if you are promoting your show as a completely improvised set list – DON’T tape the typed and organised set list in clear view of the audience. It kind of destroys the mystery.



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Two Little Spiels: A Double Bill

By Anne-Marie Peard. Fringe Hub, Until October 11.

There’s big glitzy shows at the Fringe hub, but don’t forget the little gems that are sparkling away in hidden corners of the city.

Two Little Spiels is two shows in early stages of development: We Could Live Here - devised and performed by Bron Battern and Karina Smith, and A Preamble - devised and performed by Eva Johansen.

Both still have rough edges, but the shiny, glittery and diamond-hard cores of these works are clearly visible, and a tiny room above a Smith St café is the perfect place to see them.

No matter how much you rehearse, think and re-work a performance, theatre doesn’t live until it has an audience. Work in progress performances let artists discover where the connections are and what ideas should be developed.

Remarkably beautiful images emerge from the movement-based We Could Live Here. Battern and Smith use slowness, stillness and quiet to evoke memory and combine it with a slightly dark sense of humour that adds an almost bitter poignancy to the “tea with diamonds”. However, even though sadness and regret are delightfully contrasted with hope and imagination –I’m not sure if I was meant to walk away feeling hopeful or fearful about being a single, old woman.

Johansen is best known for her work with the wonderful kabaret troupe Caravan of Love. A Preamble is her first solo work, which she promises isn’t just about “women’s issues and post-coitalism”. An original balance of clown and ingénue, she effortlessly switches from slapstick routine to heat-breaking, room-silencing song. The contrast is sometimes contradictory, but the two sides will soon combine into a pretty amazing character, who will prove how it is possible to be sexy AND funny.

With such solid bases and obvious connections with their audiences, the next step for both shows should be external direction. To reach their full potential they need input from someone who doesn’t have the creators’ personal attachment.

Be prepared for is quite a long break in between shows, but make sure you see both – and use it as an excuse for a piece of cake or a cocktail.


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Master Of Disguise

By David Crofts. The Butterfly Club. Season closed.

It might have been cabaret performer Jacob Diefenbach’s first show in Melbourne but Master Of Disguise is highly unlikely to be his last.

The Brisbane-based singer-songwriter, with the dimpled smile and the sweet androgynous voice, had the audience completely entranced for his 11-song set, which charts the course of his own experience growing up gay in central Queensland intermingled with life’s usual joys and disappointments.

Highly poetic and searingly honest, Diefenbach’s songs have an immediacy and authenticity that only comes when music is conveying real emotional experiences.

The show is a mix of material from Diefenbach’s debut CD Ripping Stories for Boys and his later, more complex Master of Disguise.

A talented pianist, Diefenbach’s arrangements are carefully layered and almost textural – shifting with ease from a gentle melody or flurry of notes to a dark, percussive passage. He is never satisfied with the obvious, and constantly experimenting with dynamics, vocal tone and expression to heighten each song’s emotional impact.

My favourites on the night included ‘Casanova’ an achingly beautiful exploration of the way in which men feel pressured to hide their romantic natures, ‘Drive to Kill’ a tongue-in-cheek swipe at the heterosexual male obsession with cars, and ‘Mr Nobody’, an angry, cathartic rant against misplaced arrogance and superiority.

All of the songs are simply and efficiently introduced, without trying to oversell or explain, which allows each one to be savoured in its own right.

At times Diefenbach’s vocal attack reminded me very much of one of my favourite singer-songwriters Tori Amos but it wasn’t mimicry, and others have already compared him to Rufus Wainwright, but I can’t say I saw that quite as much.

Having already supported Australia’s cabaret king Paul Capsis in Sydney, Diefenbach is clearly making his presence felt as a serious performer and is bound to build on and refine his own personal style. And if he ever tires of sunny Bris-vegas, I’d happily welcome him to Melbourne.


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Melborn 08: Playspotting

By Anne-Marie Peard. Carlton Courthouse Theatre, Until October 11.

The Melbourne Writers’ Theatre is a wonderful organisation dedicated to developing, promoting and showcasing Australian script writing. Following the success of the 2007 MelBorn short play festival, I was looking forward to MelBorn08: Playspotting.

Playspotting
is 12 short plays, selected from 138 entries, featuring 11 directors and 15 actors. With such a large group of creatives, the quality and standard are always going to vary, and this years’ crop ranged from outstanding to woeful.

Jane Miller’s A Cup of Sugar was my highlight of the evening. Every time I see something she writes, I’m engaged and moved. Miller reveals extraordinary stories in ordinary lives, creates authentic, empathetic characters, and forces them to make unthinkable decisions and choices.  In this work, her characters have no choice but to tell heartbreaking lies that we can see staying with them for ever.


What made this work stand above the rest is that I cared about her characters and their stories. In so many other Playspotting plays, the characters were simply a means for the author to tell us a joke, preach an opinion or show off their knowledge. This resulted in too many clichéd, one-dimensional or simply forgettable characters – including an over-representation of poor, downtrodden, misunderstood artist protagonists.

There were some amazing, original and insightful ideas in all the scripts. The writing talent is obvious, but some were trying so hard to be original that that forgot to tell a story or just weren’t ready to be performed. Many felt like early drafts, and I have to wonder if the MWT work shopping and feedback processes are vigorous (or honest) enough.

At three hours,
MelBorn08: Playspotting is a long haul, twelve stories are a lot to think about, and – despite appreciating the work of every artist involved – I was disappointed in the result.



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10 Steps To Deportation

By Laura Hamilton. Hotel Discovery, Until October 11.

Ben Lomas and Evan Jones are such typical Aussie backpackers it hurts. You know the type – scruffy, expletive-laden youth full of ‘travel brags’ such as stealing food from hostel fridges and constantly getting strip searched at major airports.

Luckily, this makes for ideal comedic fodder. The two clearly created this show’s concept travelling on an overnight train somewhere between Paris and Prague (whilst picking up Scandinavian backpackers). Despite stage experience, they do rely on the majority of their audience being 18-35 year old like-minded travel addicts.

At times the show isn’t much more than immature toilet humour aimed at the venue’s 19-20 year old resident backpackers, but regardless of whether their tales are true, exaggerated or completely fabricated, it’s a hilarious hour of carefree entertainment, so grab your boarding pass and strap yourself in for a laugh or ten.


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Aristophanes’ Lysistrata

By Rowena Scanlon. Trades Hall, Until October 5.

Aristophanes’ Lysistrata
promises an evening of bawdy humour and a reflection of the age old politics of war through the timeless satire by one of the word’s greatest playwrights.

The women of ancient Greece have been bought together by the feisty eponymous heroine to form a united front and negotiate peace in their war-torn world. To do this, they take control of the money and withhold sex from the men in their lives until they see sense.

The idea of a new translation; a modern setting with current themes and characters, offers the potential for thought provoking and funny theatre. Unfortunately, this production falls someway short of the mark. If you are not a Classics scholar, as many in the company Omniprop are, you may find yourself wondering how Aristophanes’ work has endured and why on earth he is so celebrated.

A mixed cast offers stereotypes and caricatures in one dimension. Sadly, this is mostly true of the female characters that are meant to reveal women as the intelligent and powerful beings we all know them to be. The new translation draws on current affairs with references to both pop culture and Australian and world politics. In fact, little is left out in a desperate attempt to get laughs. From Rumsfeld and Cheney to Castro, Rudd, Germaine Greer and even Brumby, all are name checked but you are left wondering, what is the point? The program tells ‘those that miss the point Greece = "The World" in this play’. And this lack of faith in the audience continues as the subtle subtexts of Aristophanes are lost, replaced by overacting and an ill-advised Benny Hill sequence.

Christina Curtain carries much of the show as a sort of saucy librarian Lysistrata, but at each step is confronted with the confusion of this new translation. This text cannot decide whose side to be on in this battle of the sexes. Previous productions have taken a strong misogynist view, lampooning the female characters and their ability to think and act rationally; others have used the play as a feminist argument for equality. However, this production shows both men and women at their worst.

The new translation has focused on updating props and costumes, the oath is drunk to a phallic bottle of Penfolds Grange, without updating the position it takes on gender. The current political climate could have provided a wealth of material for a fresh take on this classic play, which is disappointingly left stranded somewhere between the ancient world and the modern.


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The Last Bucket Of Water

By John Richards. North Melbourne Town Hall, Until October 11.

Adam McKenzie, Robby Lloyd and Tegan Higginbotham recieved rave revies for their last  comedy show, Every Film Ever Made, and it's a pleasure to discover that their new show is even better.

In The Last Bucket Of Water the trio have been placed in a Lost-style facility where they must guard the last bucket of water left in Australia. It's a simple idea which serves as a springboard for some inspired comedy, as each tries to keep the water for themselves.

It's refreshing to see a comedy show so well-rehearsed and performed. There's thought and effort behind The Last Bucket Of Water, from the script to the set to the lighting design. The result is delicious silliness, and I hope McKenzie, Lloyd and Higginbotham plan to continue their collaboration for many shows to come.

There are a lot of pop culture references, which may be off-putting for some, but if you love The Goodies, gratuitous Doctor Who references, or think a joke about “The Darma And Greg Initiative” is comedy gold, do not miss this show. It's sheer brilliance.



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Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens In Toowoomba. (ever)

By Anne-Marie Peard. Festival Hub, Until October 11.

I don’t care how many ordinary shows I see during this Fringe, because the extraordinary Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens in Toowoomba. (Ever) makes up for them all.

Every once in a while you come across a script that makes your heart sing. This is one of those. Sarah Collins has created characters that you can’t help but love, in a world so vivid with detail that it’s hard to believe you didn’t see the Jump Rope for Heart display yourself.

Kevin-John’s conception was part-miracle and home-schooling may not have been the best decision his mother made. Following the incidents with putty and the letter D, Kevin-John is sent to the remedial class at the local school. Not being in the ‘normal’ school also has its challenges, but he meets Wren and is forced to discover his own greatness.

The love Collins has for her characters and her home town shines though the script. It would be so easy to laugh at the likes of Carousel Pony, Maryann and Crazy Nanny, but this writer shows all of their faults, flaws and mistakes without cynicism, so we always laugh with them – and we laugh a lot.

Her writing structure is exquisite. Each character’s journey is complete and all are encircled by the surprising action of Kevin-John’s mother, Julie. Collins tells the story from unexpected and changing points of view, reveals information at exactly the right time, and completes the world with irresistible details like fluffy knickies, Woolies flowers (which cost the price people pay for care when no one else is giving it), and the smell of disinfectant and vegemite.

What is also extraordinary about this work is that it’s a monologue, performed by the writer.

What is even more extraordinary is that it is the first script Sarah Collins has written.

It seems that nearly every time I’m astounded by a new script, Yvonne Virsik is directing it. In the hands of someone less capable, the beauty of Toowoomba could so easily have been misplaced. Virsik brings out the emotional essence a script. She finds empathy and the hidden understanding of the characters, but always lets the audience discover it for themselves.

Collins isn’t an experienced actor, but Virsik ably guides her performance; balancing the humour with poignancy, contrasting the light with the dark, and knowing when to let the script speak for itself and when to let the characters shine.

As if I can’t find enough good about this show, let me also add that the use of props and design is as good as the rest of it. The plastic tiaras, the Noddy egg cup and skipping rope are nostalgic and far more evocative and mysterious than their ordinariness suggests.

I think it’s clear that I liked Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens in Toowoomba. (Ever). If you want to see a beautiful, authentic story told perfectly – see this show. Or just go because every member of the audience gets a handmade macaroni bracelet. I’m still wearing mine.


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In The Arms Of A Lion

By Laura Hamilton. Northcote Town Hall, Until October 4.

A twisted tale of racial, sexual and religious dichotomies in apartheid South Africa of the 1980’s, it’s obvious Peter Van Der Merwe’s In The Arms of a Lion is based on his own harrowing childhood experiences growing up as white and gay in one of modern history’s most culturally and politically volatile environments.

We experience this traumatic time through the eyes and ears of several characters, all portrayed with strength and conviction by a solid Van Der Merwe and accompanied by an eerie soundtrack devised by Xana Chambers. Van Der Merwe says the script was based on ‘half memories’ – but the vivid way he tells his story it almost feels as though these memories are also ours by the end.

In Australia we are often told horrific tales about the racial apartheid regime in South Africa. We all know what happened. But Van Der Merwe brings another element of the era to the forefront of his story – that of sexuality. It would have been an issue overlooked in the prominence of the black vs white dissection, but apartheid was after all about punishing people for being ‘different’ from the supposed norm (whatever that was), and for some an expression of alternate sexuality would have certainly set them aside from what was accepted as mainstream.

Van Der Merwe’s range of raw emotion is extraordinary as he seamlessly embodies one character after the next leaving him totally exposed by play’s end. Most spine-tingling was Van Der Merwe’s portrayal as a jovial white South African soldier visiting a classroom to teach children how to identify bombs and be wary of terrorists. We often don’t accept how serious a situation is until children become involved, and innocence is a concept exploited to most effect here.

To see this production in a week where South Africa has changed its government for only the second time since the end of apartheid added to its significance.

Theatre that makes you think is a wonderful thing.



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Sondheim Unscripted

By David Crofts. Festival Hub, Until October 3.

I don’t often start a review by saying you really have to be there, but with Impro Melbourne’s sensational show Sondheim Unscripted, well, you really do.

This is one of the funniest and cleverest improvisational pieces I’ve seen for ages. From the moment the cast step on stage, they are simply brilliant, and very, very funny.

Sondheim UnScripted
is a completely improvised musical that pays tribute to one of Broadway's most extraordinary talents. Inspired by Sondheim’s signature style, the actors create a fully fledged stage musical on the spot – complete with dramatic solos, syrupy love duets, comic trios and classic ensemble pieces.

Based entirely on a theme suggested by the audience – which in our case happened to be ‘barbecue fever’ – you could almost hear how fast the actors had to think as they assigned themselves roles and started to tease out what would ultimately become a very unwieldy plot.

In our show a young married couple were hosting a barbecue to impress the wife’s pompous father-in-law, all the while being sabotaged by their slightly unhinged friends. Meanwhile the butcher supplying the meat suddenly developed a deep aversion to slaughter which sent him over the edge, and on a chaotic journey of self-discovery.

For me the best numbers were an extraordinary duet between father and son sheep who narrowly escape the butcher’s knife, a trio of deluded men in a cab on their way to the barbecue to offer themselves as human sacrifice, and a hilarious solo about the horrors of childbirth and raising kids. 

Sondheim UnScripted
is a co-creation of director Dan O'Connor, who hails from Impro Theatre Los Angeles, and has travelled to Australia to direct the Melbourne production.


Whatever work he has done with the cast in terms of honing their techniques, and their ability to feed off each other, is remarkable. Even if there is some hidden structure underneath the show – perhaps to do with the breakdown or type of songs they aim for each night – these guys are running on pure adrenalin and sheer creative terror, and it shows.

As with all good impro theatre, the joy for the audience is watching how it all unfolds as each performer picks up on the ideas and plot devices of their co-creators, and tries to keep the whole crazy juggernaut moving.

Not to be missed under any circumstances – especially if you don’t like musicals.



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Night Of The Devil Zombies

By John Richards. Northcote RSL Car Park, Until October 11.

Plays about zombies are like trams – you wait for ages for one, then the walking dead attack you and eat your brains.

There's been a choice of three different zombie-themed shows in Melbourne this last week – Ben Ellis's The Zombie State has just finished, and this year's Fringe includes Blades And Bitches – a zombie cabaret – and Night Of The Devil Zombies.

Night Of The Devil Zombies
takes a cinematic approach to theatre, using a real house as a location, and placing the audience ‘inside’ the story. There's no fourth wall here, as the characters can talk to you directly, even ask you to assist in the making of molotov cocktails...

The story is simple – everyone has taken refuge in a Northcote house to avoid the armies of the undead who are amassing outside. It's a seige drama that deliberately echoes the films of George A Romero, and uses sight, sound and even smell to tell the story.

There are some very clever moments during Night Of The Devil Zombies, which it would be unfair to spoil by revealing here. It could perhaps be a little stronger dramatically, and could use one more big scare, but it's an effective, innovative work and the ending is an absolute corker. Highly recommended.


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Zoetrope

By Anne-Marie Peard. Festival Club Arts House, Until October 11.

Forget the rides at the Melbourne show, and jump on the Zoetrope at the Fringe Club.

Zoetrope
is an experience, not just a performance. Creator Telia Nevile is determined to make audiences a much more integral and interactive part of the theatrical experience, because “the give and take of energy and emotion is what gives theatre its incredible buzz.”

Closed into a white picket fence enclose, her audience have to chat, communicate and move – just to fit everyone in.

Nevile and dancer Emily Amisano jump into the ride and the trip begins. Inspired by the smallest moments in daily life, they present identifiable glimpses of love, banality, boredom, passion and crudity – each tripping and effortlessly blending into each other.

As the performance happens outside of the enclosure, the assembled group juggle positions and taller folk happily squat and move, so that everyone can see the Zoetrope whimsy. The reactions of the assembled audience, and curious onlookers, are as much a part of the show as are the performers. “It’s exciting to make a show that pushes you as a maker and a performer, and it’s wonderful to watch how the audience reacts to it each night,” says Neville.

Now, it is possible to watch Zoetrope for free in the Fringe Club - but it’s like watching a roller coaster – you have no idea what it feels like unless you give it a go.

It’s only $5 for a spin (as much as beer) - and you’ll come away with a pretty cool better buzz, without any risk of hangover.


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The List Operators

By Anne-Marie Peard. Festival Hub, Until October 3.

Eleven reasons to see The List Operators

1.    Finally, a show that explains and discusses linguistic theory and the relationship between the signifier and the signified.

2.    Really crappy t-shirts that may, or may not, be referencing ‘Flight of the Conchords’.

3.    A chance to win a prize.

4.    If you have never seen the film ‘The Bodyguard’, the plot is summarised - so you will never have to see it.

5.    You may discover if Matt and/or Richard would shag you.

6.    The opportunity to cathartically and publically apologise to someone you once wronged.

7.    Juicy fruit puns.

8.    Jesus on a ping-pong bat. Oh, Yeah!

9.    Learning and applying the phrase ‘swimsuit area’.

10.    You can get a present that could help you with Number 3 if you arrive 75 minutes early and also see Nothing Extraordinary Ever Happens in Toowoomba. (Ever.) in the same venue. This show is nothing like The List Operators, but the writing, performance and direction are totally grouse – and you get that helpful present.

11.    The List Operators is refreshingly original, surprising and bloody funny. With immaculate comic timing, Matt Kelly and Richard Higgins deftly balance character and personality, as they try to camouflage their intelligence with some really bad props.

Five reasons not to see The List Operators

1.    You may discover that Matt and/or Richard would shag you.

2.    If you have seen the film ‘The Bodyguard’, you could publically humiliate yourself by quickly recognizing the plot.

3.    You are recovering from recent abdominal surgery and your doctor has advised you not to laugh in case you burst your stitches.

4.    It’s so good, it might sell out.

5.    If you find yourself sitting near the font, on the left side of the room - you will see Matt’s arse crack.


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Just Can't Get Enough

By David Crofts. Festival Hub, Until October 3.

If you’re expecting the ultimate in daggy, community singing then you might get just get a smile out of the Polyester Blenders, but much more than that I cannot promise.

Performing popular songs in harmonically-challenged a cappella style is nothing new, but in combination with deliberately irreverent and cringe-worthy choreography this show certainly takes its audience to another level – I’m just not sure I ever want to go there again.

Led by musical director and founder, Steph Payne, the choir lumber their way through a bunch of songs from classic acts such as ABBA and Bette Midler via Dolly Parton, Bruce Springsteen and Depeche Mode.

There’s no denying the vocal arrangements of some of the tunes are fun and highly inventive but in most cases the choir just don’t have the technical or vocal ability to really pull them off, which is a shame. You get a few glimpses here and there of what might be possible but it’s nowhere near enough to sustain a whole show.

But the main thing that lets this show down is not the choir’s limited ability but rather the overly long, unfunny introduction by host Kate Buttery and her rather stilted banter between each and every number, which for the most part isn’t necessary at all.

One of the main problems is that her material – often explanatory, overly simplistic and kind of patronising – just seems to be badly timed and often misses the mark. In a way she appeared to be taking her own performance a little too seriously when everyone else on stage clearly wasn’t.

Even so I have to admit there is something about the attitude of this bunch of choral wannabes – who don’t take themselves seriously at all – that is endearing. Sure, they’re not very tuneful most of the time and they certainly can’t move either but boy are they enthusiastic – and that’s got to count for something.


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The Undressing Room

By Anne-Marie Peard. Festival Hub, Until October 3.

I’ve seen Imogen Kelly’s work around the traps and always loved it. She grabs burlesque and strip by the tender bits and twists it into something fabulous, ironic and subversive. The Undressing Room is her first full-length, solo show, which somehow manages to turn burlesque and strip in something a bit self indulgent and boring.

The individual strips that Kelly performs within the show are as spectacularly brilliant as they always are, and there are some wonderful jokes - but they mean nothing in the context of the piece. When a character is built around a series of sketches, the sketches need to reflect, support or contradict that character. Instead of seeing moments of understanding, empathy and love, I was just left asking ‘why’?

The Undressing Room
is screaming out for a director, a writer or at least some critical outside eye to say ‘No’. I don’t care about the abundance of technical hitches that plagued opening night – in fact, they actually helped by breaking the tension and allowing the audience to comfortably laugh AT something. I do care that this show lacks structure, character, story and premise.

The concept seems to be that we are watching the performer behind the stripper - indeed a fabulous and intriguing start. In her dressing room Kelly’s character chats to an off-stage voice. They discuss the age-old question of what to call her girl bits. She has to reject ‘muff’, as these days strippers have to shave and ‘it’ is no longer fluffy. So ‘clacker’ to ‘husband hole’ are offered, with no real conclusion reached (and the opportunity for a fringe/minge joke was ignored).

We finally find out that the off-stage voice is her ego (at one stage, I thought it was her vagina) – which she eventually kills – I’m not sure why – but her ego disappears in a Psychoesque shower scene. Nonetheless, even though she is ego free, nothing about her performances seems to change.

I couldn’t figure out if this character likes her job. Does she enjoy the power of stripping, does she resent it, is she all exhibitionist, does she find it sexual, or is it just something she does to achieve her goal of being seen naked by one million people? As an audience, it’s very difficult to support her strip performances if we’re worried that the character hates what she is doing, or doesn’t have any concept of the politics of what she is doing.

If Kelly performed as herself, I’m sure it would be much clearer – as she does understand the things that her character seems to have missed. When Kelly let the character go, there was a much better connection with the audience and these moments were much more enjoyable.

The best thing about a Fringe festival is seeing the work artists really want to make and sharing in their experiments, discoveries and risks. Kelly is a bloody great performer with amazing material. I’m sure that The Undressing Room will tighten up as the season continues, but it needs a lot of work before it becomes the show it can (and I’m sure will) be.



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Andrew McClelland's Somewhat Accurate History Of Pirates

By Anne-Marie Peard. Festival Hub, Until September 27.

Ahhh…now that I’ve realised that Andrew McClelland's Somewhat Accurate History of Pirates (1550-2017) is a return season of a 2003 show, I’m much more comfortable with it. For one thing, it proves just how far McClelland has come as a performer and writer, and I changed my opinion from ‘Argh! - walk the plank ya scurvy tossser‘ to ‘Arrrr, yee be a fine and amusing lad’.

Pirates is presented as a “lecture” about the history of piracy, specifically the pirates of the Caribbean (and not a Johnny Depp in sight!) The information is more year 8 project than honours thesis, but it appears as somewhat accurate as the title suggests. (And I will proudly file my Bachelor of Piratology with my other well-used academic qualifications.)

McClelland is one of the most likable comedians around, and his Mix Tape is one of my favourite stand up shows in recentish times. Much of his success is based on him being a delightfully likeable nerd. Pirates is presented by a likeable-but-not-quite-as-likeable professor, who becomes much more likeable when McClelland drops the character and takes over. It’s a very dodgy character performance, but the professor needed McClelland’s intervention when the show lagged. The character created distance, while Andrew created intimacy.

As a return show, McClelland spent his time enjoying the visit to his past and soaking in the obvious love from his very full audience. He also seemed determined to include every possible joke, which slowed the pace down considerably and resulted in a very rushed conclusion.

It was kind of nice to see where McClelland came from, Pirates was fun, but it’s no where near as good as his recent work, and I’m very glad that he’s sailed into more complex waters.



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Burnt
By Laura Hamilton. La Mama Theatre, until October 5.

A poignant reflection of the temptations of modern-day society, Tony Zeane’s Burnt is a gripping social commentary aimed at Gens X, Y and Z.

33 year old Nick (Chris Buchanan) is a chronic gambler. Trying to make something of his life and career, his increasingly serious gambling problem keeps rearing its ugly head, causing devastating fractions in his personal relationships. The profiling of these relationships resonates strongly, especially that between Nick and his well-meaning but desperate and broke mother Helen (Iris Walshe-Howling).

Nick Parson’s expert direction is clear and concise. His protagonist has all the makings of the perfect stage character – the one we love to hate. He’s young, affable and attractive and plagued with contemporary problems, which makes for a refreshing change from the typical pension-guzzling grandma we usually see associated with gambling problems. Buchanan’s portrayal of this character is central to the success of Burnt, and he certainly does justice to the brilliance of Zeane’s script. It’s hard to guess that most of Buchanan’s stage experience is in music theatre.

The stellar cast of eight has plenty of stage experience between them and it shows, with the range of emotions explored and intensity sustained throughout Zeane’s script outstanding.

La Mama’s intimacy makes this tale all the more harrowing and succeeds in bringing home countless truths about the vulnerability of human nature.



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Mysteries Of The Convent 08

By Anne-Marie Peard. Abbotsford Convent, until October 5.

I know I shouldn’t be calling favourites this early in the festival, but it’s going to take something special to top Mysteries of the Convent '08.

All tours should be as fun and inspiring as Peepshow Inc’s tour of the Abbotsford Convent.  Being greeted with a mug of mulled wine and wandering this stunning complex at night is worth the ticket alone, but the delightfully incompetent and perfectly hilarious tour guide (created by Robyn McMicking) is an unforgettable bonus. She reveals the special features of the convent, like the lead light window of a man in a robe with a staff and a sheep - she doesn’t know who he is.

As the tour explores the buildings, they glimpse, watch and are met by ghosts and memories of the convent’s first occupants. Director and creator Melinda Hetzel worked with the cast to create a unique experience that combines a deep respect for the history of the place, with a dark poignancy and a loving, whimsical and often unexpected humour.

Puppetry, movement, live music and projection effortlessly meld with the spaces to create vignettes and that are as close to perfect as possible. By allowing the images to speak for themselves, Hetzel’s direction lets the unsaid be as strong as the said, and creates complexity within the simplicity of the story.  Oil drop projections, a nun with a cello, Geelong religious icons and ‘The Vatican Rag’ ensure laughter, but this absurdity and incongruity result in a beauty and warmth that is irresistible.

Peepshow Inc takes us out of the theatre into a world made theatrical. Mysteries of the Convent '08 is gorgeous, delicate and inspiring. Make time to see this show, and remember to wear your flat shoes and bring a jacket.



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Stephen K Amos Gets Next To You

By John Richards. The Athenaeum, until September 28.

For those used to Comedy Festival shows, Stephen K Amos's show at the Atheneum is surprisingly old-school – for a start, at 90 minutes it's quite long, and there's even a disposable warm-up act. There's also no structure or theme, just Amos doing stand-up.

There's no doubt Amos is a good stand-up. An odd combination of misanthrope and charmer; he talks about his family, travel, and includes a lot of audience interaction. He's a good mimic, and my favourite of his personas is the posh Englishman, which he obviously enjoys playing. It's a little odd that he spends a lot of the act talking about being black, but includes only a throw-away reference to being gay. Amos has become a mainstream favourite through his appearances on shows like Rove and Spicks & Specks, so perhaps he feels the need to keep the show as straight-friendly as possible – there was noticeable unease in the audience when he talked about politics and indigenous affairs. (There were also some dead moments when Amos wandered into UK-only topics like East Enders.)

If you're looking for a sure comedy bet this Fringe, Amos will definitely deliver. It is possible to have too much of a good thing, however, and if they lost the warm-up and cut the show to an hour it would be even better.

A final point, can we please have a moratorium on overseas acts talking about quarantine restrictions? Yes, you can't bring bananas into the country – get over it. It's become the modern equivalent of “airline food, what's up with that?” or doing material about cats and dogs. It's tired and it's time to let it go.




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