Reality Check [Pictured]
This was a nice opener to the Wildcards of the week; it reminded us why theatre and acting exist in the first place – as an escape from reality. Written by Campbell Grahame, it followed a group as they hopped from one scenario to the next, re-inventing themselves and improvising in a theatresports-style fashion. And there was one character, constantly on his mobile phone, trying to explain to the person at the other end what was going on. Although there was no character development or attachment, this performance achieved what so many other plays fail to capture – a dynamic, simple script that makes it seem unscripted.

Bathing With Tadpoles
Two men are in an inflatable raft, reminiscing about better days – days when there were tadpoles in the creek, when there was no wife, kids, responsibilities. This was your average ‘don’t want to grow up’ performance with an original twist. The characters are likeable, and the performance is good as a nostalgic reflection, although slightly slow and I was left ultimately unsatisfied.

Mrs Smith Of Sydney
This was one of the stand-outs of the week 3 wildcards. In their hotel room, a rock star and the groupie ‘Sidney from Sydney’ ponder the past, present and possible future of their relationship, or lack thereof. Mrs Smith was funny, poignant and dealt with an original situation in a fresh, dynamic way. Writer David Sharpe was spot-on with his dialogue and not once did the performance feel tired or boring. It was wonderfully refreshing to see a simple, unpretentious, well-executed performance.

Space Play
This was another performance that proved that occasionally less is more in the theatre world. With only three characters, and a very basic plot, it was like watching a computer game where the characters talk to each other. Written by David Bourke, this was predictable although still entertaining.

Peace At Any Price
This performance was stunning. There are too few plays that deal with old age as an issue, and the ones that do end up making a farce of it – Grumpy Old Women style. Peace at any price, with an upbeat, clever script written by John Muirhead, is witty, truthful and not patronizing. Set in a retirement village (or a hospital), Jack tries to cover up the fact that his friend Harry has killed the fellow in the next bed, while the nurse remains totally oblivious. Susan Stapleton did a fantastic job of directing this and the result is a simple, engaging performance.

Frozen In Time
I almost groaned aloud because I thought this was another angst-filled female monologue about child molestation, but I was pleasantly surprised. Frozen In Time is a female monologue, but the subject matter is just that of memory and the important things in life. A girl stands in line at a coffee shop and reflects on the sunrise and how so many beautiful days go by and we only remember the bad things that happen. The touching messages were simply delivered and Michael Gottsche (the writer) did a wonderful job making the monologue mimic the natural thought process, not too melodramatic, not too vulgar. I can not think of a single person who would not benefit by seeing this.

Feeding Mr Why
Let’s face it - science is just not sexy. It’s so hard to make Albert Einstein appeal to an arts-loving crowd, which is why I appreciate Craig Delancey’s attempt, but didn’t enjoy it. Feeding Mr Why sees Einstein and two other prolific 20th Century physicists/mathematicans/who-cares-what-they-are-they’re-boring-anyway engaged in a quest to get Mr Why (one of the aforementioned scientists) to eat. Albert and the other one (who has a passible German/Austrian accent) attempt to reason with the paranoid Mr. Why and produce observations, statistics and inferences to try and persuade. It’s a clever concept and well-written and well-executed, and worked well in a short format, but sadly, ultimately we don’t care if Mr Why eats or not.

Still Life
Ben Cheshire, when writing this, must have been of the ‘My play is scripted to look unscripted’ school of playwriting. Sadly, this does not work where the play within the play is not actually a play! Two characters, He and She, couldn’t be more different. He embarrases She, but She also embarrases She by not going along with He. There was no story, no resolution, no development and it wasn’t even funny. When He runs up the theatre stairs and She screams ‘You’re breaking the fourth wall’ I felt patronised and insulted as a member of the audience.

The Critic
This performance held a great deal of potential. It was also of the ‘play within the play’ school (let’s get it straight – no one is fooling anybody. We audience members can actually tell that something is scripted, give us some credit!). Two actors haul a critic onto the stage and point out each other’s faults, faults which the critic hadn’t thought of himself, thus shooting themselves in the foot. This was predictable, and the novelty wore off after the first few minutes. The irony of myself reviewing something like this is not lost, however I feel had I been the critic they hauled on stage, I could have held my own.

Blood Oranges
This would have worked much better as a longer performance. A couple from the deep south of America have only one Orange on their tree and are unable to pay their bills. The male dies and the female goes on a train journey with him seated next to her. There wasn’t enough to lure us into the plot, and the characters seem complex but ten minutes is too short a time to show us their complexities so overall it was a baffling, yet well-performed piece that left us wanting more, but only because it gave us so little.

Fat
If I wanted to hear myself think, I would stay at home. Fat is essentially the monologue that occurs in every girl’s head. Nothing different, nothing deeper, nothing more exciting. Simply “I am fat. People will like me if I’m thin. They’ll treat me differently. I’ve tried to lose weight, why can’t I lose weight” and the antidote to this – the long suffering friend (of the same size), interjecting “You’re not fat. You’re beautiful”. We’ve heard it all before and Kasamawati Masmintra Chaiyanara offers no new insights or developments. Not even a new choice one-liner comeback. This was disappointing, not to mention boring.