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Welcome to Cultural Binge
The rating system is simple:
★★★★★ – Terrific, world-standard. Don’t miss.
★★★★ – Great, definitely worth seeing.
★★★ – Good. Perfectly entertaining. Recommended. Individual mileage may vary.
★★ – Fine. Flawed and not really recommended, but you may find something to appreciate in it.
★ – Bad (& possibly offensive).
See more reviews over at The Queer Review.
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35mm: A Musical Exhibition (Flight Path) ★★★★
Music & Lyrics by Ryan Scott Oliver. Based on photographs by Matthew Murphy. Flight Path Theatre. 30 Nov – 9 Dec, 2023.
35mm: A Musical Exhibition, the song-cycle by Ryan Scott Oliver, has the energy of noughties rock radio. So get ready for your girl-rock anthems, indie romance belters and quirky singer-songwriters all mixed with musical theatre storytelling. There’s no real narrative (you can weave your own along the way), but the voices are big and bold and each snapshot song is a world all its own.
Ensemble of 35mm: A Musical Exhibition. Photo: Clare Hawley. The songs are loosely held together by the premise of a photographer capturing snippets of the world around them (the songs were originally inspired by the photographs of Matthew Murphy, Oliver’s husband, which are not presented in this production but you can see them here if you like). The premise is spelt out in the free, online programme but to be honest its rather pointless and more confusing than not. I recommend just relaxing and going with the flow – the music and vocals here are more than enough to hold your attention. This is a powerhouse showcase for crystal clear voices and these performers make the most of it.
The cast are as diverse as the individual tunes. Production company Little Triangle has expanded the cast to nine (traditionally it’s only five) and made a point of casting through a queer lens, flipping the genders of some roles to create LGBTQ+ pairings for many of the love songs. Mikayla Burnham blows the room off with “Leave Luanne”, a brutal, bluesy tale of domestic violence. Izzy Hanly and Aaron Robuck give us 70s stadium-rock counter-melodies in “Make Me Happy” (which reminded me of Max Vernon’s The View Upstairs) and Brodie Masini serves comedic charm with songs like “Good Lady” and “Twisted Teeth”.
Nina Carcione & Brodie Masini. Photo by Clare Hawley. It isn’t till late in the proceedings that Oliver seems to speak directly to the audience to put them at ease with this non-linear, motley collection of songs, with the full ensemble number “Why, Must We Tell Them?” (which resembles Jonathan Larson’s “Why” from Tick, Tick… Boom!):
“But why must we tell them why?
Why excuse each deviation? Why
Must we serve them prix fixe art
Or prove each part (art a la carte)?
Look, all we’re saying is
Look. All we’re saying is
All we’re saying is. Look.
Why must we justify?
Let’s defy their forms and fixtures, not
Playing by their rules of thumb.
Gots to become a little numb.”
Oli McGavock. Photo by Clare Hawley. The show is limited by its lack of budget. A bit more staging, lighting (and better sound, definitely better sound) would elevate this cast even further. Personally, I would have preferred to lose the staging entirely and play the evening as a kick-ass semi-staged concert (ala Six) focusing on the music. But the cast and the songs smooth over any rough patches.
Ensemble of 35mm: A Musical Exhibition. Photo: Clare Hawley. With a wide mix of subjects, ranging from love-songs to gothic tales or comedic interludes, 35mm: A Musical Exhibition feels like a tightly programmed cabaret concert. This is a showcase for talent – both on stage and in the writing. I’ve had the original cast recording on a loop since seeing the show. If you love great rock musical vocals you’ll love this, plus the tunes are so engrossing you won’t hear any of the infamous planes flying overhead.
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Track Works (Mortuary Station) ★★★1/2
Devised by Thomas De Angelis and Clemence Williams. Featuring music by Carl Orff, Dvorak, Verdi, Gounod, Rossini, Puccini and Bizet. Mortuary Station. 21 Nov – 19 Dec, 2023.
Chances are you’ve driven, or caught a train past, Mortuary Station. You’ve probably caught a flash of the architecture as you sped past or maybe you’ve seen photoshoots for brands, or just someone’s wedding, staged there. Well now you can hear some classic arie while gazing at the stonework in a new, site-specific show called Track Works.
Waiting for their train, a motley group of commuters find themselves stuck together. A young lawyer with a satchel full of paperwork, two schoolgirls up to mischief, a straggler and the station master, navigate their way around each other. But their behaviours collide as they wait and wait.
Anastasia Gall and Sophie Mohler in Track Works. Playwright Thomas De Angelis and director Clemence Williams have made an amusing and eminently pleasant evening’s entertainment with Track Works. Adapting a range of recognisable operatic classics from Carmen, The Marriage of Figaro, La Traviata, La Boheme, Madame Butterfly etc to a very modern situation. As fun and beautifully sung as the music is, the brisk 45 min show is held together by the amusing and entrancing antics of the performers on stage.
Lily Harper and Eden Shifroni in Track Works. As the two schoolgirls start to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting public, the comedy mixes with the music and action together. The platform itself makes for a well resourced stage, with multiple entrances and rooms the cast can duck into at the side, while the benches on the platform serve multiple purposes. The stunning sandstone architecture is as good a set as you could imagine (the show would feel less romantic were it staged in the middle of Town Hall Station).
The young cast get to stretch their talents up close. Lily Harper (Cendrillon, Madama Butterfly), Eden Shifroni (La Bohème), Sophie Mohler (L’incorinazione di Poppea), Anastasia Gall (Die uberflöte) and Michael Kaufmann (The Coronation of Poppea) make the most of their characters and work the comedy as much as their vocals.
Anastasia Gall and Sophie Mohler in Track Works. It’s a lovely way to spend an hour in the middle of the city. Grab a bite in Spice Alley or The Old Clare Hotel nearby before or after, and then sit back and enjoy the show.
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Looking Ahead to 2024 – Final Update!
Judging by the announced theatrical seasons, 2024 is looking pretty stacked with shows that have got me excited. I’ve done a bit of a dive into the seasons for Sydney Theatre Co., Belvoir, Ensemble, Griffin, Opera Australia, Hayes, Seymour Center, New Theatre and more to make some plans. Here are my totally unsoliticted thoughts…
THREE MAIN TAKEAWAYS
Cost of Living. Melbourne Theatre Company (L) Sydney Theatre Co & Queensland Theatre (R) 1. THE COST OF LIVING ‘CRISIS’ / ‘DOUBLE’ THE INHERITANCE
How did we end up with two, independent productions of both Martyna Majok’s Pulitzer Prize winning play Cost of Living, and Matthew Lopez’s Oliver & Tony Award winning play, The Inheritance playing the East Coast capitals?
The dual Cost of Living productions start with the STC/Queensland Theatre co-production starring Philip Quast, directed by Priscilla Jackman and Dan Daw, quickly followed by a separate production at MTC directed by Anthea Williams.
Meanwhile Melbourne kicks off the double hit of The Inheritance (which is a two-play epic) at Fortyfive Downstairs in January, before a different production comes to Sydney’s Seymour Centre in November.
Of course, this is a gem for all the theatre geeks – the chance to compare and contrast two acclaimed works interpreted by two different teams. My suggestion? See both!
The Inheritance. Fortyfive Downstairs (L) Seymour Centre (R) 2. THE YEAR OF JOANNA MURRAY-SMITH & SUZIE MILLER
Murray-Smith can sit back and cash the royalty cheques with three plays in circulation this year. There’s the return of the Julia Gillard hagiography Julia (at STC and touring), plus Ensemble are staging a revival of Switzerland and premiering her new adaptation of Uncle Vanya.
Meanwhile, Suzie Miller also joins the triple-show club with returning productions of RBG: Of Many One (STC) and Jailbaby (Griffin), and a new production of her earlier play Sunset Strip (New Theatre). Frankly, this is no bad thing in my book!
Uncle Vanya. Ensemble Theatre. 3. IF IT AIN’T BROKE…
At a rough count we have FOURTEEN productions coming back for more. There’s Julia and No Pay, No Way at STC. Suzie Miller’s RBG: Of Many One (STC) and Jailbaby (Griffin). Griffin’s Golden Blood gets a bigger run at STC (before touring). Belvoir are giving Counting & Cracking a well deserved victory lap, this time at Carriageworks, plus promoting Never Closer to the upstairs theatre. Outhouse Theatre’s brilliant Ulster American is having its third Sydney run, this time at Ensemble Theatre, and Darlinghurst Theatre Co are re-running Overflow. Plus there’s the commercial production of Chicago: The Musical (that staging is stuck in time),Handa Opera’s West Side Story from 2019 and Hamilton & The Rocky Horror Show both returning.
Okay let’s start breaking things down a little more…
A Fool in Love. Sydney Theatre Company. NEW WORK
New plays are obviously impossible to pre-judge. You can make a rough guess based on the playwright, but if you’re a theatre nerd (and you’re taking the time to read this, so I assume you are) it’s the thrill of discovery that gets your bum into the stalls. With Griffin shutting the stables door while they get a big upgrade, there’s a bit of a gap in new work in 2024 compared to normal too so I suggest we all stretch out and see more elsewhere as well.
The Queens Nanny. Ensemble Theatre. Melanie Tait’s new play, The Queen’s Nanny (Ensemble), has the potential to be either comfort food for the oldies or tap into some big emotions & topics. Swim (Griffin), the theatrical debut from poet Ellen van Neerven, feels topical and full of potential. STC have scheduled another queer comedy for Mardi Gras season, Van Badham’s A Fool in Love (after La dama boba by Lope de Vega) which should be good for a socially-minded giggle.
Watershed: The Death of Doctor Duncan. Opera Australia. Plus we have the already mentioned, award-Hoovering, two-part The Inheritance which will be the big LGBTQ+ piece of the year (Belvoir’s Holding The Man and Opera Australia’s Watershed: The Death of Doctor Duncan are high on my must-see list). Though famously it was a massive hit in London, less so on Broadway, so I’ll be curious to see how Australian audiences react to it. At nearly 7hrs long, across both plays, I’m just going to suggest you bring a nice cushion to the theatre with you. Spoilers: I’ve seen The Inheritance six times and adore it.
A Case for the Existence of God. Seymour Centre. The brilliant Sam Mendez directed production of The Lehman Trilogy comes to Australia (believe the hype – it’s as good as they say). Outhouse Theatre Co are back at Seymour Centre with a new show, Samuel D. Hunter’s A Case for the Existence of God, which won the 2022 New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award. Their work has been impeccable for years now so this one is a “book right away” choice for me.
New Theatre have a number modern classics in their season. From James Graham’s Rupert Murdoch play, Ink, Martin McDonagh’s Hangmen, and Jordan Seavey’s Homos, Or Everyone in America (which I’ve wanted to see for a while). And I wouldn’t call this one a “classic” but the stage version of Shakespeare In Love boasts Lee Hall adapting Marc Norman & Tom Stoppard’s screenplay – surely that’s just theatrical comfort food.
I was really impressed with Sam O’Sullivan’s Boxing Day BBQ last year, one of those plays I knew nothing about but gripped me in a way I wasn’t expecting. So I’m keen to see what his new play, McGuffin Park (Ensemble) has in store for us.
Zombie: the Musical. Hayes Theatre. Hayes has doubled down on the new writing this year, and I really hope it pays off. TikTok sensation Ride The Cyclone could be catchy fun or drive anyone over the age of 16 insane. The combination of Griffin and Hayes in the mix of Flat Earthers gives me faith there’s more to this one than meets the eye.
Hayes also has a World Premiere from Laura Murphy (The Lovers, The Dismissal) in Zombie: The Musical. That makes three new shows produced in just two years for Murphy (if I’m counting correctly). That is a ridiculous pace for a musical theatre songwriter and I’ll be frank, as much as I loved both The Lovers and The Dismissal, the music varied from ear-worm to forgettable filler. Neither took up much space in my mental play-list, so I just hope that the zombie of the title isn’t Murphy herself after being worked to death.
The President. Sydney Theatre Co. RETURN OF THE KINGS/QUEENS
Each year seems to give us the return of some notable name to the stage, and this year we’ve got plenty. Hugo Weaving, Kerry Armstrong and Colin Friels are back at STC. Sarah Brightman coming to Aus for Sunset Boulevard will be a major event. David Williamson has un-retired to bring us a new play, The Great Divide (Ensemble), plus he’s got a comedy in South Australia, The Puzzle. Griffin is serving a triptych of Louis Nowra’s. And we have short run cabarets from Todd McKenny (Ensemble) and Carlotta (Hayes).
Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World. Sydney Festival. SYDNEY FESTIVAL
Sydney Festival proves to be a great time to push the boat out a bit and see things beyond your usual tastes. This year we’ve got Belgian theatre company Ontroerend Goed’s Are we not drawn onward to new erA. Climate change plays are usually, sadly, a bit crap but this could be very interesting. National Theatre of Parramatta & the Javaad Alipoor Company’s Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World returns after a 2022 preview run, a bit of post-modern look at our obsession with true crime.
Holding The Man. Belvoir. THE SHOWS THAT REALLY INTEREST ME…
There are a few shows that have piqued my interest above the rest.
There are some modern classics getting a welcome new production. Holding The Man, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time and August: Osage County at Belvoir and Masterclass (not to be confused with a different Masterclass at Sydney Festival) and Colder Than Here (Laura Wade’s Posh is favourite of mine so I’m glad to get a chance to see her earlier work) at Ensemble are all ticking boxes for me, as well as the already mentioned Switzerland and Cost of Living.
Dracula. Sydney Theatre Co. The two shows that have really got me intrigued are both happening at Sydney Theatre Co. There’s Zahra Newman in Dracula, the final part of Kip Williams’ gothic cine-theatre trilogy. This feels like a combination of great elements (great actress in an anti-intuitive role, mixed with genre busting tech) that could be real theatrical dynamite. And there’s a totally new staging of Dear Evan Hansen – which has the theatre nerd in me excited. The idea of a world-first reinvention of a modern show (plus the mechanics of a co-production between STC and commercial producer Michael Cassel) has my expectations set high – which may be its undoing I guess. I guess that makes up for them programming Lynn Nottage’s Sweat, which won the Pulitzer, but I found it predictable and one-note when I saw it in London – maybe this time it’ll win me over? I had a similarly neutral reaction to Constellations when I first saw it, and STC turned me around on that one.
Turn of the Screw. Hayes Theatre. And slightly left field, but I can’t wait to see what director Craig Baldwin does with an operatic version of Turn of the Screw at Hayes Theatre. His work with Outhouse Theatre Co has been outstanding, so this could be a sleeper-hit in the making.
English. Melbourne Theatre Company. WORTH PLANNING A WEEKEND AWAY?
As always, Melbourne is getting the prime cuts of the big musical theatre with Groundhog Day already announced and Beetlejuice coming in 2025 (but at least Sydney gets & Juliet in 2024). Tim Minchin’s Groundhog Day is one of my favourite new musicals of the last decade (I’ve seen it three times now), so that one is definitely worth a trip south.
Melbourne Theatre Company also has the debut of a new musical based on My Brilliant Career, plus the Australian Premiere of the 2023 Pulitzer Prize winner, English by Sanaz Toossi. Queensland Theatre has a musical based on kids TV classic, Round The Twist, written by Paul Hodge. Brisbane’s La Boite has a revival of Patrick Marber’s brilliant Closer in the mix. While the State Theatre of SA has Lucy Kirkwood’s The Children, a new musical co-written by Van Badham called The Questions.
But the show that has me really fascinated is Malthouse’s adaptation of Under The Skin based on Michael Faber’s novel (and the 2013 A24 film version starring Scarlett Johansson). It’s a weird, sci-fi tale so bringing it to the stage will require big imaginations.
The Great Divide. Ensemble Theatre. IN CONCLUSION…
There’s a wide variety of shows (and this isn’t even counting our smaller independent and fringe venues) coming our way which is more than enough to keep us busy, and our wallets potentially aching. Will they all be hits? Of course not, but 2023 was a damn good year so signs are positive. Like superannuation providers it’s important to stress that past performance isn’t necessarily an indicator of future results, but we live in hope.
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The Seagull (Sydney Theatre Co) ★★★1/2
Written by Anton Chekhov. Adapted by Andrew Upton. Sydney Theatre Company. 21 Nov – 16 Dec, 2023.
Sydney Theatre Company closes out 2023 with as close to a “safe bet” as they’ve had all year. A familiar, classic play, adapted by a familiar, acclaimed playwright, starring a lot of familiar, adored faces. This should be an end-of-year showstopper, but as good as it is The Seagull is a bit less than the sum of its excellent parts.
Andrew Upton’s return to STC will excite many (and frighten a few I’m sure) and his new version of Chekhov’s The Seagull seems pitched at the creatives in the audience, mocking the world of artistic endeavour and the fame/artistry divide with almost pantomime glee. Original Russian names are Anglicised (Konstantin is Constantine, Trigorin is now Boris, Sorin is just Peter etc), the overly self-aware script front loads the tale with comedy (ably delivered by this great cast), but the haze of depression and danger hangs over proceedings. This is Chekhov after all, it’s never going to end well for everyone.
Harry Greenwood. Photo: Prudence Upton. Among this cast of excellent-as-ever returning STC players like Toby Schmitz (Blithe Spirit), Sigrid Thornton (The Lifespan of a Fact), Megan Wilding (The Importance of Being Earnest), Brigid Zengeni (Do Not Go Gentle) and Markus Hamilton (Fences), it is Harry Greenwood who steals the show as Constantine. While the romantic farce plays out around him, Greenwood’s Constantine is foppishly fragile and broken. He manages to be both marvellously comedic and desperately pathetic at the same time. His conflicted relationship with his mother (Thornton) is beautifully realised as they lovingly tears strips off each other – the moment is bizarrely tender and cruel.
Harry Greenwood and Mabel Li. Photo: Prudence Upton. Despite the zingers in the script and the all-round fun performances, this production starts to feels flat, almost literally so in many instances with the cast arranged in neat lines along the wide set. David Fleischer’s set design is claustrophobic, full of boxes within boxes, keeping a constant pressure on the characters that feels at odds with the script’s humour (but in keeping with the tension of the story). This is matched with unrelenting lighting that offers little reprieve. The result is a show that is hard to physically take in at times. By the end my eyes were in need of a break or refresh in the visual palate to stop from feeling drained.
The ensemble of The Seagull. Photo: Prudence Upton. The space however is filled with some brilliantly funny moments. Wilding is at her frazzled and frantic best (though I do worry she’s being awfully typecast now). Schmitz has perfected his middle-aged-man-child and shines giving his “writers lament”. Sean O’Shea delivers a killer monologue… about goats. Thornton gets to stick it to every pretentious performer you’ve ever seen give an ingratiating interview. Mabel Li’s Nina is charmingly dim, without a hope in the world. Through each of them Chekhov, via Upton, mocks the ridiculousness of our human nature before diving us headlong into the tragedy of our existence.
Markus Hamilton & Megan Wilding. Photo: Prudence Upton. Upton’s adaptation of Chekhov is full of irreverent, modernised humour (the purists will be mad) and this comedic ensemble bring The Seagull to life. I just wish the direction and design were filled with the same emotional dexterity as the text.
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Darwin’s Reptilia (Belvoir 25a) ★★1/2
Written by Charlie Falkner. Belvoir 25a. 15-26 Nov, 2023.
Darwin’s Reptilia, closing out 2023’s Belvoir 25a season, is bonkers. Whether you think it’s “good bonkers” or “bad bonkers” is going to be entirely up to you, but at $25 a ticket it’s hardly a huge investment. For me, The Master & Margarita upstairs is peak “good bonkers”, but despite the heat Darwin’s Reptilia comes across under-cooked.
We start in New York at a PR party for Renata (Ainslie McGlynn) who’s written a self-help book of dubious quality. Her partner, Declan (Danny Ball) is distracted by the awful industry people around them when Renata receives a shocking message. Her estranged birth mother has died. Renata decides to fly to Darwin, with Declan and their baby, to attend the funeral and meet her half-sister, Flick (Zoe Jensen). When rogue crocodile’s force everyone to stay in their crappy hotel for days on end, tensions and temperatures start to rise.
Danny Ball, Ainslie McGlynn, Mathew Lee. Photo: Phil Erbacher. Designer Ruth Arnold has done excellent work on a tight budget, the “pool” was a nice highlight that had me fascinated and also craving lime jelly on the way home. Lighting by Saint Clair and sound design by Hewett Cook do a lot of heavy lifting to sell the sharp changes of scene and tone.
Zoe Jensen. Photo: Phil Erbacher. The performances are generally very good. Some are pitched at “watch me being funny” exaggeration, others trying to stay grounded. Mathew Lee gives nuance to the awkward fanboy John who follows Renata to Australia in search of some direction. Danny Ball plays Declan’s big swings with gusto, one of the few roles that has material an actor can really sink their teeth into.
A major problem is that reality is too often sacrificed at the altar of “quirky” with the characters lacking any internal consistency or genuine human behaviour. Renata’s descent into madness is given no grounding in the script, it merely happens. Declan spends the opening scene completely self-absorbed, but the rest of the play being a responsible(ish) parent. He also has a third-act “revelation” that doesn’t actually mean anything. Flick is narcoleptic (why?) with a disturbing nocturnal tendency (no spoilers – but why? And also, wha-huh?). Hotel Manager Bobbi (Leilani Loau) receives earth-shattering news in one scene, which is hand-waved off in the next.
Zoe Jensen, Leilani Loau. Photo: Phil Erbacher. Taken in isolation, much of this works. Most of the performances are strong and individual scenes are just fine. But when everything is put together it’s clear the puzzle pieces don’t fit, no matter how hard you push them into place. Once the script has cycled all five leads through each possible pairing, it has nowhere else to go. What do these characters actually want? What is the point of putting these characters in this situation? What do they reveal about each other? The narrative gets lost in the shuffle as Renata (ostensibly the main character) fades from the action and lacks an emotional climax. The ending is almost too absurd, and unearned, to mention. I can see the glimmer of interesting thoughts here, but the unfocused storytelling gets in their way.
Danny Ball. Photo: Phil Erbacher. Darwin’s Reptilia may work for you. The comedy and drama were too uneven for my tastes and the more I looked, the more issues I had with the script. But there was definitely laughter in the room and other reviewers have been warmer to it than I am. So I’d say, if you’re interested, grab a ticket and see for yourself. At $25 a seat, you’ll probably spend more on a pre-show meal anyway.
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The Master & Margarita (Belvoir) ★★★★★
Devised by the cast and creative team. Based on the novel by Mikhail Bulgakov. Belvoir St Theatre. 11 Nov – 10 Dec, 2023.
There are words and phrases which, when I see them in a show description, give me pause. “Immersive”, “interactive” and “devised by the company” all equal one thing in my mind – “mind-dumbing self-indulgence”, or at the very least the potential to be. So when I read that Belvoir’s The Master & Margarita was “devised by the cast”, in addition to “duration: 3hrs” and adapted from a Russian novel… well my brain was prepared for a whole evening of pain.
I should have known better.
The Master & Margarita is one of the most vibrant things I’ve seen all year, and it’s been a very good year for Sydney theatre.
Gareth Davies, Marco Chiappi, Josh Price, Amber McMahon & Matilda Ridgway. Photo: Brett Boardman. Mikhail Bulgakov’s novel tells the story of The Master (Mark Leonard Winter), a writer whose work has been deemed subversive and banned. His latest work, a retelling of the story of Jesus and Pontius Pilate, stays hidden in journals. When the Master is thrown in gaol, his lover Margarita (Anna Samson) goes to supernatural lengths to get his release. Meanwhile, in 1930s Moscow, the Devil (Paula Arundell) is having fun with Stalinist atheists…
Director Eamon Flack and the company of actors have taken to the text with a simple mantra, “Don’t be boring” and bring a substantial cache of showmanship to this decidedly meta adaptation. Every trick in the book, and I often mean a literal book, is used to keep you entertained and the story moving along at a brisk clip. There is a lavish amount of nudity, which never feels unwarranted in context.
Marco Chiappi & Josh Price. Photo: Brett Boardman. The Master & Margarita is often more circus, magic show and cabaret than traditional theatre, but then there is little ‘traditional’ about this play. There is no fourth wall. As the room laughed at a line about “the housing situation” the cast are quick to point out it’s not a modern addition, but part of the original text. When the characters launch into a not-so-subtle critique of wealth they take full aim at the audience before them. I spent a good part of the running time slack jawed, in awe of what this cast was doing and the audacity and irreverence they displayed.
The company introduces a third narrative, that of writer Bulgakov’s own life, to the stage making the novel’s subtext of repression shockingly overt. This is where the play really sunk its teeth into me. For all the entertaining mania on stage, the production never loses sight of its story, of the reality and the impact it has.
The Company of The Master & Margarita. Photo: Brett Boardman. After three hours, the play does slightly suffer from Return-of-the-King-itis – an ending that you see coming but seems to take far too long – but it never burns through the good will the show had stockpiled all the way through.
As we left, my English friend turned to me and said “That’s the kind of thing you’d see at the Royal Court or the Donmar. It should tour” and I couldn’t agree more. Send this over to London and New York… it’ll blow their minds!
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Oil (Sydney Theatre Co) ★★★★★
Written by Ella Hickson. Sydney Theatre Company. Nov 4 – Dec 16, 2023.
May, the heroine of Ella Hickson’s 2016 play Oil, is timeless. She is both a storytelling tool, an archetype that spans hundreds of years, and a mother doing her best for her daughter. But ‘doing her best’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘doing good’. If nothing else, Oil is about the cycles of our lives and the loops humanity finds itself stuck in.
Hickson gives a biography of the petroleum trade, from its introduction in the 19th century to a speculative future after we have exhausted the fuel. Millions of years in the making, humanity manages to squander it in mere centuries. This history is anchored by May (a brilliant Brooke Satchwell) and her daughter Amy (Charlotte Friels). Starting in Cornwall, England in 1889, the play travels to turn of the century Tehran, 1970’s London, near future Baghdad and back to Cornwall in the middle of the 21st Century. In each period, mother and daughter fight over their visions of the future and their place in it.
Violette Ayad and Brooke Satchwell. Photo: Prudence Upton. May evolves from curious, beaten-down housewife, to ambitious, grafting maid, to CEO of a global petrol-chemical company and beyond, rising and falling with the fortunes of the oil industry. At every step she is striving for her own power and independence, and trying to raise her daughter to have more and be better than she was. Here is where fossil fuels meet ossified opinions. While May is a hard-working survivor, Amy is a child of relative security, with a worldview at odds with her mothers. For May, oil is a saviour, but Amy sees the destruction wrought.
Charlotte Friels. Photo: Prudence Upton. There is a definite air of ‘2016’ to the play. Imagining the state of the world in the lead up to the dual nationalistic earthquakes of Brexit and Trump, there is a sharp edge to the discussion of Britain’s fading global power and the impact of vampiric colonialism. May’s arguments of how the oil industry has given education and ‘civilisation’ to other nations reeks of the same self-defensive denial and dream of lost glories that drove the nation to self-immolation.
Satchwell is revelatory as May. Her first stage role in 13 years proves she is up there with our best performers. While she’s been giving us lighter, friendlier fare on screen for decades, her recent turn to serious drama is reaping rewards. She instantly brought to mind UK actress Billie Piper, both for the power of her performance and her ascendance to acting acclaim. My Christmas wish to all our theatres is “cast Brooke Satchwell please”!
Damien Strouthos, Saif Alawadi and Brooke Satchwell. Photo: Prudence Upton. At two and half hours long, full of some dense, combative material, Oil is not for those seeking a light-hearted night at the theatre. Comparisons to the work of Caryl Churchill are apt. Hickson messes around with form to give us stories suited to the theatre and not the screen. The result is transcendent and meaty. You won’t be sitting back and relaxing, you’ll be leaning in to see what’s coming next.
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Sibyl (Sydney Opera House) ★★★★
Conceived by William Kentridge. Composed by Kyle Shepherd & Nhlanhla Mahlangu. Sydney Opera House. Nov 2-4, 2023.
South African, multidisciplinary artist William Kentridge has an eye-opening Australian premiere to close out the Sydney Opera Houses’s 50th birthday celebrations. Sibyl demonstrates Kentridges “Gesamtkunstwerk”, his blend of forms to deliver a message. Encompassing hand-drawn animation, dance, song, shadow-play, physical comedy, sculpture and more, it is revelatory and truly expansive.
The Moment Has Gone. Photo: David Boon. The performance begins with a short film, The Moment Has Gone, showing Kentridge’s animation style. His use of charcoal to gradually create a single image while telling a story, is fascinating. When combined with his humour as a storyteller, you start to see the mind of the artist at work. Woven into this animation are short phrases, some portentous, some silly or banal. The film is accompanied by a live score by Kyle Shepherd on piano featuring an all-male South African chorus led by Nhlanhla Mahlangu providing an organic and live aspect to the prerecorded work.
Waiting for the Sibyl. Photo: David Boon. Following that is a chamber opera Waiting for the Sibyl, sung in four Bantu languages. It explores the idea of the ancient Greek oracles and prophetesses of mythology across a number of songs, each staged individually. The tale of the Cumaean Sibyl, giving prophecies of the future on oak leaves, only for them to be scattered without order by the winds, making them impossible to decipher, is interpreted over six songs.
Waiting for the Sibyl. Photo: David Boon. Combined with projections, hand-painted backdrop, and music composed by Nhlanhla Mahlangu and Kyle Shepherd, the phrases from the film become prophecies with the pages coming alive, through song, dance and animation. Somehow they start as magical elements, and become more mundane as the show progresses. A commentary on how contemporary life has made the miraculous merely commonplace.
In the end it is not the message that resonates but the medium itself (I tip my hat to Marshall McLuhan). The cross-disciplinary use of art styles itself frees the artists from linear interpretations, like an oracle crosses time. The future is irrelevant when our focus is in the here and now, watching the stage, immersed in spectacle and song.
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The Dictionary of Lost Words (Sydney Theatre Co) ★★★
Adapted by Verity Laughton from the novel by Pip Williams. Sydney Theatre Company. 26 Oct – 16 Dec, 2023.
Words and language are powerful signifiers of what we consider to be important. While in the internet age words are easy to disseminate (like one guy spouting his opinions about theatre for example), the history of how we organise and communicate information and the decisions made along the way, is a thorny one. The ‘primacy of print’ forms the setting for Verity Laughton’s translation of Pip Williams’ beloved book, The Dictionary of Lost Words, and in doing so it highlights the strong difference between novels and plays.
Brett Archer, Chris Pitman & Angela Mahlatjie. Photo: Daniel Boud. Esme Nichols’ world is surrounded by words. Her father is working in “the scrippy”, the scriptorium where he and other academics are collating the English language into a dictionary. It is a gargantuan task; codifying, defining and illustrating an entire lexicon. As a child she watches as they debate, and sometimes discard, words. It’s these “lost words” that intrigue her the most and Esme (a vivacious Tilda Cobham-Hervey) starts her own project, to save and collect the words no one else cares about.
As a young woman, Esme starts to understand the forces behind which words are saved and exalted and which are cast off. If a word must be in print before it can be recorded in the dictionary, then who decides what is printed in the first place? If women’s books aren’t printed, how are their words to be included? Are women’s words less important than those of men? And so begins Esme’s journey into womanhood, as she seeks out words the men are ignoring at the turn of the 19th Century just as women’s suffrage is gaining steam, and the forces that would erupt into World War are brewing.
Tilda Cobham-Hervey & Rachel Burke. Photo: Daniel Boud. My first thought, as I entered the Sydney Opera House’s Drama Theatre, was “I want those bookshelves”. The set by Jonathon Oxlade is a long wall of square shelving illuminated from behind. It gives off a calming, clean Scandinavian tone. In front of it stand more era-appropriate desks of darker wood on top of which, we soon discover, is a clever video set up allowing us to see what is on the desk. Here they project images and text onto the back wall of the set. Mainly used to mark scene transitions, this video work gives the play an extra layer of dynamism which is effective when it’s not being overused.
The relatively sparse stage is filled with excellent performances. Ksenja Logos shines in various roles, but especially as the toothless, former sex-worker Mabel with a fruity vocabulary that opens Esme’s eyes. Rachel Burke excels as Esme’s long-suffering, illiterate maid Lizzy, who provides a level of heart to balance Esme’s cerebral pursuits. Raj Labade brings an innocent charm to the role of Gareth, a young man working at the printing press.
Tilda Cobham-Hervey & Raj Labade. Photo: Daniel Boud. It’s in the community of women that the play finds its footing. Esme’s head is filled with knowledge but she is ignorant of her own biology, and it’s through her relationships with her female friends, mentors, strangers and even servants that she fully develops. It is the women around her who challenge her worldview and push her forward.
Angela Mahlatjie, Tilda Cobham-Hervey & Rachel Burke. Photo: Daniel Boud. For all the inventive stage-craft and fine acting however, The Dictionary of Lost Words can’t escape its unwieldy plotlessness. The sweeping scope of the novel works on the page, but less so on the stage as events unfold with no real narrative drive. Opening scenes are filled with exposition that proves to be of little impact to the wider story.
At three hours long, the impact of The Dictionary of Lost Words is sadly dissipated. Key relationships are lost across the span of time making for an ending that aims for poignancy but falls flat. This is the novel edited and translated to stage, rather than being adapted to a different form of storytelling. Fans will enjoy the details, but patrons approaching it for the first time may find it a harder sell.
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The Memory of Water (Ensemble) ★★★★
Written by Shelagh Stephenson. Ensemble Theatre. 20 Oct – 25 Nov, 2023.
The premise of Shelagh Stephenson’s The Memory of Water sounds like the set up to a farce. After the death of their mother Violet (Nicole Da Silva), three sisters converge on the family home for the funeral. They each deal with their grief in different ways. One hits the drugs, one is desperate for a shag, and one contemplates her own life and the choices she’s made. It’s a comedy that’ll make you cry.
The title comes from the concept that pure water retains a ‘memory’ of the substances that have been dissolved in it. It’s an idea one character instantly dismisses as nonsense. But as physical water assails the family home (from freezing snow, to the encroaching waves on the shore, and the lack of hot water for the bathtub), it is the memories of their mother that cause the most damage.
Michala Banas, Jo Downing & Madeleine Jones. Photo: Prudence Upton. Teresa (Jo Dowling) nursed their mother through her Alzheimer’s disease, watching her memory fade. Mary (Michala Banas) blames their mother for sticking up for their absent father and teaching them the wrong life lessons. And the youngest, Catherine (Madeleine Jones), is convinced their mother hated her and has memories of abuses that may or may not have actually happened. Memory is a tricky, unreliable thing. What if their mother was none of those things?
Set entirely in Violet’s bedroom, the ghost of their late mother is everywhere, from the bright coloured decor (a frighteningly realistic set by Veronique Benett) to the closet full of outdated dresses. In her grief, Mary starts to have conversations with Violet as she remembers her from her childhood, in 60s make-up and clothing.
Nicole Da Silva & Michala Banas. Photo: Prudence Upton. Stephenson’s grasp of these characters and their dynamics is masterly. The three sisters have a real sense of organic history and weariness to them. Teresa and Mary have little time for Catherine’s extra dramas. Mary’s academic career is the cause of friction between herself and Teresa. The way they speak to one another gives us backstory without resorting to too much blatant exposition. Stephenson manages to weave in storylines with a pleasant subtlety that develops with ease till it reaches its climax. The humour comes from the foibles of people under pressure and it works, not because we laugh at the characters, but because we’re laughing at ourselves.
Michala Banas, Jo Downing & Johnny Nasser. Photo: Prudence Upton. The whole play rests on the three actresses playing the core trio and Dowling, Banas and Jones are just brilliant. Over the course of the 2.5hrs they grieve, laugh, get drunk and rage at each other. Jones particularly stood out to me as Catherine, a self-obsessed, train-wreck of a young woman who is desperate to be loved (to be clear that sentence relates to the character, not the actress). Rachel Chant’s direction is strong, giving the play a good rhythm. The final image of the first act is what really hooked me in.
Madeleine Jones & Michala Banas. Photo: Prudence Upton. The Memory of Water may be 27 years old now, but the script is still sharp in its observations, and with this cast it flows perfectly. While it’s funny, you leave the theatre with a sense of melancholy and the hint of positive change. This is another strong show from Ensemble, who have had a good year all round, which makes me more excited for what they’re bringing in 2024.
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Cultural Binge - Independent Theatre Reviews 