Cat on a Hot Tin Roof by Tennessee Williams. Canberra Repertory Theatre directed by Walter Learning. Theatre 3 April 27-May 19.
"This is my soft birthday. Not my gold birthday, nor my silver birthday, but my soft birthday..." says Big Daddy, knowing, but not knowing, that cancer is undermining his 65 year old body. Phil Mackenzie created a softer more empathetic character than is usual in this now classic 1955 play. The theme, against mendacity and for facing the difficult truth - the only way human understanding and tolerance can grow - became clear in this production.
Learning's direction was tight, in an excellent set by Russell Brown, including Big Mama's crass iconographic purchases from her trip to Europe. Lighting was unobtrusive and therefore effective. So all the makings of a good production were there.
However this was not gold or silver, not as hot as the Memphis cat that Tennessee Williams wrote: a workmanlike production, finally, because the cast, though a good selection, could not involve us in the full complexity of these characters' illusions. Mackenzie and Duncan Ley (the drunkard son Brick) showed their strength, lifting Act 2 through their long duet; Janie Lawson as the Cat (Maggie) got the story through, but never the depth of desperation driving her character's sexuality - and so the first Act took too long to get moving - but there were effective moments of reflection, when we could really wonder if Maggie understood how self-destructive was her need to reclaim Brick's attention.
Other characters were neatly cut out, and therefore a bit cardboardy, though Ian Croker (Brick's lawyer brother Gooper) and Jenny Ongley-Houston (his avaricious wife Mae) showed some spark in vicious lines from the side of the mouth in Act 3. Big Mama (Anne Joyce) I found disappointing - the right elements of feeling were there, but not elemental enough. And the "no-neck" children were awful, exactly as they should have been. "Happy Birthday Big Daddy - we love you" was excellent.
Rep is aiming high this season. Though we can't expect the standards of fully professional trained actors, it is good to revisit classic Tennessee Williams even in a softer focus. Mendacity and avarice, after all, are still with us.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Saturday 28 April 2001
Thursday 19 April 2001
2001: Australian National Playwrights' Conference - Drama Teachers Studio
Drama Teachers Studio, directed by Timothy Daly. Australian National Playwrights' Conference (ANPC), Burgmann College ANU April 18-21.
"He's brilliant" whispered Robert Schneider, as I sat next to him on Day 2 of the Drama Teachers Studio. After an hour, it was an accolade for Timothy Daly I could not deny. If only I had had this detailed professional play-writing training available when I was teaching drama.
At last I was hearing not the old purely literary analysis of plays, which according to the 9 drama teachers from NSW, Tasmania and South Australia is still too common, but how "exposition" means "you make clear the status quo" as the play opens - in words, or in mime; and then you create a "disturbance!", and so you begin the "major action/problem/dilemma". And then you "complicate" the action with a "new action/new decisions/new reactions" and create a change of direction, until a "turning point" (for good or ill) is reached, and there are three climaxes: for the narrative, for the characters internally, and for the meaning.
So the denouement, which I always thought was the slack bit after the climax to get to the end as quick as possible, becomes the key to dramatic meaning: how it ends makes all the difference. And how my short experience with Daly ended made the point, as teachers performed the short scripts they had written on Day 1. I saw all comedies, but no tragedies here: cleverly crafted pieces already, and 2 more days to go.
Daly's teaching was itself a model for these teachers. By experiencing the role of students in such a creative, intensive class, Schneider (St Aloysius' College, Sydney), Elizabeth Surbey (Sydney Girls' High), Stephen Goldrick (St Andrews Cathedral School, Sydney), James Fischer (St Paul's College, Walla Walla NSW), Victoria Lewis (Killara High, Sydney), Melinda Boston (Norwood Moriatta High, Adelaide), Kris Plummer (Bankstown Grammar, Sydney), Julie Waddington (Kingston High, Tasmania) and Lesley Christen (Santa Sabina College, Strathfield, Sydney) were sure that they could take back, and put into practice, the writing skills Daly had to offer.
These 9, some with partial support and some entirely self-funded, are surely the vanguard, flying the flag for the generation of drama teachers who can no longer be seen as self-indulgently playing games. Their creativity in the classroom is now being recognised and professionally developed at the ANPC, the theatre industry's fermentation plant.
Now that the opportunity is there, it's time for education, especially government departments (look at the schools represented this year), to take the ANPC on board. And may I say, especially in Canberra.
It was Julie Waddington who voiced on behalf of everyone in the Drama Teachers Studio how important it is, rather than being a teacher who is an artist on the side, "to be valued as an artist who teaches".
© Frank McKone, Canberra
"He's brilliant" whispered Robert Schneider, as I sat next to him on Day 2 of the Drama Teachers Studio. After an hour, it was an accolade for Timothy Daly I could not deny. If only I had had this detailed professional play-writing training available when I was teaching drama.
At last I was hearing not the old purely literary analysis of plays, which according to the 9 drama teachers from NSW, Tasmania and South Australia is still too common, but how "exposition" means "you make clear the status quo" as the play opens - in words, or in mime; and then you create a "disturbance!", and so you begin the "major action/problem/dilemma". And then you "complicate" the action with a "new action/new decisions/new reactions" and create a change of direction, until a "turning point" (for good or ill) is reached, and there are three climaxes: for the narrative, for the characters internally, and for the meaning.
So the denouement, which I always thought was the slack bit after the climax to get to the end as quick as possible, becomes the key to dramatic meaning: how it ends makes all the difference. And how my short experience with Daly ended made the point, as teachers performed the short scripts they had written on Day 1. I saw all comedies, but no tragedies here: cleverly crafted pieces already, and 2 more days to go.
Daly's teaching was itself a model for these teachers. By experiencing the role of students in such a creative, intensive class, Schneider (St Aloysius' College, Sydney), Elizabeth Surbey (Sydney Girls' High), Stephen Goldrick (St Andrews Cathedral School, Sydney), James Fischer (St Paul's College, Walla Walla NSW), Victoria Lewis (Killara High, Sydney), Melinda Boston (Norwood Moriatta High, Adelaide), Kris Plummer (Bankstown Grammar, Sydney), Julie Waddington (Kingston High, Tasmania) and Lesley Christen (Santa Sabina College, Strathfield, Sydney) were sure that they could take back, and put into practice, the writing skills Daly had to offer.
These 9, some with partial support and some entirely self-funded, are surely the vanguard, flying the flag for the generation of drama teachers who can no longer be seen as self-indulgently playing games. Their creativity in the classroom is now being recognised and professionally developed at the ANPC, the theatre industry's fermentation plant.
Now that the opportunity is there, it's time for education, especially government departments (look at the schools represented this year), to take the ANPC on board. And may I say, especially in Canberra.
It was Julie Waddington who voiced on behalf of everyone in the Drama Teachers Studio how important it is, rather than being a teacher who is an artist on the side, "to be valued as an artist who teaches".
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Friday 6 April 2001
2001: Lord of the Rocks, a musical by John O'Neil
Lord of the Rocks, a musical by John O'Neil. Tempo Theatre directed by Michael Weston. Belconnen Community Centre April 4-7.
I feared that some Federation celebrations would be embarrassing - and so it was.
I have not previously heard of John O'Neil. This spurious story of The Rocks in Sydney Town when Macquarie arrives to save the colony from injustice is so childish that I wouldn't let a child near it. John Howard would be proud: not one black armband among the happy band of Britishers. The final puke came when Macquarie announced that in future people would all be mates in the commercial centre of the world surrounded by a wide brown land and the whole cast sang Advance Australia Fair. Seriously!
After the worst choice of script came the worst performance. I can only praise the band Jeff Burns (bass), Ben Tyrell (drums) and especially Lachlan Cotter on keyboard. Without their stirling effort, keeping strict time and tuning, the show would have fallen completely apart, since the only actors who could sing in tune were Jon Elphick and Leah Wheelhouse - and only Leah could act as well. The description of one actor in the program as "quite good at voice contortion which is more a personality trait than a skill" says it all. If only it had been ironic!
From a deadly static opening, with leads who had almost no stage presence, the brightest spot in the show - though dim by any other amateur standards - was the knockabout Rum Corps. At last O'Neil broke just a smidgin out of gawky sentimentality with an almost G&S-esque song and dance. But the slapstick didn't last long, and goo covered the stage, getting thicker, and thicker until I felt thick.
I'm sorry to be so critical of an amateur group presumably enjoying themselves, but Holt Primary School did Joseph's Dreamcoat streets better than this 20 years ago. Tempo itself has done far better in the past; and we had a couple of very presentable musicals from Phoenix Players recently as well classy stuff from Supa Productions.
If we are going to celebrate Federation, let's at least do it in style (and maybe even mention an indigine or three).
© Frank McKone, Canberra
I feared that some Federation celebrations would be embarrassing - and so it was.
I have not previously heard of John O'Neil. This spurious story of The Rocks in Sydney Town when Macquarie arrives to save the colony from injustice is so childish that I wouldn't let a child near it. John Howard would be proud: not one black armband among the happy band of Britishers. The final puke came when Macquarie announced that in future people would all be mates in the commercial centre of the world surrounded by a wide brown land and the whole cast sang Advance Australia Fair. Seriously!
After the worst choice of script came the worst performance. I can only praise the band Jeff Burns (bass), Ben Tyrell (drums) and especially Lachlan Cotter on keyboard. Without their stirling effort, keeping strict time and tuning, the show would have fallen completely apart, since the only actors who could sing in tune were Jon Elphick and Leah Wheelhouse - and only Leah could act as well. The description of one actor in the program as "quite good at voice contortion which is more a personality trait than a skill" says it all. If only it had been ironic!
From a deadly static opening, with leads who had almost no stage presence, the brightest spot in the show - though dim by any other amateur standards - was the knockabout Rum Corps. At last O'Neil broke just a smidgin out of gawky sentimentality with an almost G&S-esque song and dance. But the slapstick didn't last long, and goo covered the stage, getting thicker, and thicker until I felt thick.
I'm sorry to be so critical of an amateur group presumably enjoying themselves, but Holt Primary School did Joseph's Dreamcoat streets better than this 20 years ago. Tempo itself has done far better in the past; and we had a couple of very presentable musicals from Phoenix Players recently as well classy stuff from Supa Productions.
If we are going to celebrate Federation, let's at least do it in style (and maybe even mention an indigine or three).
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Thursday 5 April 2001
2001: How Big's Yours - Group Devised by Canberra Youth Theatre
How Big's Yours. Group devised theatre of spectacle, directed by Scott Wright for Canberra Youth Theatre. Riggers and performance consultants: Karen Yaldren and Russell Wright, courtesy of Spinifex Circus. Civic Youth Centre and surrounds, April 5-7.
Self-expression for young men - outside the traditional framework of sport - is problematic. For many, options like theatre and dance are "effeminate", despite the physical nature of stage performance. Scott Wright, from erth in Sydney, offers a blend of real physical risk with performing in roles, devised by the 14 young men of CYT to make statements about their experiences of "What makes a man a man?"
I'm going to trust the riggers and performance consultants about the safety of the acts, though I had my doubts about the belaying used for the most spectacular piece, a race up a 9-storey wall, using rope work similar to that at the Sydney Opera House at New Year 2000. It was also reported to me that the racing go-karts were close to being run down by the rapidly reversing 4 wheel drive in the first scene at the skate park on opening night.
I would not normally take a critical stance towards a young people's workshop theatre piece, but the very large-scale public nature of How Big's Yours gives it exposure. I found the emphasis on young men in battle and simple physical competition, which provided the opportunity for much firestick twirling, fire breathing and acrobatic rope-and-harness activity, left me wondering about the rest of young men's experiences. Is there really no sensitivity in a youth's life apart from the skill of physical dominance?
Apart from the opening songs, only Hamlet's "To be, or not to be" backed by fire breathing, touched, though obliquely, on deeper issues like youth suicide. But, by merely representing young men's behaviour, too many scenes ended up apparently condoning the excitement of violence and risk taking rather than commenting critically on what has been a problem for most societies.
So despite the spectacular bits, How Big's Yours needed focus and a clearer message before I could say it was big enough.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
Self-expression for young men - outside the traditional framework of sport - is problematic. For many, options like theatre and dance are "effeminate", despite the physical nature of stage performance. Scott Wright, from erth in Sydney, offers a blend of real physical risk with performing in roles, devised by the 14 young men of CYT to make statements about their experiences of "What makes a man a man?"
I'm going to trust the riggers and performance consultants about the safety of the acts, though I had my doubts about the belaying used for the most spectacular piece, a race up a 9-storey wall, using rope work similar to that at the Sydney Opera House at New Year 2000. It was also reported to me that the racing go-karts were close to being run down by the rapidly reversing 4 wheel drive in the first scene at the skate park on opening night.
I would not normally take a critical stance towards a young people's workshop theatre piece, but the very large-scale public nature of How Big's Yours gives it exposure. I found the emphasis on young men in battle and simple physical competition, which provided the opportunity for much firestick twirling, fire breathing and acrobatic rope-and-harness activity, left me wondering about the rest of young men's experiences. Is there really no sensitivity in a youth's life apart from the skill of physical dominance?
Apart from the opening songs, only Hamlet's "To be, or not to be" backed by fire breathing, touched, though obliquely, on deeper issues like youth suicide. But, by merely representing young men's behaviour, too many scenes ended up apparently condoning the excitement of violence and risk taking rather than commenting critically on what has been a problem for most societies.
So despite the spectacular bits, How Big's Yours needed focus and a clearer message before I could say it was big enough.
© Frank McKone, Canberra
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