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After describing the plot of ‘When The Rain Stops Falling’ to someone who hadn’t seen it, I was asked how the time-shifts had held up on stage. The answer, in this case, is a little iffy. As far as staging goes, it was handled well, often with overlaps, but always with a clear understanding of where was when. Unfortunately, it wasn’t always clear who was who, and three quarters of the play is spent figuring out which character was which in each timeframe. A little more attention to plot clarity, and less on directorial clichés would have helped this production.
It’s hard to imagine four more different, yet strikingly similar, characters on stage than what you see in Yasmina Reza’s play, ‘God of Carnage’ about two couples meeting to discuss a violent altercation between their eleven year old sons. The cast of four is fantastic: Hugo Weaving as the smarmy, workaholic lawyer, Natasha Herbert as his nauseous wife; Pamela Rabe as the holier-than-thou political history writer; and Geoff Morrell as her husband who’s frankly sick of her s..t! It’s hilariously funny as the adult behaviour deteriorates and we wonder whether there’s any difference between kids and their parents.
The brass band’s on stage, the lingerie-clad women and tight-panted men start dancing, and then Caroline O’Connor and Sharon Millerchip sing. This is true musical theatre. The characters fit perfectly with Millerchip’s ‘Roxie’ seeming to take lessons from O’Connor’s ‘Velma’ in both show business sleaze and jazz vocals. The choreography and staging are simple but perfect for the show, and the relatively small chorus works twice as hard and easily fills the stage. There’s also pleasant surprises from Craig McLachlan as ‘Billy Flynn’ and Gina Riley as ‘Mama Morton’, both of whom you’d assume must have never left the stage.
Sets, costume, and most of the acting all seemed to be making the most of a script that was lacklustre at best. The play was never able to find itself. Dealing with a very complex issue, it managed to alternate between treating the material thoughtfully and Monty Python-esque irreverence. On the whole, the cast does well, let down slightly by Kate Atkinson’s fluctuating accent, and Pacharo Mzembe’s penchant for the overly dramatic. But it really is the on-stage visuals that keep you interested – couches shaped like smarties, lips or stretched leopards, match with jewelled boots, faux fur and poo-catcher pants.
It’s a bit of a chicken and egg conundrum as to whether this show appeals to so many people because it’s so funny, or whether it’s so funny because it appeals to almost everyone. Either way, it is laugh-out-loud funny for the whole time, and the story, themes, music and characters are instantly relatable. The live puppeteering, whilst noticeable at first, quickly feels completely natural to the show. This isn’t the kind of night out you’d take your conservative grandparents to, but I can’t imagine anyone with a sense of humour and open mind not enjoying Avenue Q.
“Magic isn’t real,” Simon tells us at the start of his show; “Think of it as live special effects.” He tells us he’s going to trick us; and he challenges us to catch him out – we can’t. It’s amazing to think that there are magicians this talented living among us. You’d think they’d have made all our watches disappear and changed all our $20 notes to $5s. Let’s just hope they’re all like Simon. His seamless blend of supreme illusion and quick witted patter makes this hour fly by, and the only thing I wish is that it was longer.
While Pinter’s play itself is still very relevant in today’s political environment (whether it be the Iranian election or Guantanamo Bay), it was unfortunate that this production simply wasn’t very good. Whether it was Director Julian Meyrick’s bland and overly literal approach to the dialogue, or Isaac Drandic’s ‘Stanley’ (which was played like a bad impression of Napoleon Dynamite); this take on the iconic script was a disappointment. Really, the only things holding it together was Marshall Napier’s eloquent reminiscences as ‘McCann’ and Gregory Fryer’s very brief performance as ‘Petey’ – I’m hoping to see more from him in the future.
With the stage set as an elaborate, sprawling, three-story family home, it’s hard not to be impressed with this show before the actors even walk out on stage. But then they do, and suddenly it’s clear that Simon Phillips has put forward one of MTC’s greatest ensemble pieces. Letts’ darkly comic family circus is instantly identifiable, and is given perfect place by the outstanding cast – especially Robyn Nevin displaying unwavering versatility as the acerbic, drug-addled matriarch. The only thing I’m unsure about is whether it’s too early to single out “August: Osage County” as MTC’s best play of the season.
In an atmosphere of regulation and fear, the only thing that can’t be controlled is the imagination. This seems to be the theme of Paul Galloway’s ‘Realism’, as a group of actors and writers discuss what can and can’t be said in Russia in 1939 when you’ve been commissioned to do a play for Starlin’s sixtieth birthday. There’s certainly laughs on stage (thanks largely to Grant Piro’s fantastic performance as ‘Dinsky’) but there’s also a genuine fear that one wrong word could mean being whisked off to the gulag. Plus, there are a few in-jokes here for the theatre crowd.
