Showing posts with label Brisbane Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brisbane Festival. Show all posts

Friday, December 18, 2015

Thoughts on I WANT TO KNOW WHAT LOVE IS [*]


How do you wipe tears away when your eyes are dry? I Want to Know What Love Is by The Goodroom is such a celebratory piece about romantic love there’s no reason to cry during it, despite running the gamut on everything known humanly possible when it comes to love. It has its ups and downs in terms of mood, and the many weird phases that love has, but if anyone that chalks it up to be a mere ‘hour of entertainment’ they're wrong. Unless you have no emotions, but then I'm also not sure you'd call it entertainment.

Can we start by immediately establishing how accessible the piece is? How great is it that everyone is going to look at this show through a different view? Some people having been in love for a long time, some just starting out, some ending. Work like this is essential because it's accessible for everyone. Everyone, not just the usual 40something crowd that come to theatre with their dinner jackets and their diamond monicals. Literally everyone - love is like a universal desire, and the fact that it's been jammed into a 60 minute theatre piece is a feat in itself. 

Look, me writing is pretty personal and more of a reason to vent than reflect on what a terrific show this is. The last time I saw this production was during the original incarnation during Brisbane Festival 2014. I was with my ex-boyfriend at the time, and unknown to me, we were on the cusp of breaking up. He broke it to me pretty soon after that he just wasn't feeling it so we had about two months later. We got back together but the same problem of not wanting to be tied down reared its head again, so this time I around I saw it without him, but he was in the same room seeing it with someone else. So, this time it's going through my first big breakup and I'm far more compelled to write about it now. Just a disclaimer. And also an update, if you used to read this blog for the personal updates (which I have since REMOVED). 

The structure of the show itself mirrors an ending relationship. There is actually the finale at the start - an, exuberant ineffable joy and declaration that live is alive and real. It is then yanked off stage by lost, moving through grief, coping, acceptance and then the unknown future. The four actors are just terrific and are extremely versatile, moving between vignettes and moments of over 800 real-life submissions on what people perceive what love is. It seems so simple but it's utterly genius. How has this not been done before (*prior to 2014) and how has the world not seen this show yet? Hopefully it will.

Right now, when I think about my ex my blood boils to the point where if you slit my throat open, you would be thrown on your back and your flesh would burn off (I think I'm in the coping faze?). It’s amusing to be reminded that pain, joy and sorrow felt while you’re in ‘love’ (and post) aren’t unique. You’re not special or particularly interesting, and what I really like about this show is that the reassurance that seems to echo everyone's life. We all go through your friends/parents/colleagues saying “We all hated him/her”, “You can do better”, “I’m hotter anyway”. Then also the promises you make in the ENDLESS conversations that you're obliged to have about it with everyone. "I'm fine" "I've got space for me" "Everything is going okay". I've never seen a show packed with so much emotional truth within the text because these are ACTUAL human reactions. I can't comment on the actors experience with love but some seem to grasp it a little better than others - but that's not even a flaw, since the nature of the piece is that perceptions of love are organic and change over time. Lovely.

I suppose I'll be pretty much the only one to point out the design of the show is just gorgeous. Kieran Swan has created this luscious Garden of Eden battle arena where thousands of petals descend the stage admits a forest of pull-down banners of posters which echo different sentiments of love. Lawrence English is an absolute revelation and is too good for Brisbane'd sound design community for theatre - probably why we only get to see works from him like one a year. The music of appropriately thunderous or soft whenever it's needed and it really assists in helping out where you stand on a certain viewpoint of love. I've said it like a thousand times for all the thousands of shows that Jason Glenright has lit, but you couldn't ask for more appropriate and seamless lighting. Chumps will cluck their tongues and complain about lighting states being reused all over the place, but there's only so many types of lights in one rig. It's a marvellous marriage of elements and nothing could've been done better. 

The piece is really important since its smoulders with truth and such emotional honesty. The feeling of community that you feel watching the piece - the comfort that people have been where you are, or have been, or even where you're going to be. It's at once therapeutic, exciting and sad, but overwhelmingly celebratory.


I really wanted to buy a ticket and just throw it into the wilderness so someone could enjoy that but for some fucking reason I went to CANBERRA - THE CITY OF DREAMS last weekend so I literally don't have enough to buy one. So, in my failure of that, I'd recommend make the effort to clear your calendar (probably don’t set someone up and dump them within the same sentence - that would make you a massive cunt - also, what is the point?), and try to get along to see I Want to Know What Love Is. It finishes this Saturday and then who knows when you'll be able to catch it next? When you're next in LOVE? HAHAHAHAHAHA. 

Tickets for The Good Room's I Want to Know What Love Is are $33 - $39 (not including Booking Fee), and is showing at Brisbane Powerhouse until 19 December. Duration of approximately 1 hour. Book by visiting Brisbane Powerhouse's website.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Tender Napalm - Suddenly Awesome [*]

Despite being excellent in all aspects and a solid piece of theatre, I didn't think much of Tender Napalm for the first twenty minutes or so since it didn't make me feel anything - perhaps it's because it takes a while to get into how the language of the text. But suddenly something just makes you like it.

Bailey looking buff and Phelen looking like Barack Obama -
thankfully they're adorable in real life (Source: La Boite).
Presented by both the Brisbane Festival and La Boite, David Berthold's staging of the production is replete with Garry Stewart's fluid choreography. The stories of Tender Napalm are told through a man and a woman who are in a state of grief. To escape their reality, they reminisce on their past and invent fantasies which involve unicorns, sea serpents and monkeys who have the ability to make conscious and coherent decisions on allegiances. It's a really well constructed script where multiple narratives, some deeply personal others ridiculously fantastical, run simultaneously to an ultimate revelation in a text thats replete with motifs of words, objects and ideas.

To describe the two actors simply, they're beautiful. Every line is accompanied by a decisive and emotional movement which is packed with energy. Garry Stewart's choreography incredibly really helps create an unusual performance which the pair bring to life through their enthusiasm. Despite looking like Barack Obama on the promotional artwork, Kurt Phelan is delightful to watch, his characterization being very animated and pretty adorable. Ellen Bailey's portrayal seems perplexing and is initially restrained and distant until a split second at the end where she breaks and you glimpse the most harrowing expression of agony. Prior to this the portrayal feels very individualized, but then this moment pops up and the entire performance suddenly makes a bargain with your brain and it all makes sense. Their chemistry seems to be a bit lacking, but like all the aspects in the show, it takes a while for us to buy into what they're doing. They're both really endearing though, and the party scene was perfect (although it feels like there need to be more pauses).
The perfect moment. I love anguish.
(Source: La Boite Facebook).

The technical aspects are pretty minimal because the action revolves entirely around the words of the characters. The lighting can't do much except illuminate Justin Nardella's daunting but gorgeous stage. The stage is clean with chain grids over exits which seems to evoke confrontation although there didn't seem to be a correlation between how it impacted the narrative. Steve Toulmin greets you into the theatre with this awesome piece comprised of percussive beats and sampling it sounds like something straight out of The Banquet - loved it. I wanted more music, but it was really difficult to see where it could have been without pandering the audience.

If you have any reservations, something about this play just makes you like it and it's suddenly awesome. Although they're not the best combination I've seen on stage, there are two very dedicated, talented and entertaining performers on stage. The text is really clever and sophisticated and the tech is just enough and exactly what it needs to be. I think this would really appeal to lovers of theatre with movement, and is the best thing I've seen in the Brisbane Festival. A solid 5 ½ out of 7.

Tickets for Brisbane Festival and La Boite's Tender Napalm are $220-$54, and is showing at La Boite Theatre Company's Roadhouse Theater until October 13th. Duration of approximately 80 minutes. Book by visiting La Boite's website.

Monday, September 24, 2012

After All This, Unsure What to Think

(Source: QTIX)
If you're studying Performance Innovation, this article will not help your assignment. Try fragmented narratives, though.

Brought up from an acclaimed season in Melbourne, another installation of Brisbane Festival's Under the Radar is Elbow Room's After All This. It's a puzzling examination of the afterlife composed of three different scenarios: two children talking about an up-coming nativity production, a disillusioned mathematician struggling with faith, and the ritual suicide of a charming cult.  While they seem to be unrelated in narrative, they share the through line of discussing the afterlife.

The beginning is endearing and touching, focusing on two children who know too much about death and religion already too early in their lives, before we're introduced to the second segment which is absolutely baffling. It features a scientist and a mathematician examining the audience before Kathryn Marquet jumps out of the audience asking for money like Eliza Doolittle, who then converts into a well spoken religious figure. The final part involves a chorus of enthusiastic cultists who explain their plans of ascension to whatever lies after death. Who knows - maybe they've got it right and we're the crazy ones? It was so fast paced that I couldn't reflect during and after I wasn't really sure what I had seen.

With a chorus of artists including Emily Tomlins and Angus Grant there are a few solid performances, but there is so much guessing on what is actually going on throughout the scenarios it's pretty difficult to connect with any of the characters. However, the cultist segment was very entertaining and everyone delivers an eerie but entertaining performance.

Apparently Steve Toulmin did sound design but I can't remember any sound at all with the exception of a song at the close of the show. Kris Chainey's lighting was pretty non-descript too, some nice washes and a few LEDs but not much else going on.

The most thought provoking moment was actually during that wild second segment - the scientist points out that everyone considers themselves to be important, despite them being no different to other people. I've always pondered this because surely everyone thinks they are the centre of the universe at some point . . . really glad someone finally discussed this in some form, although as soon as the idea was presented it was gone.

The piece left me a little dazed. I wasn't sure what to comment on after it as finished, and I wasn't really sure what had happened. It has some solid performances and interesting ideas, however they're not discussed at great length or depth. But everyone else loved it and it's finished now, so that's that!

After All This showed as part of the Brisbane Festival's Under the Radar at Brisbane Powerhouse until September 21. Duration of 60 minutes, no interval.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Thoughts on the Things I'd Say To You

Source: QTIX
In the oven Warehouse of MetroArts, Fixate Productions are occupying the space with a little piece in Brisbane Festival's Under the Radar. Based on personal experiences, The Things I'd Say To You is a reflection on the process of loss and grief. In a surreal world in between denial and acceptance, characters ponder their ineffable feelings and situations, and consider the possibilities of what could have been.

The two actors, Kitty Gatling and Ilsa Wynne-Hoelscher, are very sweet in their roles. Their performance is very effective and suitable to the show - they're touching, animated, and appropriately bizarre. The only problem encountered is that the text is so heavy and personal it felt like they couldn't/didn't fully connect to the content. The text itself is also problematic to the audience - there are a collection of mundane topics which gradually reveal their personal importance to characters once they're discussed. However they don't seem to provide a satisfying explanation of their importance to the audience, and it doesn't seem they go deep enough for us to feel empathetically. For example, there is a reoccurring discussion with pancakes and their scent, and although I could sort of guess what was going on there with the loved one making pancakes, there needed to be further explanation. It is an engaging script which does have its moments of comedy, and the interactions of the two characters are adorable (Gatling's throw away comments while doing the laundry are particularly amusing).

As the piece aims to be surreal and reflective, it's pretty hazy what is actually going on in terms of narrative. One character constantly refers to the other as 'Mirror' and the other doesn't seem to get a name (I think it was said once, but I missed it). I didn't really enjoy the show because of the circumstances I saw it in. Unfortunately I sat in the third row, so I only saw about 40% of the show - the rest of the time all I was trying to navigate around the fabulous mop of red-hair in front of me and I never got a glimpse of the stand in its full glory. There was a lot of action on the floor that I missed, and the pacing of the piece didn't help.  For some reason a bunch of people, what sounded like a fucking high-heels convention, plodded past in the corridor next to us about 10 minutes into the show, obliterating the charm and intimacy of the room.

The show is minimalist on its technical aspects, but it's appropriate for the nature of the show. Hanna Sandgren's set is simplistic and lovely. It is utilised well by the performers who travel between the wings, and drapes material all over them which was a nice contrast. There were some simple washes in the lighting but nothing really special, and there is only one song used in the show which occurs during movement pieces. Projection is also used in a few instances including some kind of dye technique, but I have no idea what the desired effect was.

The piece is a great work for the emerging company and will hopefully have a sell-out season, and hopefully gets reworked to add a bit more clarity to its text. The Things I'd Say To You isn't the most compelling and dramatic work I've seen, but it is honest and genuine, and seeing the reactions of other audience members it has the beautiful potential to speak and bring solace to so many people who have experienced loss.

Tickets for Fixate Production's The Things I'd Say To You are $15-$20, and is showing as part of the Brisbane Festival's Under the Radar at MetroArts until September 22. Duration of 40 minutes, no interval. Book by visiting Fixate Production's website.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Brisbane Festival - Steampowered


Being a Cirque du Soleil aficionado, I thought it was about time I gave other circuses a go. I saw Circus Oz's Steampowered last night at QPAC, and I thought it was pretty decent. The very talented troupe perform a plethora of acts with their multi-disciplinary skills which are fantastic, but I couldn't get into the show because of the music, design, and the frequent comedy.

Since it's a circus, it makes the most sense to look at the acts first. The disciples on display were worldclass quality, and it was utterly inspiring to see that the troupe were so talented in handling dozens of feats. The best acts were the hola-hoops, static trapeze of two performers, a duo trapeze with two women with the emcee telling us some facts which felt like feminist propaganda, and Chinese pole which I assume represented cogs in an engine. I enjoyed most of the acts, but even the best of them had their flow interrupted too often by comedy. I can appreciate the necessity of comedy in a family-oriented show, but in some cases it was really jarring and I just wanted them to get on with it. My favourite was the static trapeze, a lovely intimate act that was accompanied by a really witty song, and had just the right balance of comedy and skill to begin with. Over the course of the act the male trapeze artist develops a ripped seam in his pants, which unfortunately led to the troupe making a huge deal out of it, stopping the act, and provoking this really inane humour to force on us. Likewise, there was a great hola-hoops act which was interrupted far to often, so the artist would look either bewildered, or offer an audience member some flowers - I thought the design was clever but the execution too way too long for the sake of comedy. She comes back in the second act and manages to spin with around 7 hoops which was great, but that was a huge buildup you have to get through to enjoy the acts. In a stroke of misfortune, plenty of the acts that were complied were among some of my least favourite (rolabola, artistic bicycle) so that didn't help much. The troupe clearly have talented but it seemed like they could have improved without so much comedy.

The comedy when not interrupting acts was really funny. The opening of the second act involved the emcee walking around the stage bemoaning how the power was gone and how we would be stuck together, but then cheerfully painted an image of a post-apocalyptic world going on outside while we were safe watching the group. That was followed by a REALLY clever acro-sport act where they portrayed the political climate in Australia. It was simply perfect. Besides the emcee there were two women, one who presented shpeels on safety and the other, 'Fantasia Fitness' a narcissistic promoter of her own material whose various mishaps end with an awkward silence followed by '...I meant to do that'. Really clever stuff.

What originally attracted me to see Circus Oz was the appeal that Steampowered had a distinct influence of steampunk, a beautiful pseudo-Victorian fantasy style which has me fascinated. Cirque have utilised steampunk in a few of their shows (Zed, Zarkana), and the result has been beautiful. Of course it's not fair for me to compare Circus Oz to Cirque du Soleil, but it's inevitable - Circus Oz had some nice features on stage, but aethestics in steampunk are everything, and I found that the design was too sporadic. I wanted the stage stuffed with clocks and gears, when in reality the backstage was occupied by a fantastic drumkit, but then grates on the wall with projections of gears. Basically I just expected too much of the design, so it's no one's fault except for mine.

Music was too loud and a bit too rhythmic, and in sucession a bit too tuneless, for me to get into. Hats off to the troupe, who also perform in the brassy overture and finale. There were a few songs which the emcee presented - she had a vibrant and commanding voice and most of the songs were pretty good, although the last one was a bit of a mindfuck when the lyrics involved such gems as 'englargening', 'penetrating', and 'expanding'. But in the end no-one cares except me.

All in all I enjoyed it, but hyped myself up for it way too much since I expected more from the design. I liked the acts but they were interrupted too often by comedy and there were a few feats that I really loathe. The comedy when not interrupting the acts was solid and genuinely funny, and the music was okay but too loud and brash for me. My friends seemed to enjoy it, and it's over 9000 times better than Ovo, which will be spreading its shit on our shores next July-ish. I'd recommend it if you're looking for something to see in the Brisbane Festival and haven't already gone to see anything, since now Rhinoceros in Love has finished. It's hard not to be impressed by the talent this troupe has.

Tickets for Circus Oz's 'Steampowered' range from $25 to $45, and is showing from 21st to 25th of September, 2011 at QPAC Playhouse. Book by visiting the Brisbane Festival Website or visiting the Circus Oz Website.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Brisbane Festival - What's Wrong With Gregor Post?

I stole this image from the Brisbane Festival website.
What's Wrong With Gregor Post? I have no fucking idea - aspergers? ADHD? Too much time on the shrooms? I couldn't really answer the question, but it was pretty solid entertainment for fifty minutes that's crammed full of political in-correctness, and at such a small price you don't really have anything to lose by going to watch it. You're also supporting the Brisbane Festival and local artists. So yaaaay.

What's Wrong With Gregor Post? is a show about the titular character recounting some of his fabulous globe-trotting escapades. Through some tricky conventions and unbelievable stories, aided by some kind of narrator, Post communicates various tales of his travels that are remarkable to the extent that its started to question whether they happened at all. What's Wrong With Gregor Post? is a delicious black comedy that revolves around the power of imagination. Possibly.

I enjoyed it like a movie - it was light, snappy entertainment, but it just didn't manage to immerse me into the dramatic world (or meaning, until after), and I found my mind wandering an awful lot, pondering the mysteries of the universe but primarily reflecting my boring personal life. However, Post's adventures, which are told episodically, have bizarre and unpredictable twists which never fail to entertain. I'm pretty sure other patrons of the show were pissed off since I kept on laughing at pretty much everything, but to be honest any speech that involve the words 'moist' and 'dense' in the same sentence are a fucking win. The script was full of snappy throw-away comments that were hilariously crass and surely would have sent some monocles flying.

The setting and lighting were nice and simple. The set itself was simple, but crammed full of objects including lights, signs and furniture which expanded for Post's adventures which filled and flourished the minimalist stage (the rest you can fill in with your imagination. AHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAA! <- what a pun). The music, which combined lots of pop  music extracts with (what I think was) an original score was utilised really well, setting and assisting the mood in an unobtrusive manner.

I almost liked the Metro Arts theatre, but the fact that we could hear all the music blaring from the coffee shop outside, including 'Lines on Palms' by Josh Pyke, which in turn reminded me of Bree, made me froth wildly with unconditional, incandescent rage.

I made sure to buy Benjamin Coconut-Smashing Schostakowski - I call him that without his knowledge, seeing as he doesn't actually know who I am - a drink afterwards, partly to thank him for the quirky piece he put on for us, but also out of guilt at the fact I rocked up the Metro with Thom and Othelia somewhat inebriated after downing a bunch of beers to obliterate any memories or emotions about my lack of love life (although, writing shit like this all the time, I'm pretty sure people - myself included - agree I do deserve it).

Schostakowski is a talented guy, I really enjoyed What's Wrong With Gregor Post? but I just didn't find it exceptionally thought provoking or ground-breaking. But who the fuck cares - it's got awesome dry humour, it's not prudish and it's inherently entertaining. By the way, this isn't a review, I'm way too drunk for this to be a review. Yay Ben!

Tickets for Benjamin Coconut-Smashing Schostakowski's 'What's Wrong With Gregor Post?' range from $15 to $20, and is showing from 8th to 11th of September, 2011 at Metro Arts Theatre. Book by visiting the Brisbane Festival Website or by calling FoxTix on 1300 111 369 .