Out of the box brilliance

Black Box (Grey Gum Productions and Tinderbox Productions)

QPAC, Cremorne Theatre

May 10 – 19

Queensland writer and composer Paul Hodge’s “Black Box” touches down in world premiere at QPAC with unique proposition to present a biaural 3D soundscaped musical telling of the life of a little-known Australian inventor. On paper it sounds like a niche, curious combination of elements. In reality it clearly works; in fact it not only works, but triumphs in a unique and absorbing night of brilliant out-of-the-uusal-box theatre.

The show, which serves up an experience as much as entertainment, sees audience members wearing individual cordless headphones to be aurally immersed in the story of Dr David Warren, the Australian inventor of the first black box flight recorder. The multiple levels upon which this works become apparent as things unfold from our initial introduction to a youthful wannabe radio ham David (Michael Cormick) who likes spending time outside, planes and music on a radio gifted by absent minister father. Still grieving the schoolboy loss of his always-busy dad in a plane crash, practical black-and-white thinker David heads to Sydney University to study science teaching on way to his ultimate goal of gaining a PhD in Chemistry to make planes safer through study of fuels and such.

As David moves into marriage with optimistic and artistic dreamer Ruth (Helen Dallimore), his adult passions are activated by overseas completion of a PhD in Physics and a research breakthrough that follows his UK airshow introduction to the world’s first jet airline, which can fly double the speed of anything else. When David is forced back to Australia and into a military public service role, his research is recalibrated thanks to a random trade show discovery, which leads to a relentless determination to have black boxes made mandatory in all planes thorough an international crusade to be heard.

It’s a fascinating story, especially from a Queensland perspective, given the role that the inquiry into 1960’s Trans Australia Airline Fokker Friendship passenger aircraft crash into the ocean on approach to Mackay played in black boxes being placed in every plane. Alongside its history though, this is also the story of a man and wife and, through this, tribute also to the support offered by Ruth’s reminders to David that showing and telling works better than just the latter.

Dallimore gives a solid performance, journeying us through Ruth’s transformation from solely supportive wife to otherwise concerned mother attempting to hold down the fort while David works late and travels overseas, as is needed for his efforts to be recognised. However, as touching as some of their moments together as, in foreshadowed despair as much as delight as their family grows, this really is Cormick’s show. Never off stage for its approximately two-hour (with interval) duration, he takes his character from child to adult and ultimate Doctor, demonstrating honed acting skills in naturally relaying his character’s interactions and conversations with unseen others (amongst an actual much larger cast, which includes names such as Bernard Curry, Bryan Probets, Hugh Parker, Liz Buchan and Elliot Baker) heard only through our combined headphones… like sympathetic superior Lawie who supports his on-the-side passion project work for after his day-to-day fuel tanker blow ups et al. It’s all quite clever as we see Cormick also play, for example, on a swing concert date, an invisible clarinet in perfect synchronicity with the sounds of our (and his) headphones.

The headphones do more than just surround sound individual audience members with the atmospheric details of mosquitoes and alike. They serve as a multi-layered metaphor as they allow us, like David, to hear music all around (courtesy of the 15-piece band) in every sound and also what happens in the shades in between, on each side of his mind… in stereo rather than mono tell show of David’s inventive inspirations. And combined with the small Cremorne Theatre space and the work’s era-evocative and thematically appropriate yet unobtrusive staging (set design Isabel Hudson), including use of HD screens (video design by Mic Grucry), they create an individual intimacy to the storytelling, which only heightens its engagement.

Under Nick House’s musical direction (rehearsals musical direction by Simon Hold), Hodge’s orchestrations literally heartbeat through the musical in work with Daniel Herton’s sound design, through unique numbers such as an energetic doof doof signpost of initial European interest in David’s re-released report, which work alongside the original Dami In song ‘A New Era’. ‘Show and Tell’ refrains throughout, cleverly morphing into sneak-up of a catchy ‘Unofficially’, which sends the audience towards interval with snappy share of David’s intention to move from tell to show through creation of a proper prototype. Both performers are vocally strong with voices that harmonise well together in gentler numbers, for example about their parental intention to guide their children through their shared dreams. And Cormick showcases strong vocals throughout, especially in Act Two’s powerful titular number about the need to let it go for his greater good.

The blend of all these elements makes “Black Box” a captivating experience of a fascinating story of a man whose desire to keep planes in the sky has created a world-wide aviation safety legacy. Hodge’s book, music and lyrics work together seamlessly and under David Berthold’s astute direction the story’s telling is both detailed in every possible way and also apparently authentic in even its catch phrases of dialogue and song, as evidenced by a concluding share of archival Smithsonian Museum footage of David’s invention discussion as epilogue. There is much attention to detail needed to create and execute a work of such multi-layered precision and with addition also of some humour, its themes of imagination, ambition and legacy are easily let fly into our affection.

Photos c/o – Darren Thomas

Rabbit revelations

Harvey (Sunnybank Theatre Group)

Sunnybank Theatre Group

April 26 – May 11

Mary Chase’s Pulitzer Prize-winning 1944 play “Harvey” begins with a phone call as social-climber Veta Simmons (Shirley Moran) sees her Wednesday forum reception interrupted by a very important society editor seeking information about the house’s first party in years. Passive aggressive comments in the ensuing conversation hint as to Veta’s dilemma of unmarried daughter Myrtle Mae (Leanne Cotton), however, of bigger concern is her kind-hearted bachelor brother and heir to their recently deceased mother’s fortune, Elwood P. Dowd (Nathaniel Young), whose afternoon absence from the house is the reason for the event’s timing, because should he have been present, he surely would be scandalising proceedings with his odd behaviour, including introduction of his six-foot, six-foot three-and-one-half-inch friend, the versatile titular invisible rabbit Harvey.

From his first appearance on stage, Young is charming as the kind and affable oh-so-pleasant (albeit eccentric) Elwood as he responds literally to questions, with an essential trust and innocence that sees him unaware of societal expectations as to how conversations typically proceed, instead yearning only for connection with others. And he shows considerable skill in acting to empty space to carry on a believable running dialogue with a giant invisible rabbit.

As is often the case with community theatre productions, there is a variety of on-stage talent on show. Of note, Moran conveys great comic physicality in her dishevelled emergence from the shenanigans of Act One where, exasperated to the point of hysterics, Veta tries to have Elwood committed at the local sanatorium in order to make him a ‘perfectly normal human being’, resulting in some classic comedy moments of misunderstanding. Peta Townend, too, who plays old family friend Ms Chauvenet, conveys authentic disturbed bewilderment at her introduction to Harvey by Elwood.

As the sanatorium’s Nurse Kelly, Lesley Davis similarly reveals much of her character’s thought processes and ultimate realisation of Harvey’s persona through her facial expressions alone, which are tempered also by the nurse’s growing enchantment with Elwood as a man of old-fashioned manners and “my dear” greetings. Indeed, there is a wholesome, almost quaint sensibility to play out of the script’s farcical comedy-of-errors chaos, reflected in not just the details of the comfortable theatre’s simple staging, but through even the interval musical accompaniment of the 1950s sort, catering to those with memory of the wholesome Jimmy Stewart film of that era.

While a lot of the classic light comedy’s laugh-out-loud moments come from the mayhem of its one eventful day’s unfolding, there is also something quite wholesome and lovely to the essentially mild-mannered story of “Harvey” and its normalisation of difference, lovingly realised by Deb Chalmers’ thoughtful direction. Just as there is much focus on the idea of appearance given the constant conversations about what Elwood should be doing, beyond its own whimsical veneer, there is also much substance to reveal of the play’s messaging about the value of imagination. And with themes of acceptance and understanding underpinning it, there is a universal appeal to its messaging, even 90 years after its first creation.

Prom power

Carrie The Musical (Phoenix Ensemble)

Pavilion Theatre

May 3 – 25

The plot of “Carrie the Musical” (with book by Lawrence D. Cohen and score by Dean Pitchford and Michael Gore) is quite a simple one. Shy 17-year-old loner Carrie White (Chelsea Sales), sheltered by her hyper-religious mother (Carly Quinn) is ridiculed by her peers. Bullied to breaking point, just prior to graduation she lets her burgeoning telekinetic powers evoke her revenge. What engages its audience is not its plot, or even its score, however, but, rather, the extremes of its realisation.

Compassionate, empathetic Sue Snell (Sophie Mason) asks her popular Prince Charming boyfriend Tommy Ross (Kyle Armstrong) to do her a favour and ask Carrie to the Prom, thinking that one small act of kindness might change Carrie’s life for good. After vicious bully Chris (Storm Fraser) is banned from the event by PE teacher Ms Gardner (a solid Lisa Alsop) as punishment for her mistreatment of Carrie, she vows revenge. Sure enough the story’s iconic bucket of pig’s blood is soon teetering above the stage of Carrie’s joke anointment as Prom Queen, and credit to Phoenix Ensemble for actually dumping liquid rather than resorting to using lighting to try and represent the bloody climax to a night they’ll never forget.

In a nod to its Stephen King source material novel’s device of using excerpts from books and articles supposedly written about Carrie White and ‘that night’, the musical is bookended and interspersed by extracts from interviews with Sue about the ‘alleged’ events. The story is shown as flashback, interjected with many songs of a range of musical styles. Under Harley Marsh’s Musical Direction an efficient ensemble of musical talents whisk us through the score’s up-tempo numbers and beautiful ballads alike, sneaking into scenes such as through a prelude lead-in to Tommy’s poetic ‘Dreamer in Disguise’, but the soundtrack fails to deliver any particularly memorable songs to ear-worm their way into memory. Still, the grand numbers of Carrie’s oppressive mother Margaret are impressive. Indeed, although Carrie is ignorant of the facts of life thanks to her overprotective mother’s fervent religious mania, there is less monstrosity to her mother’s portrayal than in the story’s previous incantations, which is particularly evident in the pair’s shared sympathetic scenes and duets, which are elevated by some lovely harmonies.

Sales gives a magnificent, moving performance as the story’s complex protagonist, awkwardly looking out from beneath her typically-bowed head and diminutive shrink into herself thanks to years of at-school mockery and at-home dismissal. She particularly shines in capture of the innocence and nervousness of a sheltered teen magically finding her confidence after receiving a gentle but genuine prom invitation from Tommy, which only serves to emphasise the coming juxtaposing fury of her final minutes. And her first (and titular) solo’s opening declaration ‘That’s not my name’, in response to classmate mockery with the moniker Scary White, establishes not only her character’s dreams of being vindicated and gaining respect from her peers, but her unquestionable vocal excellence.

The efforts of the creators add to the thrill of the story’s realisation. In particular, Maddy Bosanko’s lighting design menaces us into the story’s bloody climax, but also adds to depth to numbers like the tragic ‘And Eve Was Weak’, during which Margaret forces Carrie to pray for forgiveness, enacting materialisation of Carrie’s mysterious power. And Victoria Lancaster’s stylised choreography allows for a visceral revelation of the extent of Carrie’s telekinesis, particularly in the show’s ultimate destruction sequence.

One of the hallmarks of Phoenix Ensemble programming is its inclusion of interesting works and “Carrie The Musical” is a brave project, especially given its legendary 1988 failure on Broadway, closing after only a handful of shows. Stephen King’s book is widely known and Sissy Spacek’s career-defining performance in Brian de Palma’s film version is iconic. It is a text full of familiar imagery, to which homage is appropriate paid, however, the inclusion of flip phones and ‘90s t-shirt prints to re-cement the story’s era appears to be without any real purpose. What does work, however, are the added elements of characterisation to introduce some comic subplots to an otherwise straightforward story, as under Joshua Brandon’s direction little nuances of all characters are clearly defined. This means that there is something on offer for all audience members, whether they have familiarity with its source material or not.

Photos c/o – Brit Creative

Black magic immersion

The Woman in Black (PW Productions, Woodward Productions and Neil Gooding Productions)

QPAC, The Playhouse

April 30 – May 11

Stephen Mallatratt’s ingenious stage adaption of Susan Hill’s acclaimed 1983 gothic novel “The Woman in Black” is metatheatrical from its outset as with stall lights somewhat still on, distressed lawyer Arthur Kipps (John Waters in the role he debuted in Australia in 2006), obsessed with a curse be believes to have been cast over him and his family by the spectre of a woman in black, engages a sceptical young actor (Daniel MacPherson) to help him tell his terrifying story. With rule of three humour in-play Kipps attempts time and time (and time) again to tell his burdensome Christmas Eve story in order to purge himself of the associated emotions and to finally attempt to convey the truth of the matter, in order to put the events to rest and move on.

The frightening pale and wasted face of the malevolent titular woman, meanwhile, does not appear until a little way into the story, and then only really in description through protagonist Kipps’ recount of how as a Junior solicitor he was sent to oversee the funeral and retrieve the documents of the extraordinary Mrs Alice Drablow, an elderly, reclusive widow and client of his law firm, only to encounter many characters unwilling or unable to share the strange stories and secrets of her secluded Eel Marsh House. Her presence, however, haunts the terror at the heart of the play’s mystery as his darkest memories are recalled.

As we are eased into the recalled story’s transportation to the eerie Eel Marsh House in the small market town of Crythin Gifford in the remote north of England, its retelling is enlivened by changing perspectives as MacPherson takes on role as Kipps as a younger man and Waters serves the script’s multiple more minor characters. With only small costume changes and additions, a range of distinct characterisations bring these to such life as to have us forgetting that this is a two-hander. MacPherson gives a particularly strong performance that is energetically dynamic from the outset, easily taking the audience through a range of emotions as events unfold, particularly in tension-filled conveyance of initial fear and terror while moving carefully towards the House’s mysterious door.

The framing device of a play-within-a-play which initially allows Kipps to becomes an actor himself, allows the versatile Waters opportunity to shine from the start, playing the difficult role of a character who can not act. He not only nails this, but follows it with a range of other roles such as the proprietor of the inn where Arthur stays and the cantankerous caretaker and pony trap driver appointed to ferry Arthur across the foggy Nine Lives Causeway back and forth between the town and the isolated estate, complete with authentic Yorkshire accent.

The script is filled with evocative, descriptive dialogue, meaning that only simple set items and props (Michael Holt, designer) are needed for its telling. In companion, precise sound and lighting serve almost as characters playing an essential role in the play’s storytelling, magically maintaining a sinister atmosphere to keep audience on edge until the final horror of the Woman in Black’s legacy is revealed.

Sebastian Frost’s immersivesound design (original sound design by Rod Mead) works practically to, for example, suggest Kipps’ sea-misted journey to the desolate House and convey the enormity of the cavernous church setting of a barely-attended funeral, but also aesthetically to heighten the horror and sense of suspense in creation of an increasingly chilling soundscape as Kipps settles in to a night of collecting his client’s personal papers and letters with interruption from behind-locked-door bumps in the night, pony and trap sounds and screams. Similarly, Kevin Sleep’slighting design adds considerably to the atmosphere, haunting the graveyard and ominous halls of Eel Marsh House, shadowing initial description of the mysterious woman and menacing the only locked door of the Victorian-era house.

The sophisticated execution ensures that audience minds and wits are equally engaged to follow the play’s storytelling with wonder as to the elusive woman in question. And under Robin Herford’s astute direction, we are allowed to sit in the silences of its thrills before being jumped into its terror. (I have never experienced a theatre audience collectively screaming in frightened fear as was the case on Brisbane opening night.) With skilfully placed heart-stopping thrills, the play offers a visceral experience unlike any other, especially as the terror is crescendoed in Act Two as Kipps sets out in search in silhouette behind a scrim screen.

This thrilling theatrical exploration of terror represents a masterful production of a play that has spent three decade running on London’s West End, second only to the stalwart “The Mousetrap”. The restraint and focus of this “The Woman in Black” stand as tribute to this longevity, ensuring an engaging aesthetic experience throughout its pensive play-out. Indeed, this is as intense as theatre gets, making its Australian tour a 2024 must-see.

Photos c/o – Justin Nicholas

Locker room rave

37 (Queensland Theatre and Melbourne Theatre Company)

Queensland Theatre, Bille Brown Theatre

April 11 – May 4

The Cutting Cove Currawongs is a proud club steeped in tradition stained only by the lack of a premiership. With this as the focus, its team members are excited about the season ahead and the fresh opportunities offered by recruitment of two talented aboriginal players, cousins Jayma (a fine performance from Queensland Theatre newcomer (Ngali Shaw) and Sonny (Tibian Wyles), who have left their mob in the valley with determination to dominate in the starting team. As its game day breakaway banner attests, it’s ‘One Team One Dream’… but in Nathan Maynard’s “37”, things are rarely as simple as such appearances might suggest as the conflict between top dogs and underdogs occurring on-field is also evident in the team’s behind-the-scenes dynamics.

It is 2015, is a small country coastal town somewhere in Australia. Thanks to its IGA et al sponsors, the footy team represents the heartbeat of a community united in their game-day “black, white, we’re all right” chant, in recognition of the team’s Collingwood-like uniform. As the cousins integrate into the all-white community of the football team through training camp initiations and pre-season bonding traditions, the scene is set for eventual conflict and about halfway into its 90 minutes (no interval) duration, things start to take a turn in terms of dramatic tension as themes such as cancel culture and racism are explored through the sporting lens. (The show is named after the number immortalised by Adnyamathanha man and AFL champion player Adam Goodes).

“37” is very much an ensemble piece, with excellent performances all around. All are match fit in contribution to the show’s energy, however, Shaw is a clear standout, guiding us through his character’s changing perspectives, from his initial enthusiasm to ultimately realised his football father’s dream, through the divided loyalty that comes from his different life stage from cousin Sonny, to the heights of his anger and conflict over whether his personal beliefs should be compromised. Ben O’Toole also does a particularly solid job in giving team captain Joe an essential empathy in contrast to the behaviour of other heralded team members. Indeed, Trawlwoolway man, Maynard’s script presents characters more than caricatures with much questionable commentary coming from the comic relief of joker Gorby (Mitchell Brotz), humanising what could otherwise be an simple, archetypal villain. For all of its sweaty, sweary bravado, this is a nuanced new work full of clever foreshadowing such as early emphasis on the importance of communication on the footy fields and everything coming at a cost.

Dale Ferguson’s costume design assists in the establishment of characters, brightening the arrival of the two Marngrook cousins (named after the Aboriginal game that inspired AFL) and juxtaposing the complexity of the issues under consideration with the black and white of the team’s uniforms. The highly physical play is also enhanced by the efforts of co-choreographers Waangenga Blanco and director Isaac Drandic, with the choreography of rough sporting scenes of the game, being punctuated by the inclusion also of stylistic indigenous dance. Specky and alike stills create some memorable imagery in emphasis of the individual vs team struggles brewing beneath, while Ben Hughes’ lighting design often provides an elegant backdrop to the action in signpost of the interconnection of Marngrook and AFL with traditional ceremony movement and sounds (Composer & Sound Designer James Henry).

Authenticity arounds in the fly-on-the-wall sensibility to the story being presented. Maynard’s script is rich with realistic dialogue and amusing banter between characters, but also moments of honest poignancy. Through this, its warnings include about the use of frequent strong course language, racially sensitive commentary and mature themes in its exploration of important social issues. Although there may be no clearcut conclusion or resolution as is so often the case in the real life, in its unfolding “37” is very easy to watch, making its themes accessible even to those less familiar with the Adam Goodes ‘war cry’ era of our country’s recent sporting history

This is a highly crafted new Australian work, tightly directed by Isaac Drandic to absorb the audience into its journey. Whether a footy fanatic or not, audience members should know enough to appreciate the multiple levels upon which the show operates. Visceral and exciting, “37” is a laugh-out-loud new Australian play deserving of its rave reviews and given that the sporting arena is arguably this country’s greatest theatre, there is perhaps no better setting for storytelling, especially of the need to understand each other.

Loot laughs

Loot (Ad Astra)

Ad Astra

April 4 – 27

Dead bodies often feature in theatrical farces and in Ad Astra’s “Loot” a body makes appearance from the outside as even pre-show it is clear that we are entering the scene of an imminent funeral. What follows, however, is far from deadly serious.

English Playwright Joe Orton’s outrageous 1966 black-comedy’s storyline follows the fortunes of two young amateur thieves, Hal (Jett Robson) and Dennis (Liam Hartley) who rob the bank next to the funeral parlour where Dennis works and return to Hal’s home to hide the money. Hal’s mother (Lisa Hickey) has just died, and the loot is hidden in her coffin. The arrival of the devious Inspector Truscott (Steven Grives), sees things becoming more bizarre as Hal and Dennis try to keep him off their trail, aided by the deceased’s much-married Nurse Fay (Fiona Kennedy), to the despair of Hal’s father, Mr. McLeavy (Iain Gardiner). It’s an appropriately absurd premise in its satire of societal rituals around bereavement and the mismatch between acceptable and actual standards of conduct.

While there is touch on some still-relevant themes of integrity, social attitudes to death and the role of the Roman Catholic Church, as a farce, the play’s primary purpose is to elicit laughter and, with elements of a funeral and bank robbery, along with characters like an agenda-ed nurse and a corrupt policeman, there is certainly plenty of opportunity for this as events crescendo along through the 2 hours (including interval) of its two-act duration.

Under Jennifer Flowers’ direction, it’s an extreme pace through an increasingly tangled web of deceit and corruption, yet nothing is left to chance its detail or staging, which ensure the improbable events are played out ludicrously. Bill Haycock’s Production Design contributes much to this, as does the manner in which the body of the dearly departed Mrs McLeavy is constantly moved about the limited Ad Astra theatre space. Flowers’ direction ensures that the necessary farcical pace is maintained throughout. The savagely subversive text includes many clever lines of dialogue, delivered with taking a beat, which only elevates the impact of Orton’s essential wit.

Late-season, the honed rhythms of the chaos’ play-out are also ensured through the production’s performances. Kennedy, in particular, gloriously leans into the role of devoutly Catholic but also incredibly wicked Nurse Faye. Iain Gardiner provides a balance from the outset as he takes us through Mr McLeavy’s evolving mindsets, all with a never-fail accent. And Hickey is delightful in her selfless play of Mrs McLeavey’s corpse.

As the most famous of Orton’s farces, “Loot” is an outlandish wild ride, but one that gives its passengers much to enjoy. With laughs aplenty, it allows its audience to both appreciate its satire and/or enjoy its humour in or of itself, which makes for an enjoyable night out for everyone.