Category: Festivals

Festivals, Musical Theatre, Whats On

Melbourne International Comedy Festival 2017: ASSISTED SUICIDE – THE MUSICAL

Seriously funny

By Joana Simmons

From turning dirty thirty, to having a poke at their nationality, to everything in between, this year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival has artists with all sorts of reasons to put on a show. In Assisted Suicide, The Musical, the motive for putting on the show here is a very important one. Described as “a TeD Talk with show tunes” UK’s disability rights campaigner and actor Liz Carr (Clarissa Mullery in the BBC’s Silent Witness) and her cast of upbeat cheesy chorus members sing, dance and shed light on what can be seen as a dark issue, especially at this time as our Victorian Premier pushing for a parliamentary conscience vote on euthanasia this year.

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Opening with a classic kick-line chorus number “Choosing Choice”, we are warmed up for a night of musical messages and edgy issues. Liz Carr graces the stage in her glitter-filled hair and sparkly boots and is engaging and relaxed. She speaks with eloquence and passion, peppering facts with comedy, piece by piece revealing how assisted suicide is not black and white: there is a fine line between terminally ill and disabled. We see how by making it legal will eventually mean that people like her will feel like there is an exit sign hanging over their heads. The show is humorously and well written, including some wonderfully cringe-worthy puns and catchy tunes.

Many theatrical elements were used to make this discussion entertaining and compelling. Carr and director Mark Whitelaw have got in our faces and pushed us to think harder. The set is simple and effective, and space used well by all the cast. The choreography and singing is relatively basic: initally I was unsure if the chorus were meant to be taking the mickey or just giving a tacky delivery, but as the show went on there were some standout moments that left us chortling, such as the marking meeting meeting to ‘jazz up’  the idea of euthenasia with a new brandname, or the raunchy number to make end-of-life care more appealing (“Palliative Claire”). Composer Ian Hill’s music follows the famous showtune formula that we love, and the sound was good as expected in a venue like Malthouse. The lighting however was not as coherent, with some cast members being in half darkness or cues being missed the night I attended.

Amazing work and thought has gone into this show to deliver a complex and controversial subject in a comedic and highly digestible way. It’s meaty, it’s memorable, and sometimes it melts your heart. My eyes were opened and shows like this remind us how powerful theatre can be. If you are looking for something to sink your teeth into this comedy festival, or even have a nibble and then think a little; this is the show for you.

Assisted Suicide, The Musical

30th March- 9th April

6.00pm

Beckett Theatre, The Coopers Malthouse

Southbank

$17.50 – $25’

http://malthousetheatre.com.au/whats-on/assisted-suicide-the-musical

Circus, Festivals, Whats On

Melbourne International Comedy Festival 2017: SOAP

Lather up

By Myron My

Bath time has never been this fun – and sexy – as Soap. Direct from Germany, Soap is touring Australia with original and engaging circus acts that will leave audiences with their mouths wide open as they witness the re-interpretation of what circus can be. Presented as pat of this year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival, it’s definitely a show that should not be missed.

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The troupe – Adem Endris, Liudmila Nikolaeva, Lena Ries, Daniel Leo Stern, Mario Espanol and Moritz Haase – are on top of their game with their physically demanding and challenging acts. The acrobatics between Espanol and Haase create a firm highlight, displaying the performers’ athleticism and strength, and also being a rare opportunity where I have seen same-sex relationships highlighted in mainstream circus. Nikolaeva has a commanding presence each time she appears on stage, as she executes a variety of tricks with finesse and skill.

Joining the cast on stage is soprano Jennifer Lindshield, who adds an operatic tone to Tal Bashai’s musical arrangements. While this seems like a peculiar choice, the genre is integrated thoughtfully and creatively with the rest of the show. Lindshield’s “Splish Splash” re-imagining is particularly entertaining to watch and hear, as is Nicole Ratjen‘s commendable clowning ability in warming up the audience and providing laughs during the very smooth transitions.

Daniele Drobny‘s stage design of six bathtubs raised to various heights captures our attention before we’ve even taken our seat and its authoritative presence is never forgotten. The bath theme works well in creating moments of playful fun, like Endris’ juggling striptease, to something more intense and intimate, such as the loved-triangle themed acrobatic performance by Stern, Nikolaeva and Ries.

Soap is world-class circus that is bound to have audiences transfixed by what is being presented on the stage. It’s full of surprising moments and acts that – while they may have been done before – have never been done in this way. An extremely polished show that will have you looking at your bathtub in a different light.

Venue: Malthouse Theatre, 113 Sturt Street, Southbank
Season: until 22 April | Tues – Sat 7.30pm, Sat 4pm, Sun 6:30pm
Length: 85 minutes
Tickets: Prices from $44.50 to $56.50
Bookings: MICF website

Comedy, Festivals, Whats On

Melbourne International Comedy Festival 2017: WIL ANDERSON is CRITICALLY ILL

Poignantly and gloriously funny

By Jessica Cornish

Exuding wit, personality and bundles of charisma, Wil Anderson is proudly performing his newest show Critically Ill for his twenty-second consecutive appearance at the 2017 Melbourne International Comedy Festival at the iconic Comedy Theatre.

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Anderson’s high-energy show examined the dire state of the world and the biggest problems facing our society ranging from climate change, privilege and domestic violence. His show boldly makes fun of the ignorance and absurdities displayed by members of our society who arm themselves with a lack of facts and knowledge sourced from the world of Facebook and Buzzfeed. Accordingly, Anderson repeatedly emphasised that we are currently living a world where facts no longer matter nor hold value, which is best exemplified by the 2016 Oxford dictionary’s word of the year ‘post-truth’ meaning that ‘objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief’.

Anderson’s show is beyond hilarious and every minute was a pleasure, which is no easy feat considering the bleak subject matter. The 75-minute stand-up routine is well-structured and fast-paced as he cleverly highlighted the world on the brink of disaster with such animation and joy despite the stark realities he speaks about. The show also has a beguiling more personal element touching on his family background growing up as the son and grandson of a dairy farmer from a rural Australian town and growing in to the person and life he wanted to create for himself. I particularly enjoyed his lively imitations of himself, friends and politicians as he coaxes you into his version of the truth which he asserts should itself always be questioned.

Wil Anderson’s Critically Ill is thought-provoking, bleak and joyfully funny all at once: catch him while you can.

The Comedy Theatre, cnr Lonsdale & Exhibition Sts, Melbourne

Wed 29 Mar – Sat 1 Apr: 8.45pm;
Sun 2 Apr: 6pm;
Wed 5 Apr & Thu 6 Apr: 8.45pm;
Fri 7 Apr: 9.30pm;
Sun 9 Apr: 6pm;
Wed 12 Apr – Fri 14 Apr: 8.45pm;
Sun 16 Apr: 6pm;
Wed 19 Apr – Fri 21 Apr: 8.45pm;
Sun 23 Apr: 6pm 

AUSLAN: Wed 5 Apr: 8.45pm
Buy tickets through Ticketmaster

Wed & Thu $34.90
Fri $49.90

http://www.ticketmaster.com.au

Arts Centre Melbourne
State Theatre, 100 St Kilda Rd, Melbourne

Sat 15 Apr and Sat 22 Apr: 9pm 
Buy tickets through Arts Centre Melbourne

Sat $54.90
Sun $44.90

www.artscentremelbourne.com.au

Festivals, Review, Whats On

Melbourne International Comedy Festival 2017: CREEPY DUMMY

Witty and winning

By Myron My

It’s a weird show for weird people, or that’s what Sarah Jones tells the audience during Creepy Dummy, which is presented as part of this year’s Melbourne International Comedy Festival. Jones is a ventriloquist and through the course of the evening she is joined by a number of special “guests”, and together we try to determine why ventriloquist dummies / dolls have received such a bad rap, and for people who have seen Annabelle or Magic, it’s not hard to tell why.

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Jones explains how people often declare how creepy puppets are or expressing their automatonophobia (fear of ventriloquist’s dummies) whenever she reveals her profession to them. In order to dispel this fear, Jones shares some interesting stories and facts regarding ventriloquism and dolls through stand-up, shadow play and of course puppets.

What is particularly enjoyable about Creepy Dummy is that, despite the topic, the show cleverly remains light-hearted. It gets to the point where you begin to understand that nothing is creepy unless you let it be, and this includes a range of fears that are touched on, such as dummies, ghosts, spiders and even babies.

Jones’ relaxed nature and structuring of the performance allows for her interactions with the audience to be friendly and playful. Even when certain interactions don’t go according to plan, as happened on the night I attended, Jones does not skip a beat and happily accepts the curve ball and continues on with the show. However, the final, pivotal minutes of the show could do with a little fine-tuning to ensure it ends on the high that has been maintained throughout.

There are plenty of laughs to be had with Creepy Dummy but meeting Jones’ Aunt Catherine is definitely worth the ticket price alone. While the show might not have you loving puppets and dummies, it will definitely give you the courage to go back for second helpings of this highly talented and funny ventriloquist.

Venue: The Butterfly Club, 5 Carson Place, Melbourne 

Season: until 10 April | until 2 April 8.30pm, 3 – 6 April 5:30pm, 10 April 7pm 

Length: 55 minutes 

Tickets: $32.30 Full | $28.30 Conc 

Bookings: MICF website

Dance, Festivals, Review

Dance Massive Presents DIVERCITY

An experience of joy

By Joana Simmons

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“When you live away from home and reside in the city, on someone else’s land, does it change your relationship to country?”

In Divercity, Bundjalung/Yaegl choreographer Mariaa Randall guides us with dance, colour and conversation to explore this idea. Presented by Arts House and performed Henrietta Baird and Waiata Telfer (who also choreographed) this was one show to catch this season. Set in front of a projection; the movement, dialogue and structure are all impeccably defined. This work is a look at indigenous cultural celebration delivered in a beautifully artistic way.

Individuals self-identifying as women of the audience are invited in first to learn some simple movement and words for ‘woman’ ‘girl’ and ‘feminine’ in the language of their country. It is lighthearted and Randall eases the tension. There was a sense of hesitation initially, but it felt special to be part of the performance, and fostered a sense of community among us. lluminated by an evocative filmic backdrop by video artist Keith Deverell, Baird and Telfer performed traditional and contemporary dance whilst speaking native tongues and English. The choreography is dynamic and looked fantastic with the projection. The use of coloured chalk on their clothes that they swept up and banged in the floor work was stunning. The extension, energy and execution of the movement was breathtaking, and this wonderful intensity was sustained for so long.

The conversational nature of the dialogue draws us in and is at points authentically funny, making the performance enjoyable on so many levels. I was impressed by the stamina of the performers; twisting and rolling into and out of the floor, covered in vibrant colourful chalk, connecting with each other and the audience the whole way through. Randall is a genuine creative star and should be highly commended for bringing this work together. Deverell’s sound design fits well with the projection and movement and allows the spoken word to be heard and the movement to pick up and become complex and thrilling. The space was used well and performers captured from the light from the four follow spots on the corners. The stage is left covered in vibrant colour from the chalk on the performers’ bodies, with the shapes from the tape they pulled up stencilled in the tarquet, and we the audience sit in silence as we soak up and share the clever cultural creation we just experienced.

This show, structured around Aboriginal spiritual and traditional cultures of Women’s Business created and performed by indigenous women, is one that gives us so much inspiration and excitement. Divercity shows us, no matter where we are from, where we are now, what gender we identify with or what our heritage and language is, we all have bodies which can be beautiful vessels for communication and expression.  I loved every part of it- the celebration of community and how movement brings people together: the playful nature and the synchronisity of the projection and language and being made part of the performance. If you got a ticket before it sold out, you too enjoyed a real treat.

Divercity played in March 2017 as part of Dance Massive at North Melbourne Town Hall.

Image by Keith Deverell

Dance, Events, Festivals

Dance Massive Presents DEEP SEA DANCES

Eclectic exploration

By Joana Simmons

For ten days in March, Dance Massive brings us a program of all things dance, from the athletic to the obscure. Presented by Arts House, Dancehouse and Malthouse Theatre in association with Ausdance Victoria, the curated and commissioned program features local and international artists who have created works to engage and connect with. Through the international medium that is movement to music, across this program we are given a chance to rediscover our belief in the joyous and the extraordinary privilege of feeling alive. Rebecca Jensen’s Deep Sea Dances takes us to the depths of the sea, exploring the ecosystems that unfold as a dead whale sinks to the depths. Set to a live soundtrack and silence, the large cast come together to prioritize transition and transformation.

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Beginning with a work that recreated the rolling waves set to the breath of the ensemble, we the audience found ourselves sitting at the edges of the warehouse dive deep. The use of cannon and release of the head gave the real water lapping at your ankles’ feeling. From there, however, I was lost. I’m unsure whether, excuse the pun, I was out of my depth, but for the next 45 minutes the same movements were repeated over and over again to minimal music.  It felt like a self-indulgent and exhaustive way to prove a point. I appreciated how the performers mixed up their placement onstage, and the timing; but the movement itself was so loosely executed and frequently repeated I was unsure whether I was at a professional or student production. The costume was unflattering and sneakers were worn by all which cut off leg lines and led to some quite clunky movement. When the pace picked up, there were some good moments, however as a whole the use of repetition, lack of any extension or definitive lines or any facial expression made me, and the woman opposite me who had nodded off, feel completely excluded.

Still, credit must be given to the production in some regards as some bold choices have been made. Rebecca Jensen and Marco Cher-Gibard’s sound design is a big feature with some of the music being played live on a synth machine and keyboard by Jensen herself. It is also very exciting the way the roller door of the warehouse is bought up and the light from the street spills into the space as the dancers emerge, this time wet and clad in some slick-like fabric. They walked with pace and direction from one side to the other; which was engaging at first, but again went on for an exaggerated amount of time. Matthew Adey’s production design was simple and effective. The yellow tarquet made plenty of squeaks and music to the dancers’ sneakers, and the use of the industrial fan at the end was memorable….maybe because it was the end.

We live in a world where there is an oversaturation of media, art, film, video and theatre. Apparently we are time-poor and “connected” but also disconnected. I found this performance difficult to connect with at all based on how there was no eye contact with the audience or facial expression, and while I could understand the movement, I couldn’t understand the way it was going on for so long. If this was an experimental first performance for students, then those things are excusable. If this is trying to prove a point by challenging us to understand something deeper than what is being delivered, then great; I’m sure there are people who are out there who love having the splash of cold water on the face that is confronting theatre. However, considering the tickets are above $30, I would at least like to be able to trust that my time and money would be well-spent with attending a performance that left me feeling something other than confused and frustrated. Nevertheless, movers and shakers have to move and shake around all sorts of mediums to spark change. This is a show that has plenty of moving and shaking and, judging from the fact the performance I saw was sold out, there is a market of people who are going to appreciate it.

Deep Sea Dances was performed as part of Dance Massive in March 2017.

Image by Eliza Dyball

Dance, Events, Festivals

Dance Massive Presents TINY SLOPES

Brave and brilliant

By Joana Simmons

Sometimes as we get older, we challenge ourselves less. We don’t always push ourselves to fail and fall. In Tiny Slopes for Dance Massive, director/choreographer Nat Cursio has pushed the cast of dancers to learn to skateboard, and learn about risk, failure, humility and little wins along the way. Set along to an eclectic soundtrack, this impressive and artistic work is a joy from beginning to end. One of Melbourne’s wonderfully-kept historical venues, The Meat Market, tucked just north of the CBD  is a perfect host to this production that has a range of well-thought-out theatrical elements that really spin my wheels.

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We enter the Meat Market and sit looking at an almost-tennis-court-sized tarquet set with four skateboards. One of the dancers balances, jumps and manouvers cautiously around the board as the other three speak about things that they use to do when they were little, like jump off the roof of the shed and ride a tricycle down the windshield of Dad’s car. The snippets of memories are honest, dry and witty about the things they are scared of, what they don’t know about and what they can do. I loved how cleverly these anecdotes were woven through: though there’s no real storyline, they keep the work interesting, truthful and accessible.

Meanwhile, the depth of the stage is as impressive as how the dancers cover it. They use the skateboards as mechanisms for movement, with smooth natural floorwork and rolls; effortlessly skilled and meticulously choreographed.  The skateboards have microphones to capture their clunks and the sound of the wheels spinning, and this is enhanced and reverberated to make a fully stirring experience.  Young teenage girls who can skateboard with much dexterity skim the floor and play the roles of mentors, or past selves, to the four main dancers. The full house applauded as they tackled the ramps and mini half-pipe.

There’s many highlights and wonderful things to learn and take away from this show. Cursio made it from her ongoing interest in vulnerability and resilience, two virtues that are widely explored in this work. It is exciting and empowering to see a group of strong girls form a gang and put a beautiful story onstage. It’s got the athleticism and production of Cirque Du Solei with the artistic quality of a documentary seasoned with a little comedy. I want to commend the cast (Alice Dixon, Melissa Jones, Caroline Meaden, Francesca Meale, Rae Franco, Amelie Mansfield, Pyper Prosen, Pixel Willison-Allen) for their completely honest and genuine performance. It was really refreshing to see movement and performance that wasn’t flashy or self-indulgent: quite simply, it was artistic and accessible.

Travis Hogan’s comprehensive lighting combined with sound by Byron Scullin and ‘everyday awesome’ costumes by Sarah Hall gives this show a sweet aestheic and aural edge. Tamara Salwick as the text/ voice consultant has tastefully put together elements of the show that bring Cursio’s direction and choreography to life.

With no “ta da” ending, it is the choreographic unison and connection between the performers made this a satisfying show. It makes me feel like I too can take up something I’m afraid of, like skateboarding. It’s a privilege to enjoy performances of this nature. If you have never seen contemporary dance and are worried it’s wishy washy writhing in nude leotards, this is a spectacle that defies all of that and exceeds expectations. It’s an absolute delight.

Tiny Slopes played as part of Dance Massive in March 2017.

Image by Gregory Lorenzutti

Dance, Festivals, Review

AsiaTopa Presents DANCING WITH DEATH

Confronting and experimental

By Leeor Adar

As part of AsiaTopa, renowned Thai choreographer Pichet Klunchun presents Australian audiences with what he calls a dance representing a state of “limbo”.

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Based on the teachings of nineteenth-century Buddhist monk Luang Pu Dulaya, “Dun” Atulo, the meaning of “limbo”, is unpacked as all creatures sharing the same “citta”, a form of consciousness. Klunchun and his performers create a collective, and often arduous dance that signifies unpredictable shifts in power, whether within the individual or in wider society.

We really don’t get what we bargain for as an audience. Admittedly, a great number of those attending the performance are unfamiliar with Klunchun’s work, the creation of a revered and formidable dancer who contemporises traditional Thai dance. At first masked and colourful dancers parade about the stage and we think: of course, traditional. Moments later, a lone figure emerges in white, movements so precise and slow that they utterly contradict the colour and wildness of the more traditional movements. The lone figure moves in a manner that recalls Japan’s own Butoh, but Klunchun is about to take us on an entirely different journey as we soon discover.

Filed onto the performance space of the State Theatre, a stage is created upon a stage. A curved and sloping giant circle, which recalls a skateboard-rink lit in a brilliant yellow is our focus. The lone figure soon climbs onto this rink, only to be followed by others, also in white, also sharing in the lone figure’s limbo. The collective movements of the dancers is hauntingly soothing at first, and the monotony of the action hypnotises. Sound designer Hiroshi Iguchi masterfully creates a soundtrack that matches the dancers in their energy – a blend of modern, ardent and repetitive sound blasts through the audience.

As the pace quickens, we, like the dancers are simply exhausted. There are noticeable shifts in the dynamic of the dancers, representing desire for closeness, conflict and desperation. Our original lone figure continues to wander in the abyss, and the other dancers leap from the limbo rink into a celebration of contemporary dance with new additions. This is a joyous moment, but the lone figure continues to wander, and Klunchun’s world eclipses on this figure.

As an audience we did not know when to clap, or what to do. Klunchun succeeded in presenting an entirely new mode of dance theatre for this audience, but it was ultimately draining and unsettling. Unfortunately the result of this is alienation; perhaps that is what Klunchun intended in the hopes of showing our own tendency to “shun the unknown and change”, falling into a “vicious cycle” of lost opportunities in relating.

Dancing With Death was performed from the 2-4 March at the Arts Centre, Melbourne. You can learn more about Klunchun’s work here: http://pkdancecompany.com/

Festivals

Asia TOPA Presents TIME’S JOURNEY THROUGH A ROOM

Gliding through time and tragedy

By Myron My

The inaugural Melbourne festival Asia TOPA is the opportunity for Australia to celebrate the contemporary arts with its neighbouring Asian countries. Time’s Journey Through a Room comes to Melbourne from Japanese theatre company chelfitsch, and is a meditative and meaningful exploration of life, death, the in-between and the hereafter. Written and directed by Toshiki Okada, the performance is set a few days after the 2011 earthquake and Fukushima nuclear accident, but if you think the performance is actually going to be about those events, think again. Okada instead focuses on the relationships a young man has with his deceased wife and his new girlfriend.

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The cast of three – Izumi Aoyagi, Mari Ando and Yo Yoshida – deliver deeply nuanced performances in roles that on the surface do not seem to demand much, but the subtleties of their characters and the delicate spoken nuances are where the complexities of hope and hopelessness are explored. There is an significant emotional detachment present by the performers throughout the show that is well-balanced and effectively manifested.

Okada’s direction is detailed and specific to the most minute of detail, including how Arisa holds onto a pleat in her skirt or the way Hanako’s feet stretch out when she is resting against the dining table. The contrast of Arisa’s unnatural movement and constricting sweater and skirt to Hanako’s ethereal-like movements and light, loose-fitting clothing further emphasises the idea of transformation and re-births in the face of tragedy in order to live a fulfilled life.

Tsuyoshi Hisakado‘s set design is simply ingenious, with the three actors spending virtually the entirety of the show on the far left hand side of the stage with a table and a few chairs as props. The rest of the space is adorned with fans, various lighting structures and other miscellany that build on the idea of timelessness, and along with Norimasa Ushikawa‘s sound direction and Tomomi Ohira‘s lighting design, create an environment of reflection and introspection while allowing us to follow the narrative on stage.

Time’s Journey Through a Room is an entrancing performance where you will both find yourself slipping into the moments that are being so vividly described on stage or allowing them to trigger memories of your own. Its exploration of hope is beautifully captured and gently insists we consider a different perspective when tragedy occurs.

Venue: Arts House, 521 Queensberry St, North Melbourne
Season: Until 12 February | Sat 7:30pm, Sun 5pm
Tickets: $45 Full | $35 Conc | $30 Student
Bookings: Arts House

Image by Bryony Jackson

Cabaret, Festivals, Review

Midsumma Festival 2017: BABY GOT BACK

It’s all about the bass

By Myron My

It’s time to honour the ass with this year’s Midsumma Festival show Baby Got Back. This one-hour burlesque-circus-performance art all-female homage to the derrière is an uninhibited celebration of woman. Slut-shaming or any degradation of women – whether by males or females – is not permitted here, where women are able to take pride in and control of their own bodies. Burlesque performers and producers of Baby Got Back, Vesper White and Frankie Valentine, ensure their show empowers women while entertaining the audience with some creative and ingenious performances.

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The show begins strongly with a montage of scenes from various cartoons, movies and social media clips of bums, which is a great reminder of how the human posterior has been used and perceived by society. The opening performance has three artists appear wearing elaborate monstrous “pussy” cat costumes, wearing large heart-shaped collars branded with “dyke” on one, “slut” on another and “whore” on the third. By the end of the performance, these collars are ripped of and from there, it’s a no-holds-barred booty-focused revelry.

Joining Vesper and Frankie on the stage are fellow burlesque performers Miss Jane Doe and 2016 Miss Burlesque Australia Bella de Jac. Rolling out the cast is our mischievous MC, Sydney’s Queen of Crude Memphis Mae, who ensures that the performers and the audience behave themselves – to an extent. Through her hilarious powers of persuasion she is even able to work up the entire crowd to get them to participate in “The Great Mooning”.

While all the acts have a strong push for body positivity, there are some that succeed in doing this better than other acts. The skipping-rope performance involving Doe, de Jac and White has a simultaneous air of childhood innocence – before women are bombarded with societal expectations on how they should look or present themselves – with a sense of liberation and rebelliousness in having these naked bodies be embraced and admired. The cheeky re-imagining of Celine Dion’s chart topping ballad “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now” is another highlight of the show, with its rich mix of humour and feminism.

Reminiscent of a Finucane and Smith show, Baby Got Back is also savvy enough to find the right balance of entertainment while pushing its message. Through its burlesque, comedy, circus, puppetry and dance, it encourages women to love their bodies and seeks to create an environment where women from all backgrounds can be accepted and free to be themselves.

Baby Got Back was performed at The Melba Spiegeltent between 2 – 4 February 2017.