Things to do when you're thirty

Every once in a while I get obsessed. I have the make up of a zealot so let's all consider ourselves lucky that I am in no way religious, new wave, politically conservative nor radically active.

For my thirtieth birthday last November I received two gifts in particular that alluded to my obsessive nature. I was given me a turntable and a first pressing of The White Album, coincidentally released exactly 10 years before I was born. My parents gave me a mixmaster. Pastry and LPs ensued.

It seems that last year I was briefly obsessed with blogging - and now in the cold, sober light of the morning I've looked over what happened here and am in amazement and wonder. You were there, and you were there.

I am humbled by what occurred when I flippantly began to publicly rant. When I reconsider the spirit in which this venture was born and the state of mind I am now in, I think I have this little pastime to thank in no small part. I was reengaged with the performance scene in a way that hasn't been the case for years. I had a voice and an opinion that seemed to be held in some regard. And the voice, at least shall continue, comrades. 

Last year during the fringe I had a wonderful, spirited, challenging, honest and generous exchange with Marcel, the director of 'There' which I had every intention of publishing as I believe in a right of reply, but the moment seems to have passed. Marcel will be the first to be invited to review my next work, and I will invite him to published it here. 

I saw a few more things at the end of last year, things which uplifted and confounded me as much as anything else last year, but again, the moment has passed.

Oh, and there was a delightful evening of Throwies.

So, there are many things I am seeing this year. There are many things I am looking forward to seeing. My own work will, at some stage, be a part of the mix.

And if there's anyone still interested out there: ta.  

Teasing my Fringe

I've now dipped my toe into the waters of the fringe. I've only seen a couple of things thus far. I will see more, really, I will. Although nothing like what Born Dancin' has committed himself to. What is this, an extreme sport? Jesus.

Blinkers 

Devised and Performed by Natalie Medlock and Dan Musgrove.

Directed by Sophie Roberts

Festival Hub, Meeting Room, Arts House

26 Sept. - 11 Oct.

I'm not really sure what drew me to this in the first place. It really was on a whim that I went. I liked their publicity image. I liked the promise of something that sounded a little like Perec's 'Life: A User's Manual'. This was bafflingly charming, and it's not a backhanded compliment, it's rather like the human species - you know, deeply flawed but likeable. I don't want to be mean here, there is a lot to like and there is a lot that is worth supporting here - young artists making their own work, international artists putting themselves on the line to get to the Fringe. And hell, its $16 that could be much much worse spent. 

There just isn't a lot to talk about. Natalie Medlock played a wonderful character who truly was bordering between caricature and pathos. Her accent was obtrusive but so much so that I began to feel as if it was an affectation of her character, in which case it was quite a feat, if not it was a bad accent. Dan Musgrove was a caricature. Despite promising to be something more, it wound up conforming to a conservative structure and story. The two young performers are really promising though. And good for them - creating their own show and bringing it here. That sounded really patronising and I didn't intend for it to be so. I mean it. 

Diatribe

It is a wee bit of a testament to the show that I wound up thinking about the venue a little too much. It's on at the Meeting Room of North Melbourne Town Hall. Now: this place gets kitted out for the Fringe, as does Trades Hall for the Comedy Festival, and this in theory is no bad thing. Fringe needs a hub, and young international artists such as these need a place like this to know they'll be on where the action is and not in some enterprising person's garage in Glenroy. There is just something so... perfunctory about the way it's set up. It's run with great spirit largely, as I understand, by volunteers and this is not the problem, in fact it contributes to what atmosphere there is, absolutely. I just felt that a show, particularly like this, would have benefited from a more interesting space. Something warm and quirky, something as charming as the performers were. And the way the rooms are set up at North Melbourne Town Hall is totally devoid of any character or charm. A few lights, a rig of scaff holding them up, a couple of speakers - on stage pointing straight at us, and blacks surrounding the space. It's unimaginative. I've never seen something that benefits from a set up like this. It's alright for comedy. But for the Fringe? Isn't the Fringe all about quirk and peculiarity? I just think it was cheaply and rather cynically done. They pack shows in there, in what is a curated season, in the Fringe which prides itself on not being curated, charge them I'm not sure what, possibly very little, maybe they do run at a loss, I'm not sure - but to me it isn't worth it. Some rooms of the Lithuanian Club has character. The Meat Market has character. 

I remember seeing Suitcase Royale's 'Chronicles of a Sleepless Moon' in a room like this at Trades Hall during Fringe. And it did nothing for them, they were working so hard to bring their atmosphere to the room and they kind of pulled it off - but they're Suitcase Royale goddamn it, they have so much stuff that they can bring. For a show like Blinkers, it just looked a bit drab. 

 

Whew. Sorry about the rant. Ahem. Yes. Anyway...

The Correction Tour

Devised and Performed by Nathan Little and Amy Bodossian aka Bad Father

Glitch Bar

27, 28 Sept. & 8, 9 & 13 Oct.

This is something. It goes on for a bit too long and its a bit underdeveloped and underdirected but it's really funny, just often enough to make it worth it. And its bizarre. And I've never seen or heard of these two before. And I liked them a lot. 

I would have preferred it if they steered away from the comedy a bit more and really went for something. I think they were headed there (there's a wonderful clip of Peter Finch from Paddy Chayefski's 'Network' played for the dramatic value I think, which was great to see and reminded me of how much I'd like to see that film again and also of how much Peter Finch at his age then reminds me of Albert  Finney now. Incedently, 'Network' was Peter Finch's final film - except for something made for TV in which he played Yitzhak Rabin - what a coupla swan songs!).  And I would have preferred it if a particularly sketch comedy-esque video weren't in it. But on the whole its a really fun thing to see. Kind of Boosh, kind of Conchords, kind of Die Roten Punkte and strangely kind of Forced Entertainment on the surface and I suspect completely unintentionally, although it could have benefited from the kind of deconstructivism manifest in Forced Entertainment and was kind of close at moments. 

You'll have fun if you go. Although I just noticed its only on like five times. Jesus, that's not much. Okay, so go. I think these two will be something soon and then you can be the one saying that you saw them in a funny little place in Fitzroy. And you'll be awesome. And everyone else will be awestruck. And you'll win.

Review: Vamp

Vamp
by Meow Meow and Iain Grandage, directed by Michael Kantor, musical direction by Iain Grandage.
Malthouse Theatre and Sydney Opera House @ the Merlyn Theatre, CUB Malthouse until September 20. Sydney Opera House, September 24-October 5.
Bookings: (03) 9685 5111, (02) 9250 7777

I saw Vamp on Thursday night. I have a feeling it's going to divide us, hoo-boy, how exciting. In fact, it has already done so perhaps.
Before glancing upon my ill-thought-out nonsense, one is advised to peruse the vastly superior musings of Ms. Croggon.

Now, I am a director. I am involved in theatre and cabaret. I am the goddamned target audience of piece such as this. I am an urbane young hipster. I have a beard. I am bald, however, so that's a draw-back.
Thus let us begin: Vamp is stunning musically, but I had trouble with it as a whole. Meow Meow is such a great performer. I left, however, wondering whether I would have preferred the show to be just her and a piano. Without all the flotsam. Now, there's a part of me that was thoroughly seduced by the world of Vamp. There's also a part of me that gets a thrill when classical references land, a plethora here from Wilde's Salome to Pabst's Pandora's Box (with the ultimate vamp - Louise Brooks). But these satisfactions are brief, placatory and somewhat vacuous. They also render a piece somewhat critic proof methinks. (You know... Emperor's New Clothes and all that - who wants to be the one leaving themselves open to 'you didn't get it's? This wide-eyed chump, that's who.)

There is an aspect of the Vamp that Meow Meow thoroughly inhabits. Her control of the audience is total, despotic, maniacal and hugely entertaining. This is not, however, anything new for her. That's what she does. And it's awesome. But here I was expecting promises to be delivered. And there was all too little tragedy, vulnerability, and victimhood. It existed in the content perhaps, but wasn't inhabited by the performance. There must be a flip-side. I was aching for some kind of real collapse, such as Faye Dunaway's sister / daughter revelation in Chinatown, some kind of honest exploration of the Vamp as both manifestation and victim of a morally corrupt society gone to seed. There was never a true sense of collapse. I knew that she was in control every single moment.
Is this a directorial problem? Partly, perhaps. But I think it's indicative of a larger issue, that there seemed to be no centre to this. It was wheeling about without an orbit. It wasn't her show, it wasn't Kantor's show, it fell between the cracks. The theatre and spectacle brought nothing to her performance and she brought nothing to the theatre of the piece.
There are a couple of moments that I loved and would liked to have seen more of, including some stillness and vulnerability during a Radiohead number (she still had to clamber over someone and exert her control in order to express her vulnerability - but it worked. And, oh, those lyrics: 'If I could be who you wanted...'). Also, the dance of the seven veils worked on that same level, but her previous (performative - yes) insistence upon applause destroyed what could have been a marvelous, quiet, awkward moment of her failing. But by that point, the audience were oh-so-keen to please her that the moment was not served.
I think what left me somewhat bereft was that the wonderful content was not matched by the performance and the form. And that the performer and the form had not informed the content. I got the feeling that Meow Meow trusted neither the content or the audience to 'get it', and I know, I know that is a part of her character - so again I say 'critic proof'.
I don't really know who this show was for, or from. This is a problem of under-development I'd hazard to guess. Which is frustrating as there are so many theatre-makers, who can garner support to do not much else but develop material, and then there are these strange hybrid pieces that have resources spewed at them that strive towards a concept without any cohesion, honesty or symbiosis.
But that's just me.