'Tell me a story'; 'I don't want to give you nightmares'

A Most Outrageous Humbug, Three Spoon Theatre
Downstage Theatre, 29 April – 7 May

The opening gambit of A Most Outrageous Humbug sets the scene for the entire play. Artfully designed piles of books and sombre mood lighting (Marcus McShane) form the backdrop to Edgar Allan Poe’s parents’, Elizabeth (Jean Sergent) and David (Adam Donald) ferocious and theatrical argument which ends in tears and blood.

Top hats, velvet waistcoats, silk cravats hoop skirts, and fortified corsets (gorgeously designed by Dawa Devereux) hint at the constriction of fierce passions. Meanwhile the scenario is underpinned by Tane Upjohn Beatson at the piano with its exposed hammers and strings playing dramatic, morose music. This promises to be an American Gothic Romance with dark undercurrents of violence and passion, and boy, does it deliver.

Told through a mix of Poe’s essays, poems and stories woven with imagined events, the play purports to be a biography of the man. As a lesson to anyone who ever wants to know how much of an author’s work is biographical – it’s simply impossible to know. Three Spoon Theatre under the direction of Charlotte Bradley have created a work which shows a man spiralling into madness and sabotaging his entire literary career, loosing himself in stories and wine. You might just as well worry about their state of mind.

Edgar Allan Poe became an orphan at two, the inference being he had no early stabilising factors in his life. Driven by thronging passion – ‘his ardour was matched only by his ambition’ – he hoped academia might rein in his wild excesses. We are told this by Thomas McGrath narrating as Poe from the sidelines, becoming increasingly involved in the action as the play progresses. The play both shows and tells with Ralph McCubbin Howell acting as Poe throughout.

Poe writes every moment available between his studies to the detriment of them both, and becomes romantically involved with Frances Osgood (Adrianne Roberts). His rival in love and literature is the ‘sweaty and creepy but persistent and rich’ Rufus Griswold (Ed Watson). Poe may be ‘talented and passionate’ but he also has a wild disregard for propriety reflected in his appearance. Howell plays him as explosive, which leaves him with nowhere to go as his tempo is feverish from the beginning.

The journey into madness is marked by a number of well-scripted scenes. There is a poetry reading between Poe and Griswold at which Griswold suggests ‘The ladies will enjoy our academic duelling’. There is Poe’s peculiarly abstract proposal to his 13-year-old cousin Virginia ‘Sissy’ Eliza Celmm (played with wide-eyed gaucheness by Alex Lodge) using his macabre stories as a form of courtship – ‘I liked your poetry better’. Sissy’s amusing wittering suits the young girl’s naivety, but her chilly defence is a little modern – ‘I may not be an adult, but at least I’m not a prat.’

There is the costume party book launch at which Elmira Shelton (Jean Sergent) dresses as the author – is it a sincere form of flattery or grist to his burgeoning paranoia? Meanwhile a mysterious hooded figure, seen only by Sissy, stalks the party, which cannot bode well. In orchestrated breaks from the party, guests partner up into formal dance and corpses return to life.

As Poe reads his stories we are frequently deceived into questioning what is reality and given unheralded glimpses into his manic mind. ‘What a gift to tap into the psyche of a blood-thirsty psycho so effortlessly’. He applies for an editing position only to be interviewed by characters from his short story Doctor Tarr (Adam Donald) and Professor Fether (Jean Sergent) in a show-stealing scene.

This is a brilliantly written script and hangs so tightly together that it is hard to believe it was devised collaboratively. The colours of red (the consumptive blood that claims so many characters) black (the raven feather; the relentless gloom) and white (the purity and innocence of Sissy; the bleached bones of his tales) are woven into the tapestry of the narrative. Death unifies all from his mother’s untimely demise to his own wrestling with himself (literally) in the final scene. It’s not exactly joyful, but it is triumphant, and a worthy inclusion in the Pick of the Fringe.

A Multicultural Melting Pot

Poly-zygotic (Pick of the Fringe), F.I.T. Productions
Downstage Theatre, 29 April – 7 May

The other day some friends and I were pondering what we did to entertain ourselves before the techno-You Tube generation. We all admitted we made up skits which we forced our parents and elderly neighbours to come and see, as we performed song and dance routines, ‘gymnastics’ (at best a handstand and a forward roll) puppet shows, or, at a push, poetry.

It seems that is also what happens in Poly-Zygotic as Samoan triplets Aso (Taofi Mose-Tuiloma), Tausaga (Asalem Tofete) and Masin (Tupe Lualua) work out what to perform for Lotu a Tamaiti or Children’s Day. The programme notes explain (to those, such as I, who need the explanation) that on this day the church is filled with people dressed in white, and children perform for their parents and relatives by reciting tauloto (bible verses), singing, or performing creative dances and dramas.

The show comprises the three arguing what they will present to their audience, while worrying that other groups will be better than theirs. As the eldest by an all important 21 seconds, Tusaga thinks he should make all the decisions, despite the ridicule of his sisters. Tofete beautifully captures the shyness behind the bravado when he unveils a routine he has been working on for two years (‘It better not be a trilogy!’). The sisters dismiss it as less like Black Grace and more of a disgrace, but in truth the three move with fluid charm and poise.

Similarly to Neil Ieremia, they decry the stereotypes, refusing to do anything about gangs or violence or ‘the pathetic angel who rescues them and sets them on the right path.’ They have already done all the best bible tales, so what will they do? Has every story been told already? And where will they find their own voice? As each of the siblings struggles for supremacy, this is clearly a question that has troubled them since birth. Masina explains their relationship when she points out that one of these things is not like the other things, and quotes her father who used to say, ‘You are nothing alike but just as ugly as each other.’ Without parents, they are co-dependent and the genuine affection is only barely masked by the simmering rivalry.

A zgote is a basic cell, containing all the genetic information necessary for a new organism. The fact that they are many (poly) leads us to expect a multitude of influences, and that is exactly what we get in this play. There are myriad cultural references, from the American hip-hop and reality TV to the multi-faceted ‘Fever’ sequence. Mose-Tuiloma’s sensual singing in a spot-light evokes the Hindu God and Lord of the Dance while Lualua enacts Bollywood dance-moves in silhouette behind a very Samoan tapa cloth.

There is a touch of stereotype as the three actors play the exquisite ‘aunties’, who observe and comment on themselves as the triplets. Either standing outside the church bitching and smoking, or sitting inside (with dextrous handling of deckchairs) fanning themselves and wearing hats, they talk in realistic rhythms of family histories and community scandals.

This is a rich production full of music, movement and laughter. The actors seem to enjoy themselves as much as the audience – which is always a good sign. Poly-zygotic represents the melting pot of multiculturalism while retaining the individuality of nationhood. It’s a delight.

Turbine - whatever turns you on

Turbine, SEEyD Theatre Company
Downstage Theatre, February 13 – March 7

‘We’re the Saudi Arabia of wind!’ is a pretty appealing tag-line for anyone who lives in Wellington. Turbine presents the ‘for and against’ opinions about wind-power, which is meant to represent all the angles and spark heated debate among theatre patrons.

SEEyD Theatre Company is known for this approach and has previously brought their ‘issues based theatre’ style to many a topic including immunisation, poaching, genetic modification and spiritualism.

You either like this style or you don’t – there are bare bones of plot on which to hang the flesh of the arguments and you are meant to make up your own mind about the resolution because the play won’t provide one for you. Some consider this a provocative challenge; others deem it to be a lazy cop-out.

The problem with Turbine is that there seems to be no counter argument. The people who protest against wind power are simply Nimbys and are made to look ridiculous through speech impediments, or inadequate internet-based research. They worry about things that might never happen and, in personalising their concerns, they try to preserve something that has already gone. Nostalgia is not always a good thing.

There are myriad possibilities as to what the unleashed power sources could provide, but for ease of viewing they are distilled into two potential outcomes. In a great piece of theatrical interpretation we are allowed a glimpse of good and bad future – exactly the same lines spoken by the same characters but with a very different inflection resulting in disparate meaning.

One of the highlights of the staging is the white board walls on which members of the cast draw and erase various energy related paraphernalia. Trees are cut down (with power tools) to make way for the wind turbines. While some consider these to be blots on the landscape, I think they are beautiful. The ones gracefully emerging Venus-like from the water off the Danish and Norwegian coasts are fabulous.

But the toasters, kettles, computers, microwaves and ovens that we use in our daily are all ugly. So will we abandon them; of course not. We want these things, but we don’t want to have to think about the moral implications of their presence. We need power. (I expect a future SEEyD production to focus on the necessity and availability of fresh water.) Individual wants are pitted against the common good in an almost capitalism vs. socialism debate.

The main characters are a mother named Gail (Emma Kinane) struggling to look after her autistic son Ariel (Tim Spite) while her irascible daughter, Susan (Lee Smith-Gibbons) also lives at home. Into the not-so-happy-home comes Mark (Nick Dunbar) who works for the power company responsible for the proposed turbines and takes a shine to Susan. The actors also play various other peripheral characters, and they do it very well, but there is no cohesive story.

If it is meant to be a love-story, it is highly implausible that the suave Mark (who is neither a hero nor a villain, which he could so easily have become) should be interested in the narrow-minded Susan. Smith-Gibbons plays her perfectly, hiding her insecurity and lack of substance (the type who gets a tattoo in the small of her back as a substitute for personality) behind a façade of constant confrontation, and thinks she’s tough because she writes erotic fiction. Incidentally her characterisation of the more rational and intellectual judge is very good and helps demonstrate her acting range.

If it’s a study of parenting under trying circumstances, then I would have liked this to be further explored. Emma Kinane does an excellent job of portraying the long-suffering mother with a warmth and compassion verging on frustration. I wanted to know about this exasperated character trying to pursue her own life amidst the love and pain involved with raising a demanding son who doesn’t adapt well to change.

Tim Spite plays the autistic young man with a range of personality tics and physical twitches. In a demanding juxtaposition he also plays his own father with a hard and brutally rebuffing edge. The balance could be in his favour as a disability is thrown in so we are automatically on his side, or are we? He is an unpleasant character with his verbal and physical attacks and his excessive horniness – it’s never comfortable watching someone dry hump a cushion.

Spite the writer is as unafraid to push boundaries as Spite the actor. One of Smith-Gibbons’ characters is Maggie, a glasses-wearing, lisping, epileptic protestor. Ariel causes her to have a seizure on stage by repeatedly flicking the light switch on and off due to some element of compulsive disorder. Judging by the laughter from the auditorium, this is comic, but who decides that epilepsy is funny?

Apparently we, the audience, do, as we decide everything else about this play, and consequently our futures. Good, challenging stuff. There is a role for trial by theatre, and if SEEyD Theatre Company are judge and jury, we are executioner.

Opening Night

Tonight is the opening night of Necessary Targets. Naturally, I am nervous. Hence this is a very short post. If you're in Wellington, come and see it; if you're not then you won't be able to. I'll let you know how it goes.

In the meantime, I manged to take a night out from rehearsals last week and went to see Strange Resting Places at Downstage, which combines Māori and Italian culture and song. It was well-worth seeing and is going on tour around the country - it's been up in Auckland and is heading to the Festival of Colour. I would recommend catching that too, if you can.

Theatre briefs

I’ve seen some very varied shows in the last month or so. This time of year brings out some gems, and some garbage. Fortunately, the theatre I’ve seen has been more at the diamond than the rough end of the scale.

Backyard Productions put on Summer Shorts at the Gryphon Theatre which was a selection of five short plays with varied themes and a high caliber of acting. The Look of Love at Downstage is Jennifer Ward-Leland’s take on a range of love songs from writers such as George Harrison, Irving Berlin, Rodgers and Hart, Stephen Sondheim, John Lennon, Jacques Brel, and Burt Bacharach.

I also saw the fabulous play The Little Dog Laughed at Downstage, which was everything good theatre should be – I was entertained, amused, provoked and inspired. It may well be a contender for the best play I have seen this year. Here are the highlights:

The plot – a gay male actor (Mitchell) and his lesbian agent (Diane) pose as a couple for the sake of the press. He has made his career on playing rugged action heroes and it won’t do either of their bank accounts any good for him to come out now.

He has a penchant for rent boys but starts a relationship with one (Alex) which threatens to blow his cover (I apologize for the terrible pun). Alex has a girlfriend (Ellen) who discovers his betrayal, although she can hardly complain as she has been prostituting herself for a sugar daddy. This is what passes for relationships in Hollywood.

Themes – theatre versus film – a rich seam of material is well and truly mined. When Diane pitches her idea to a screenwriter, it becomes apparent that the play is not as straight-forward as it seemed. There will be changes. How far would you go for money and is your reputation worth keeping if it’s based on lie?

The set (Daniel Williams) – a minimalist backdrop against which the Hollywood letters are strewn across the stage to become variously a drinks cabinet; a sun-lounger; and a bed. They are adapted and altered with a realism that makes them functional as well as decorative.

The acting – uniformly excellent. Small casts can sometimes make you wish to see another actor to break things up. With this ensemble you simply can’t get enough of them, baby.

Mitchell – Richard Knowles; it’s tough to play an actor playing an actor, but he pulls it off (apologies again) running the whole gamut of emotions through his relationship with Alex from anger, passion, denial, resistance, control and tenderness. His Tom Cruise smile and boyish enthusiasm is far from accidental.

Diane – Renee Sheridan; a slick bitch exuding glamour and insincerity. Her character is meant to be from New York although her accent is still stuck in the Deep South from her previous outing as Blanche DuBois. She is perfectly calculating and manipulative, never allowing feelings to get in the way of a good deal; exploiting the personal for the public attention, but never allowing the paparazzi to see the whole story.

Alex – Kip Chapman; I last saw him playing a totally different all-American role in The American Pilot and this proves his spectacular talent. His outré role-playing disguises his deep insecurity and when he falls for Mitchell the vulnerability is more raw and confronting than any amount of nudity or homosexual displays of affection (and there are plenty of those too).

Ellen – Sophie Hambleton; her portrayal of shallow, material and vacuous is superb. Although her anger at her betrayal is justified and well-acted, she knew what she was getting herself into. Her haircut may recall Katie Holmes but her righteous indignation recalls Diana, so-called Princess of Hearts.

These are some of the theatre stories of the week:

New version of West Side Story

Actor hurt by stage knife

The state of theatre in America

The second story has since been discredited, but what a great conspiracy theory while it ran! Among my fellow actors, there was talk of little else… Of course, that’s not true either but so what, since when did that matter?