Daylight Saving: Unrealised Potential

Daylight Saving

Tempo Theatre Inc

10-25 May 2014

Every autumn when the clocks go back (if you live in the half of Australia in which they do), you get a ‘free’ hour. What do you do with it? And if something happens in that magical in-between time, does it really happen? These are questions which are raised in Nick Enright’s Daylight Saving, or should be.

Felicity (Rina Ornorato) owns a successful restaurant but is unhappy in love as her husband, Tom (Bill Kolentsis), neglects her in favour of the young tennis-player, Jason Strutt (John Brennan), whom he manages. When Tom abandons Felicity on their wedding anniversary, she sets up a romantic assignation with Joshua (Jason Morton) an old flame, over for a brief visit from America. The planned candlelit dinner, however, is constantly interrupted by her busy-body mother, Bunty (Joan White), and their nosy neighbour, Stephanie (Nicky Lyn Hunter).

As the seeds of deception are sown and the resulting confusion is reaped, the action resembles a French farce, with conservative morality winning through. The pace is too slow as though the actors are favouring clear diction (and every word is clearly heard) to speedy delivery. This becomes a problem as the reason for the dissatisfaction in Felicity and Tom’s marriage is that they haven’t got time for one another, which isn’t portrayed in this somewhat staid version, directed by Michael Weston.

As well as lack of pace, there is also a sameness of tone, so the stakes of involvement don’t seem high enough. Felicity is potentially about to discard a marriage in favour of a fling, but this isn’t given the magnitude it deserves; there is no distinction between her annoyance at an uninvited dinner-guest, and her frustration that husband doesn’t love her. She does well, however, to try and maintain the cut and thrust between her prospective suitors – it takes three to tango in this instance, and unfortunately both Kolentsis and Morton are rather leaden-footed.

The play has wonderful minor characters, and Hunter and White revel in their roles. Hunter brings a neurotic lack of awareness to the insensitive Stephanie with swift movements to match her snap judgements. White, meanwhile, imbues Bunty with an equally oblivious calm and threatens to steal the scene with her assured authority. Brennan has the whiny teenager shtick down pat, but his stooped posture and slouching gait are ill-fitting with his supposed athletic prowess as Jason Strutt – the clue should be in the name.

Much mention is made in the text of the beautiful moon, romantic light and the Pittwater (Sydney North Shore) location, but very little of this is evident in the setting. The view of the patio and outdoor area is limited, and it would have helped to hear the sound of the waves to heighten the ambience. The staging is purely functional and misses an opportunity to be atmospheric. The moon and tides are said to affect hormones, and yet they are timeless and inevitable. The performance of this play is solid if not spectacular, and the dream-like potential of daylight saving remains unrealised.

Friday Five: Meaningless Mnemonics

This weekend Daylight Saving ends in some parts of Australia (not the whole country, you understand; that would make a little too much sense), so our clocks will go back. In England, British Summer Time began last weekend, so their clocks went forward. I have a link on my computer which I check to tell me what the time is where so I don't have to remember whether it is a feasible hour to call family who happen to be in different time zones. 

Apparently there is a useful mnemonic to help remember which way to wind the clocks (although, of course, you should always wind analogue clocks forwards): spring forwards; fall back. I don't really like this handy reminder, not just because it's American (I concede that 'spring forwards; autumn back' doesn't make a lot of sense), but because it isn't exactly definitive. If you're me (which I am) you can just as easily fall forwards and spring back, so I feel none the wiser.

And, naturally, this brings me to a whole heap of 'useful' mnemonics. One that has always annoyed me is (another American culprit, I'm afraid) 'In Fourteen Hundred and Ninety Two, Columbus sailed the ocean blue'. Yes, it rhymes, and it scans, but then so would anything ending in two, and going 'de dum de dum de dum dum', so it's not spectacularly helpful. 

Likewise the one about the months - you know: 'Thirty days has something-ember, one two-syllable month, another one-syllable month and another month ending in ember; all the rest have thirty-one except February alone, and that has twenty-eight days clear, and twenty-nine in each leap year.' Which one of September, November or December is the one that doesn't have the thirty? Is April, July or August the two-syllable month, and which out of March, May, and June is the one-syllable month with the thirty days? See, not particularly enlightening.

There is one to remember the geological eras or epochs or periods or ages or whatever they're called, which is more trouble than it's worth. I like the sentiment: 'Pregnant Camels Often Sit Down Carefully. Perhaps Their Joints Creak. Possibly Early Oiling Might Prevent Premature Rheumatism.' While I do feel a level of concern for these poor camels, there are too many similar starting letters for me to recall which era/ epoch/ period/ age is which and I only remember that J indicates Jurassic, which I probably knew anyway. 

The meteorological mnemonic of 'red sky at night; shepherd's delight - red sky in the morning; sailors' warning' is permanently muddled in my memory by my brother who told me it was, 'red sky at night; shepherd's pie - red sky in the morning; steak and kidney pudding'. And yes, I did believe him. After watching the 1989 film, We're No Angels starring Sean Penn and Robert de Niro, I learned the correct way to cross yourself was 'spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch', but I have only ever had occasion to use this when on stage.

I quite like the 'Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived' version of history which deals quite nicely with Henry VIII's wives, but it doesn't necessarily help me to remember their names, only their outcomes. However, there are a few (five, funnily enough) that I have found worth-while.

5 Useful Mnemonics:

1. Every Good Boy Deserves Fun (for the notes on the lines of a treble clef)
2. Never Eat Shredded Wheat (the points of the compass in clockwise order)
3. Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally (the order in which mathematical equations should be approached: parentheses; exponents; multiplication; division; arithmetic; subtraction)
4. Stalactites hang tight to the ceiling while stalagmites might one day reach the ceiling (Incidentally, Him Outdoors learned that 'tights fall down' but then he is a boy and he does come from near Nora Batty land).
5. Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain (for the colours of the rainbow - red; orange; yellow; green; blue; indigo; violet. Many killjoys scientists have since argued that indigo isn't actually in the rainbow, but that makes a mess of the mnemonic, so until they make up a good new one, I'm keeping it in)

If it's good enough for Bungle, George and Zippy, it's good enough for me!