Art Smitten

Phil Rouse decides to introduce his production of The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui with a very peculiar sight: some slides of Elizabethan text hover above our very skilled ensemble as they are all club dancing to ‘Turn Down for What.’ It’s one of those audacious mixes of the highbrow classical and the lowbrow modern that the theatre world can never get enough of. Arturo Ui (played here by George Banders), the fictional Chicagoan crime lord, is of course Bertolt Brecht’s parodic and blatantly allegorical version of Adolf Hitler, rendered comprehensible for an American audience in 1941. Since the play took 22 years to make it to Broadway, it has only ever been performed in front of already well-versed audiences, and never as an introductory education on the history of Nazi Germany. Before they’ve even sat down, this 2016 Australian audience will already hate the infamous dictator just as much as the play’s 1963 American audience would have, but their prior knowledge of Brecht and Epic theatre will be less certain. In this production, Rouse bombards the audience with countless lines of text for the same purpose that Brecht once did: to give the audience all the facts they need to follow the allegory and understand his message, without being “distracted” by the fictional story he is telling. In contemporary theatre making this is known as heavy-handedness, but in the 1920s the idea of using theatre to shamelessly recruit people as political activists was a novel and exciting one. However, even today Rouse gets away with it by embracing this style of alienating the audience from the pathos of the story, and by having his own anti-right wing political agenda to parade around. The text on the screen and a handful of throwaway lines make it abundantly clear that Donald Trump is the politician he is truly taking aim at, with the original Hitler allegory itself becoming an allegory for a much more contemporary issue. There is also another, much more subtle comparison made between the Great Depression and the Global Financial Crisis, which interestingly is pulled off without the assistance of the fact slides. However, there are times when the three story levels, one literal and two allegorical, feel like they are about to crumble in and collapse on one another. It was also a questionable choice in the otherwise sound set design by Martelle Hunt to put the screen so high above the actors. Much of the opening dance sequence and character introductions will likely go unseen by audience members who are reading the opening text, and likewise, many important pieces of text shown throughout the production will go unread since there is rarely anything to direct people’s attention all the way up there. This is why Brecht would project his text at the back of the stage, so that it was always in view. Also, despite all the text, the self-aware jokes and the intentional breaking of character, there is one Brechtian technique that Rouse uses only very sparingly: bright lighting. There is a brief moment where the entire theatre is strongly illuminated and an awkward false curtain call plays out, but, for the most part, Rob Sowinski and Bryn Cullen’s lighting design is surprisingly traditional, putting the audience at a very comfortable distance and ultimately making the viewing experience too passive for this sort of material. Part of the intention of a show like this is to disorientate the audience, to pull them out of the story and keep the focus on the message, but until the very end of the play, the message within the message tends to make the space outside the story just as murky as the story itself. Fortunately though, each time both the narrative and its social significance become unstable, there are always the characters to fall back on. One of Brecht’s greatest inconsistencies was that, despite his frequent postulations on the importance of emotional distance, he had an irrepressible knack for writing vivid and endearing characters. Here we have the ruthless Ernesto Roma (Peter Paltos), Ui’s tough mentor in crime who turned a spineless common thief into a deadly rabble-rouser with the nerve to eventually kill him. In a “parable play” that draws heavily on Shakespeare, and even goes as far as flat-out copying a few scenes from Richard III, Roma, and his real life counterpart Ernst Röhm, are both the Banquo and the Lady Macbeth in Ui and Hitlers’ origin stories. Paltos not only masters his menacing presence, but, with the right makeup on, he also happens to look a lot like Laurence Olivier. Of course, the other standout characterisation here is Ui himself. Banders certainly has the right stuff and isn’t afraid to get up close and personal with the audience while in character. He consciously breaks the fourth wall in a glorious moment of theatrical self-reference and, in one scene, he impressively manages a dexterous run through the audience. Thanks to the talents of Banders, Paltos, Brecht and Rouse, the great anti-hero and his seedy keeper have a life beyond the confines of the allegories, something they probably weren’t supposed to have in theory, but in practice is really what allows this piece to work as a two-hour play. Written by Christian Tsoutsouvas.

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On Thursday night I showed up at La Mama ready to see The Ribcage Collective’s new work of experimental theatre. The Ribcage collective are a collaborative group of young theatre makers from varied theatrical backgrounds. For a second year running they have written, devised and performed works of immersive, sight-specific theatre at La Mama in Carlton. Their previous show was described by ArtsHub as “an intimate theatrical experience enough to reawaken a childhood sense of play”. That sounded pretty good to me. At the beginning of the evening we found out the recent arts funding cuts had just forced the closure of Platform Youth Theatre, the organisation that had brought these performers together. The kind of theatre we were about to see – youth-driven, experimental – is becoming harder and harder to make, even though it seems essential that young people have opportunities ambition, funded work. The show was based around a new Australian myth written by the group. It followed a family through three generations and a lot of hardship – from earth to hell and back again. The myth was told by a woman dressed as the sun; a “very wordy sun” as my viewing companion put it. The sun was so wordy that neither of us were able to follow the story, although that didn’t necessarily matter, we were told, because the three acts that made up the bulk of the work were also designed to be experienced separately. The audience was split into two, each group led by a guide through three site-specific pieces. The stories were vivid, each with a unique sense of place and drama. In one, a woman seems to be drowning in a bath of silver while another woman looks on, calmly smoking a cigarette. In another, a brother and sister quarrel as they are trapped in their dead fathers home. In my favourite story, a young boy philosophises with his fish, only to find the fish has come alive and is gyrating on his bed in a slinky dress. All of the stories had a great sense of playfulness and surprise. Moments like the fish coming alive, or a woman being dunked in silver liquid, were thrilling to watch. The spaces – some more ‘traditional’ than others, were cleverly used. A hole in the ceiling of one space allowed the silver liquid to be dunked secretly, a decrepit staircase became a dramatic entrance way. Some moments in the piece did feel little heavy-handed. Metaphors were either obvious – a chain is passed from actor to actor ‘linking’ the 3 pieces together – or too abstract and complex to be accessible. “What did the silver stuff mean?” someone asked later. Talking to audience members afterwards, there was a general sense of confusion – what did that mean? How did the stories link together? We couldn’t figure it out. It was a relief to slip into the Q+A session afterwards and find a panel of enthusiastic performers keen to answer our questions. It because clear how much thought had gone into every element – the metaphors may have been confusing, but that wasn’t because they lacked depth. Hearing the performers talk afterwards somehow made the work as a whole more enjoyable for me. Their thoughtfulness and passion redeemed the show’s weaker moments. It was during the Q+A that I realised we were in the company of a school group: young girls about to go into Year 12 drama. They asked about the world beyond high school plays and the performers willingly shared their knowledge. It was the innocent being led by the less innocent, a charming moment slightly overshadowed by the recent funding cuts. One performer said “There aren’t many opportunities left, so you’ve really got to put yourself out there.” Another chimed in “but if you do, you will find people willing to help.” And, if there is hope that courageous youth theatre will not only endure, but thrive, the Ribcage Collective are certainly a shining example. Written by Beth Gibson.

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Kevin Smith's Yoga Hosers is one of the most bafflingly entertaining films of the year. A part-time cheesy teen movie, part-time goofy horror flick and full-time American satire of Canada, Nazis, Canadian Nazis, ‘kids today,’ and of course yoga, it never really asks to be taken seriously, just to be enjoyed. It's a follow-up to Smith's previous film, Tusk, with Johnny Depp reprising his role as the eccentric Guy Lapointe. However, it still works as a standalone film. Those who haven't seen the first movie will be a bit confused by the odd reference to a man being turned into a walrus, but with a script this off-the-wall those moments will hardly stick out. Yoga Hosers follows the misadventures of Colleen McKenzie (Harley Quinn Smith) and Colleen Collette (Lily-Rose Depp), two best friends who are almost never apart. Together, they are taking yoga classes run by Comic Side Character Yogi Bayer (Justin Long) who teaches a very unusual type of yoga. They also sing in a band together, where they mock Oddball Sidekick Ichabod (Adam Brody) their long-suffering drummer. They rehearse in the back room of the dreaded general store that they both work at. They hate their jobs. They can’t stand the customers, or the fact that they’re working for Daggy Dad Mr Collette (Tony Hale) and his new girlfriend, Evil Stepmother Tabitha (Natasha Lyonne). One day, their daily drudgery is interrupted by the arrival of Hot Guy Hunter Calloway (Austin Butler) and Gross Wingman Gordon Greenleaf (Tyler Posey), two senior students who invite them to a wild house party happening tomorrow night. However, they are gutted when Tabitha whisks her bumbling Bob away on a surprise trip to Niagara falls, purposely leaving the Colleens with the store to run on the very same night of the party. On top of that, Mean PE Teacher, Ms Wuckland (Genesis Rodriguez) has done the unthinkable and confiscated their phones for the day, which of course pretty much puts their entire lives on hold. Until they can collect them from Wacky Principle Invincible (Sassier Zamata), they might as well pay attention to Exotic Exposition teacher Ms Maurice (Vanessa Paradis) as she teaches the class a backstory about Canadian Nazis, one that will become very important once this movie's scary sci-fi subplot kicks in. Even before it does, however, Yoga Hosers doesn't feel like your typical trashy teen horror film. Evidently, as far as plot and characters go, it follows the formula to the letter, but in terms of tone it is much more sardonic than your average high school movie. For instance, the audaciously named Principle Invincible slips some biting remarks on racial privilege in between the standard routine for her character trope. She and the rest of the cast are also all in on the wall-to-wall Canada jokes. This ensemble of mostly American actors speak in a hilarious hodgepodge of their native accents, a touch of Québécois and as many oots as Smith could write into the script. Once the plot starts swerving in all sorts of directions, the fun quickly increases, and just occasionally decreases. Each twist is certainly unexpected, though largely because no groundwork is really laid down for any them before they arrive. They're not exactly believe, but they don't aspire to be. They are mostly there for novelty, not complexity, and the film only truly suffers when that novelty wears off in between the scattered climaxes. If this were an artistic film, it would probably be called an "eclectic mix" of genres and characters, but as a piece of mainstream entertainment it is more likely to be called "a mess," but what a glorious mess it is. Each subplot is basically a vehicle for the surprisingly star-studded cast to engage in some self-parody. It is very satisfying to see Hayley Joel Osment and all of the other young adult stars subverting their usual roles. There are also many memorable pop culture gags. Most of them are very contemporary, such as the uproariously paradoxical reference to Orange is the New Black. Has Collette just never noticed that her dad's new girlfriend looks and sounds exactly like Nicky Nichols? Or the actor who plays her? Oh well, who cares. Meanwhile, some of the more classically educated moviegoers in the audience will appreciate the older references, which all come from Ralph Garman's gallery of impressions. As one of the funnier Nazi caricatures that we've seen recently, Garman does flawless impersonations of actors like Al Pacino, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and even the lisping Ed Wynn (best known for Mary Poppins and Alice in Wonderland). All of these are lost on the young Colleens but Guy Fontaine is very impressed by them. It might just sound like Hollywood nepotism to have Lily-Rose Depp share scenes with her mum, dad and even her little brother, Jack, all while Harley Quinn Smith is being directed by her dad, but the Depps really do bounce off each other well, and Kevin Smith does get a good performance out of his daughter. The results here might not exactly be cinematic gold, but they are nothing like the debacle that was After Earth or The Godfather: Part III. It's also very refreshing to see a film with two female protagonists who both remain happily single from beginning to end. Yoga Hosers is silly, lightweight fun that usually knows where its limits are. It doesn't attempt to hold its audience's interest for more than 90 minutes, but it does still expect them to engage with its fight scenes, even though no suspense is ever properly built for them. Sometimes Kevin Smith seems to forget that, although the Colleens are likeable and enjoyable to watch, since there is no emotional investment made at the start, there can be no dramatic payoff at the end, even though there are plenty of comedic payoffs. Written by Christian Tsoutsouvas

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Heavily stylised and endearingly quirky, Girl Asleep could be very easily described as “Wes Anderson does Napoleon Dynamite”, but in reality it’s much, much more than that. Sure it’s full of dorky humour and a kitsch yet meticulous 70s aesthetic, but it’s got a unique and very sweet take on the coming-of-age story. The girl of the film’s title is 14-year-old Greta, who’s just moved to suburban Adelaide and is having trouble fitting in at school. She meets another outcast kid named Elliott and the two strike up a nice friendship. Soon after, her parents decide to throw her a 15th birthday party, and reluctantly she agrees. There’s bullies, there’s sibling rivalry, there’s anxiety over appearance and romance, all the standard teenage things. It all sounds like such a simple premise. But that’s basically the point. It all sounds like such a simple premise because it is, and deliberately so: that which is generic is of course universally resonant. It’s a clever touch, as it allows the filmmakers to take this generic story and turn it into something truly original, and it means that it’s the stylistic oddities that shape the film as much as the story and characters. The visual flourishes, such as expositional “later that night” type text appearing on objects in the film or spontaneous dance sequences, are a delight. In addition, it devotes a hefty portion of its refreshingly short runtime to an intriguing dream sequence – the asleep part of the title – which plays out Greta’s insecurities, giving her closure with the people who surround her and helping her come to terms with her own changing existence. The most visually striking portion of the film, it’s also a portion that threatens to break the flow of the film and is a tad too long for what it needs to be. But I nevertheless enjoyed it and thought it matched the general mood and vibe of the rest of the film; like a true dream, it became a heightened version of the film’s reality. This is a film primarily for teenage girls, but though I was never a teenage girl I still really dug this. It’s funny, it’s a bit weird and it’s quintessentially Australian. Girl Asleep opens September 8th. Written by Ben Volchok.

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Cattle, contemporaries and canapés, Eddie Perfect’s play; The Beast, promises to touch you inappropriately in all the right places.

By challenging a lifestyle that conceals itself behind a facade of authenticity, the show wastes no time in establishing a humorous destabilisation of friendships; stripping characters down to their inauthentic cores.

With sensitive subjects used as punchlines to boot, it’s no lie to say that The Beast works to attack and offend, although this may not be a bad thing. The larger than life caricatures seek to hold a mirror up to those who consider themselves elite in society. They grow organic vegetables and purchase “ethical” cattle in an attempt to reduce their eco footprint, although this lifestyle definitely comes at a cost when the six friends find that they’ll have to kill their own dinner.

The play embodies almost each and every one of us that invests in a false perception of class. Whether it’s the food we eat, or merely the ways in which we live our lives, Eddie Perfect has constructed a hilariously self-critical comedy in which nobody is safe. No stone is left unturned, and no bourgeois attitude remains uncriticised. The play succeeds in drawing out what we hate most about ourselves and one another in the race to achieve perfection in the modern world.

After having survived a fatal boat accident, Simon (played by Rohan Nicole), Baird (played by Eddie Perfect himself) and Rob (played by Toby Truslove) vow to undertake a life of ethical living. In pursuing a tree change with their respective partners, friends become neighbours and their dislike for one another hastily develops. By conveying a critical view of urbanites seeking to escape the hustle of city-living for the tranquility of the country, these characters embody every stereotype of upper-class suburban snobbery. Despite their best efforts to live an ‘authentic’ country life, their obsession with consumerism and being on-trend shines through the minimalist avant-garde architecture of their homes, acting as a comedic contrast to the regional setting. A general unlikability plagues most of the characters within the play, as they embody a misguided approach to healthy living and cultural superiority that comes all too naturally for those most arrogant in society. What could otherwise be pursued as a humble and positive approach to living is corrupted by the elitism inherent in The Beast’s subjects.

Rob and his wife Sue (played by Heide Arena) are the last to make the move to the country, following Rob’s emotional breakdown from the trauma of the accident. Their arrival acts as a catalyst for the welcome dinner from hell, set up by the other characters. Attempting to face the harsh realities of ‘going bush’ the six are presented with the need to slaughter their own nose-to-tail cuisine, resulting in a bloody and horrifically hilarious display of gushing arteries and wealthy white people trolloping around in the blood of an Angus calf by the end of the first act. Struggling with the ideologies of taking responsibility for what you eat and holding a concern for animal welfare, the cast simultaneously kill and attempt to save the calf after bungling a ‘humane’ slaughter.  

Undeterred by the cattle related events, the characters barely manage to regroup before the darker scenes in the second act unfold. As the narrative progresses, the characters become increasingly uneasy, eliciting a similar response from the audience.

Each of the relationships presented are rife with cringeworthy ignorance, portrayed with a certain uniqueness by each individual character. Struggles with mental health are swept under the rug in a flippant display of uncaring, whilst misogynistic expressions are entirely left unchallenged. Although it could be argued that topics such as these should not be discussed with comedic aspects attached to them, it is important to realise that the humour running alongside the narrative seeks to soften the impact of the harsh reality portrayed. Despite trust and honesty being discussed in abundance between couples, the audience gains a sense of what an unhealthy relationship consists of. These characters inhabit a twisted realm where openly condoning betrayal is acceptable and ‘healthy’, while any mention of personal struggle is shameful and without class. They live in a place where pseudo-psychology has been used to justify disrespect, undermine support, and promote shame. Through elitist comments and narcissistic attitudes, these relationships are then put to the test in order to gauge just how difficult life in the country can be for those without scruples outside their own interests.

The cast carry the themes explored in The Beast with brilliant delicacy, traversing controversial dialogue whilst also grappling with a snobby perception of modernity that falsely champions free-thought and multiculturalism, all of which is easily related to by the contemporary audience.

I advise against, for the narrow minded or faint of heart when choosing to attend the ‘worst dinner party ever.’ Complete with serves of steak tartare and canapés galore, The Beast is sure to captivate the audience by confronting them with a side of themselves that perhaps they didn’t care to sample. Running until the 10th of September at the Comedy Theatre, be sure to consider eating your meal after the show, as this is an event that’s sure to make your stomach turn from sheer laughter and mild trauma.

Written by Thierry Falcone. 

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A film that opens with a lens-flared shot of a forest is only ever going to be a particular kind of film, I thought. A twee, wilderness-worshipping kind of film with smug self-contentedness. But Captain Fantastic, written and directed by Matt Ross, is not really that kind of film. Or rather, not entirely that kind of film. Yes, it’s full of obsession over nature and that brand of anti-consumerism that we all learn during our teens that pretty much starts and ends with “stick it to the man” – but it’s a film that’s occasionally and increasingly quite charming and that allows its characters to exist as more than a mere stereotype, delving into their lives and minds. Disappointingly, though, that is only a minor achievement that doesn’t really make up for the overall lack of depth in the storytelling. Captain Fantastic centres on Ben Cash, a father who brings his kids up in the woods, training them up to peak physical and mental ability away from all the aspects of modern, artificial, commercial life. This is the life this family leads, a life that’s all-too-tragically interrupted when Ben calls to find out how his wife and the children’s mother Leslie is doing in hospital and is told that she has died. Ben Cash is played by Viggo Mortensen with his usual rugged, rough-shod manner coupled with an intensely warm paternalism. In fact the whole cast is commendable, especially considering most of them are children; they never reduce their personas into cartoons even while, for example, the eight-year-old kid reads George Eliot, or the eldest hunts and kills a deer. The way he regiments his family and has a cool authoritarian control over them is, let’s be honest, essentially one murder away from a cult. He uses his power over them as a father figure in the same way that the corporations and capitalists that he rails against do. In their world, he is the man. But they never stick it to him. They just stick by him. And it was rather frustrating that this aspect of the film was never truly scrutinised. It’s safe to say that the film’s loyalties never really stray from the side of the ironically-named Cash family. Their lifestyle is never used as a punchline, which is nice, but again not surprising given the film’s on their side. And it’s entirely clear that he loves his kids and they love him too. But their ideological standpoint is pretty much given a free pass, which is both the film’s drawcard and its drawback. On one hand it’s nice to see a film treat a group of people on their own terms, and on that front it paints a detailed and convincing portrait, but on the other hand it means that it’s never fully critical of them and while yes it’s nice as an audience to be able to conduct critical analysis on our own terms it feels like the film itself is not actively inviting of criticism. Of course, there are some moments of self-doubt and self-reflection, and actually the most engaging segments of the film come in the second half, when we start to see the cracks in Ben Cash’s parenting methodology. It’s during these segments that the film is at its best, presenting a moral dilemma and a conflict between Ben and his wealthy “real-world” parents-in-law. Unfortunately it very suddenly shifts back to its original vibe – and, without giving too much away, it seems to suggest that these conflicts were for Ben to overcome, not to learn from. There’s small changes in his attitude as he settles for a favourable compromise and slightly mellows, but on the whole he’s the same Wild Man of the Outdoors as before. Captain Fantastic is a film about a family but is not exactly a family film. I mean, can you call a film where you see Viggo Mortensen nude a family film? I’m not sure. Maybe. But it’s definitely aiming for feel-good and I can see that it will appeal to a lot of people. I just wasn’t one of those people. Captain Fantastic opens September 8th. Written by Ben Volchok

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Hosts Christian and Jim are joined by Chris Hosking, The Ribcage Collective's Co-Artistic Director for their upcoming immersive theatre production. It will be running at La Mama Theatre until September 11th. Tickets and more information available: http://lamama.com.au/2016-winter-program/the-ribcage-collective

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Hosts, Jim and Christian, interview actor Francis Greenslade, best known for his televisions roles opposite Shaun Micallef in Mad as Hell and Denise Scott in Winners and Losers. Greenslade is also a seasoned stage actor and speaks about his upcoming role in Red Stitch Theatre's production of You Got Older. 

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Hosts, Thierry and Adalya, are joined by Alex De La Rambelje, one of the magicians in Gentlemen of Deceit. They talk about his performance on Australia's Got Talent and their upcoming shows at the Sydney Opera House on October 15th and 16th. Tickets available here.

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Hosts, Adalya and Thierry, interview actor Belinda Campbell about her role as Macbeth in Wit Incorporated's production of Shakespeare's Macbeth.

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