Dennis

The gentle gentleman. Dennis joined the theatre group shortly after I did and it’s hard to remember a show without Dennis in the chorus, backstage or out the front in his usher blacks. He was our chief carpenter, achieving incredible things on non-existent budgets (including a rain curtain for Little Shop of Horrors). Eternally overcommitted, Dennis would be learning his lines, building sets and generally spending every waking minute at the theatre. He’d often find himself emotional come opening night, so proud of his set, the show and the group.

He’d often say that we (the young ones) were so lucky, having this outlet and community as young adults, but he never missed out. He was always one of the boys backstage and got his fair share of the spotlight out front. He masterfully played drunk, and could be relied upon to brings tears of laughter to my face whenever he’d do a bit of character schtick.

We loved swapping stories, usually toilet-related. Once, while we were onstage (behind the curtain) awaiting the start of the show, he told a long and involved story about the time he went for a jog through the suburbs when he was struck with an impending urgency. With each inaccessible toilet he told, he demonstrated his newly frustrated run. Whilst trying to be silent, the whole cast was in hysterics and the curtain opened to a cast all very red in the face.

Ultimately, and most importantly, he will be remembered as the kind, generous man he was. On several occasions he’d put his hand on my shoulder and say “If you need something, get on the phone to Patto.” He had no limit of time for anyone, and we had no limit of time for Dennis.

Next time I step into that theatre I will miss his friendly face and our cheerful chat. It will be a different place without him.

Kevin

I met Kevin simultaneously in 2004 through his community radio show, ‘ShowBiz!‘ and when I was playing in the band for Nunsense 2: The Second Coming which he was directing. He came over during our sitzprobe and said “He makes all those sounds with that keyboard!” I played in the band for his production of 70, Girls, 70 and he eventually asked me to musically direct You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown for him. From there I working with him again on Nuncrackers, and occasionally collaborated with him on his radio show.

Kevin’s passion was the art of musical theatre. A lifelong theatre goer, there was little he didn’t know about any show. We had countless wonderful conversations where we’d share information and he’d tell me stories about productions he’d seen. He taught me a great deal about theatre history, and loved to share his favourite shows.

Our collaborations were always fun. The shows we worked on together were small cast shows, and we always had a terrifically fun environment. He was the perfect director for these shows. He loved watching performers perform, and had a special skill of moulding the whole show into a unified piece.

He loved to share his knowledge with his radio audience whom were very faithful to him. On the occasions that I filled in for him in his absence, the radio listeners always called to ask where ‘Kevin’ was and if he would be back for the following week. We presented a few shows together, including one in which we discussed and played, track by track, Adam Guettel’s Myths and Hymns. He always invited me for his annual christmas episode, in which we discussed the year’s theatre and played silly christmas related tracks.

The amateur musical theatre scene can be a bitchy, scary place, but everyone loved working with Kevin, and had great respect from his peers. Theatre was everything to Kevin (that was clear whenever his face lit up in rehearsals), and he fed that passion into others. It was after the final performance of his latest production, Dames at Sea, that he passed away. It’s tremendously sad, but somehow fitting that Kevin took his final bow along with his cast and crew.

Here’s to two lives made all the better by theatre, and to the theatre they both gave us.

From the snap of the clapperboard, this is up my alley. Film noir, private eyes, and early Hollywood during the era of large studios. Add to that a magnificent score by Cy Coleman which is the playground for some of the most delightful lyrics ever written for musical theatre by David Zippel (my favourite is in “It Needs Work”: “Your fertile lies don’t fertilise / It needs work” ). This is a treasure of contemporary musical theatre.

Larry Gelbart’s (of M*A*S*H) book is extraordinary. It parallels the lives of Stine, a private-eye novelist turned screenplay writer now converting his book into a Hollywood film, and Stone, he’s fictional private eye character. Both men seem to have trouble controlling their lives and dealing with the women in them. The parallels are emphasised by the same actors playing parts in both worlds (the fictional world is created with a monochrome film noir set and costuming). Stone’s world is continually compromised by the studio pressures placed on Stine force him to rewrite the script.

Unfortunately I didn’t snag a programme so I can’t relay the names of the actors who’s performances were exception, but I will mention them by character names. The two actors in Stone and Stine were wonderful, with Stone playing the Bogart-esque private eye with great comedy and Stine successfully finding the right balance between his more reserved character and the Hollywood monster’s around him. Their voices are also in very fine form for their duet, “You’re Nothing Without Me”.

The actress playing both Alaura Kingsley (the damsel in distress) and Carla Haywood (the film producer’s wife/leading lady) is equally stunning and extremely effective in both worlds. Bobbi/Gabby provided great emotional weight, particularly during “It Needs Work”, though sometimes lacked the strength required in her upper register for her songs. The Oolie/Donna characters provide some great comedy, which was certainly exploited by this young actress.

Musical Director Andrew Patterson’s band of five successfully evokes the era and played the difficult jazz score well. The reduced orchestrations did hurt the grandeur of some numbers, but that is without a doubt an understandable compromise. The Angel City 4 also do a good job the challenging harmonies (penned by The Manhatten Transfer’s Musical Director Yaron Gershovsky), though the balance between voices could have been more refined.

Lighting Designer Aaron McDonald is to commended for terrific feats, particularly evoking the film noir world with the use of shadows and low hanging spotted lighting.

Ultimately, this was a very effective production of a magnificent musical. From the look of things, there are some terrific talents about to hit the Melbourne professional stages.

The first (and last) thing I noticed was the sound levels, which was far too loud for my middle-age-person-in-a-young-man’s body. I’m all for music having a certain punch to it, and this score certainly calls for it, but considering the very mixed audience of typical theatre goers and baby boomers, it didn’t need to leave me with hearing damage (I was certainly missing a wide spectrum of high frequencies when the show was over).

The plot is subservient to an equally subservient score. Boy (Drew, Justin Burford) meets Girl (Sherrie, Amy Lehpamer), but in the dozen or so lines they share, don’t seem to be able to tell each other they are interested. Enter Stacie Jaxx (Michael Falzon) as the egomaniacal rock star who causes a rift between Dennis and Sherrie. In amongst all this, the club they all hang out at is going to be demolished by malevolent Germans (can you imagine?). To round it off, there’s a black soul-singer Madame, a 50/50 split of Mama Morton from Chicago and Motormouth Maybelle from Hairspray. There was so much more fun to be had in a script like this, but Chris D’Arienzo didn’t find it. The only line that truly made me laugh was when Dennis (the club owner, played by Anthony Harkin) is leaving packing up the destruction-ready club and announces “That’s everything. Except for this whole fucking wall!”, referring to the untouched and highly decorative set. I’d be interested to know whether that was the work of D’Arienzo. The lowest point in the script is certainly when the characters recognise they are inside a musical and can change the ending however they like. It’s the musical equivalent of the “it was all a dream” device.

The cast was pumped. They screamed and shouted their way over the almost non-responsive audience (it was a Tuesday night). Their characters, drawn on the enormous side, hunt for the comedy in the script. The entire enjoyment of these characters should be credited to the cast and American director Kristin Hanggi, who work hard and give the characters a great deal of heart. John O’Hara (understudy) as Lonny, the club’s sound engineer and M.C. was a supreme comedian with perfect timing, and his antics are responsible to holding the audience’s attention throughout the script (also, credit to costume designer Gregory Gale for Lonny’s array of bogan t-shirts, including “Camel Toe”). The small ensemble are also excellent throughout with their endless energy and comedic stints.

The score of eighties glam rock is mostly unknown to me (unsurprising), but is totally ineffectual. The songs rarely seem lyrically related to the story, and at times they were so disparate I found myself wondering things like “Who is she singing about?” I hope the mere recognition of the songs greatly improves their effectiveness. It’s a terrible shame, because an original score In-The-Style-Of would have been far more rewarding to the story. As a result I found myself wanting to skip the songs and just get back to some funny shtick involving Lonny and his bro-pal Dennis. Just like the cast, the onstage rock band of five are pumping throughout show and interact well with the characters on stage.

Ultimately, my views don’t count a whit in this instance as the producers are working hard to capture a different audience. The Victorian Government declared that the show was going to bring more people to Musical Theatre as a result, but I doubt those who truly relish Rock of Ages are going to cross the road the next night and see Dr. Zhivago. Where Rock of Ages falls down is that it didn’t realise the opportunity in the material to have substance for the typical theatre-goers also. With a film version on the way starring Tom Cruise, it just shows that Hollywood has learnt nothing from Mamma Mia.

I just saw a preview of the Australian production of Love Never Dies, the long-awaited sequel to Phantom of the Opera. I’m not exactly sure that anyone cares that much about the sanctity of the original, although the Really Useful Group would love you to believe that there are rabid fans out to sabotage this production (I’m yet to see one of the posters they mentioned).

This production, which features new design and direction than the London production, blows the original out of the water in most aspects. Gabriela Tylesova’s set design is twisted, grotesque and freakish in the most wonderful way. The nightmarish displays actually seem far better than the bland Phantom could ever conjour. LND’s Phantom is no-longer the malevolent figure stalking the wings and flys of a theatre. He’s now seemingly a respectful businessman who fled for a quieter life on the farm carnival. So while his theme park seems dangerous (the still excessively out of place heavy-rock number “The Beauty Underneath” will attest to that), the Phantom no longer seems dangerous. At the end of Act One, it seems that Madame Giry might be poised to become the latest troublemaker, but even that never eventuates.

The new opening, developed after things turned sour in London, exposes the audience to the Phantom instantly, breaking one of the classic rules of horror writing: Don’t Show The Monster To The Audience Till He’s Dangerous. The original opening – which was visually stunning with projection and a tricky illusion in the set – was an epilogue showing the damage he was about to wreak. Instead, opening with a grand ballad from the Phantom seems like a cheap move.

The cast is great, paying their dues with the usual melodramatic (read: clenched fist to the balcony) type acting that’s inevitably required. It seemed to be a complex show technically, with many moving bits filling up the stage at any given moment, and just navigating that stuff on stage is hard enough work. I’m sure soon into the run, those clunky set changes and uncomfortable shuffles behind set pieces will be sorted out. The orchestra were also terrific, playing the score with great fervour (even the far too many reprises of “Bathing Beauties”*). Special mention to the backing track which didn’t miss a beat during “The Beauty Underneath”.

In short, this was an excellent production of the latest work of a composer who seems to need to use three songs that sound vaguely familiar (or less vague… “Beneath a Moonless Sky” = “Cell Block Tango”, and there’s this) when one song would do due to some bizarre fear of including an emotional arc within a single song.

Even though I am always confused and mystified about ALW’s style, I’m grateful for the production and hope it runs a long, long time. At the end of the day, I’d rather be sitting there watching a new work than a revival of Phantom.

* I’ve voted “Bathing Beauties” amongst the worst musical theatre songs, right alongside “Paris Makes Me Horny” from Victor/Victoria.

Directed and musically directed by playwriter/composer team Dean Bryant and Mathew Frank (who wrote the very moving Prodigal, amongst others), the show focuses on an American family led by a mentally ill mother, Diana. The show’s focus moves between the reason for her illness, her attempts at treatment and therapy and later, its effect on the family. It’s surprisingly lengthy at around two and a half hours, particularly for a work as intimate and heavy in tone as this, but the story is structured in a way that the second act doesn’t feel like it overstays its welcome. This is also likely due to the enjoyable score that I could best describe as “soft rock”.

The small cast is headed by Kate Kendall, probably best known for her role on the TV police drama Stingers. While Kendall doesn’t have a powerhouse voice in terms of strength, she does have a pleasant coarseness in her voice, not unlike the role’s originator, Alice Ripley. She also never struggles to hit any notes throughout the diverse score, and powers through the emotional drama. The rest of the cast are vocally very strong, particularly Matt Hetherington who’s warm voice and gentle character is a lovely contrast to the volatile Diana. Their son, Gabriel, played by Gareth Keegan also does wonders with the pop-esque melodies he’s given.

The production looks and sounds wonderful. Richard Roberts’ compact set is ingenious and seemingly limitlessly versatile. The lighting design, combined with the subtle projections add great depth to the set. Mathew Frank’s band of 6 is tight, energetic and very sensitive to the cast and venue. The orchestrations (focussing on piano, strings and guitars) and vocals were always clear, so hats off to Terry McKibbin and his sound design for that. With barely a synth in sight (the violinist doubles on synth in a few numbers), I was impressed that Frank led the band onstage from an acoustic upright piano lending authenticity to the sound.

The season has been extended until 4th June so it’s worth a viewing. Cheap tickets are available at HalfTix Melbourne, too.

Clearly built as a vehicle for Anthony Warlow (as Zhivago), he spends much of his time during the night on stage and dominating the score, as well he should. His voice was impeccable, and as glorious to hear as ever. Other voices impressive, but none more than Martin Crewes as Pasha.

Ultimately, the entire thing came across as the musical version of colour-by-numbers. The music was sweeping and epic without being particularly insightful or innovative. Cue a standard russian dance here. Now let’s have a militant march here. Those who settle for ALW’s score to Phantom of the Opera (or worse yet, his mundane Love Never Dies) will feel satisfied by Lucy Simon’s score. For me, it was a non-event. I could probably create a mashup of Fiddler On The Roof and Martin Guerre that would sound much the same.

The lyrics and book are equally unimpressive, and certainly don’t mine the expansive story on offer. On numerous occasions I could finish the lyric before it was delivered from the actor’s mouth. Similarly, there was lots of cringe-worthy dialogue such as “I’ve had enough lectures in University, I don’t need another from you.” Presumably, this line is to impress upon the audience the fact that the rather-too-old Warlow is currently playing a young graduate Zhivago.

The script never stops delivering bad luck to the characters, and I kept having much the same feeling as watching an Aliens film. Such relentless trauma! The script is quite without joy and humour (I discount the love songs here because they are so tiresome in repetition and drudgery), and the only ounce of “humour”, delivered by two ridiculously miscalculated Nazi characters towards the end of Act One, fails terribly and is an abrupt absurdity amongst the humanity of the show. The Thénardiers they are not.

The production looks great thanks to the slanted stage and perspective trickery of the set design, even if the actors do seem to need to stable themselves occasionally. The orchestra played very well, and sounded wonderful once the initial sound mix was adjusted.

This high quality production of barely-adequate material is playing for 12 weeks (Warlow has stated he considers this run it’s “premiere”, pooh-poohing it’s Sydney and La Jolla runs).

On a side note, I think there’s an entire blog to be written about shows that request empathy for adulterous relationships.

To say I was looking forward to this Show-In-A-Tent experience was not exactly true; My last experience seeing a show in a tent (GREASE) led to me being slapped in the face by a boozed up woman enthusiastically doing the famous Grease Lightning choreography. This time the 2000-seat tent was down in Docklands, and it took a muddy walk in the rain to get there. “Going to the bathroom in a converted shipping container is not usually part of the theatre experience,” I told my friend.

As we piled into the large dome, our row, presumably all half-tix, filled quickly. An usher eventually told us to spread out as the rest of the seating in our section was almost empty. We were very grateful, as I was already having flashbacks to the cramped conditions that led to that aforementioned audience participation injury.

The small band of about 5 fired up with the most terrible sound mix I’ve heard in a long time. Perhaps it was the fact that the tent was half empty (I can’t imagine it’s easy to design sound for the inside of a rubber ball), but it clearly affected the cast, some of whom were singing the opening number flat. The screeching, flat, reverb-to-the-max, over-amplified vocals frightened the heck of me, which wasn’t helped by the fact that all we could hear from the band was the drum kit. Even my non-theatre-going friend noticed, and looked over with a grimace. It’s amazing what 14 seasons of Idol teaches someone.

Things on the sound front slowly improved, but I began to think it was a strategic decision. When I could finally understand the dialogue being pumped from the speakers, I realised that there was no need to hurry and fix the problems after all. The first scene is overly-expositional to the point that it’s almost a joke. I suspect that was the intention.

Luckily, it turned fun rather quickly. Once Christie Whelan (playing the Olivia Newton-John character) donned the skates and mightily belted out a few numbers, things looked up. While the story is about as deep as the puddles surrounding the tent (something concocted out of “muses” conveniently having a ton a rules), the script provides plenty of opportunities for the ensemble to do funny little bit parts, which the director Christopher Ashley (who also directed the Broadway production) gives plenty of space for.

The set is not extravagant, but it doesn’t need much to cover the one-act, 90 minute duration. Keeping things simple helped focus on the show’s easy gags, solid performances and the fun spirit that inhabited the show. I was glad to see the show get back on track after the shaky start, and by the time the conclusion raced around, all was forgiven (even the makeshift toilets).

Without a doubt, Christie Whelan is a big drawcard for this show. After a string of successes after her Britney Spears cabaret and appearing in SUGAR and THE DROWSY CHAPERONE, following her career will be fun. Seeing her comic chops in this show is worth the ticket price alone (provided you’re getting , and it feels better when you consider all the other fun and fluff around her is just a bonus.

The show now has a question mark above it’s future. It’s closing early in Melbourne raising only a tenth of the money expected towards the Olivia Newton John Cancer and Wellness Centre. If it tours, it will leave the tent behind (which is a very good thing). With such a compact production, it seems it might succeed with a string of short runs in regional (and smaller) venues rather than try to fill larger venue for an extended period.

We were off to see a musical theatre double-act; John Bucchino’s one-act revue IT’S ONLY LIFE, followed by a solo concert by the composer himself. For added delight, John was the sole accompanist for the 7 singers during the first performance. The revue, a nice mixture of compositional styles, has a surprisingly strong arc without feeling contrived, which can probably be attributed to Daisy Prince who patched the show together with John using his extensive library of songs. The song’s subjects were often, but not always, regarding matters of the heart – love, loss and identity. Surely no one was without a smile during the upbeat “That Smile” which included the could-have-been-but-wasn’t-akward vocal percussion from the cast. This is a testament to the cast’s empathy for the material. They got the dry and sometimes bitchy humour, and played the impressively-honest ballads with impressive acting chops. The entire cast was up to the material (well done to the entire production team for that), but it was Phoebe Coupe who stood out for me. The clarity and strength of her voice were perfectly suited to John’s music (and unquestionably, many others). I had seen in a smaller role during MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG last year, and it was great to hear her let loose this time.

It was easy to see that John’s love for the music and production was overflowing as he bounced around the piano playing almost impossibly fast rhythms as only the composer truly can. He is truly a gifted piano player, something impressed upon us even moreso after dinner.

When we piled into the theatre, John returned to the piano. Quite mild-mannered, John took us through quite a few songs from his catalogue, in each instance explaining the backstory. He was warm and engaging, more like sitting in his lounge room as he told us stories of his life, being brutally honest. The more personal songs were an extension of his storytelling, and probably far more revealing than most people would allow. He sang of broken relationships, funny moments in his life, and his proudest moments (one of the numbers he wrote – but eventually cut – for the Dreamworks animated film “Joseph: King of Dreams” was particularly joyous and showed how adaptable he is to different styles of songwriting). Throughout the evening he spoke of how lucky he is, and how nice it was was have the pleasure of performing with this cast of “It’s Only Life”. You can tell that he meant it too, “Grateful” is not just a wonderful song in his catalogue.

There have been few times I’ve been compelled to meet an artist after watching them perform, but to John I had to say ‘Thank you’. He took the time to have a genuine chat to us afterwards and told us he rarely does solo shows. In that case, I’m grateful I didn’t miss it.