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.

Since last writing, around thirty days ago (a period which is less than 3/1000ths of my life thus far, and when you put it like that I don’t feel so bad) I’ve been to catch a few shows. The last two-thirds of the Jerry Herman triptych were enjoyable, particularly Dear World which featured a very ill but still magical Diedre Rubenstein (probably not known to her fans for playing “Crazy” Svetlanka, Russian lover of Lou from Neighbours). I had missed the first show, Milk and Honey because I was busy passing out in the hospital foyer. The final show in the set was Hello, Dolly which suffers the misfortune of being concerned with Small Town America™ which is just one of those alarm bells for me and means I’ll probably spend a lot of time looking at my shoes when they’re talking on stage.

Last weekend Phillip and I took to the streets of Melbourne and took advantage of Melbourne Open House, a situation where otherwise private areas of city buildings are made public for people to explore. This meant I spent most of the morning posing in embarrassing ways while Phillip kept saying “No, I’ll do it again, the light/focus wasn’t right.”

Most recently, with Jess as our house guest, we took to the Regent Theatre to view Love Never Dies again. Just proving that I wasn’t having a bad night when we first saw it, I was still enraged by the show’s all-too-obvious flaws and PERHAPS SOMEONE SHOULD HAVE NOTICED THAT WE DON’T PUT THREE DUETS BETWEEN THE SAME TWO CHARACTERS IN A ROW BECAUSE THAT’S SIMPLY NOT A GOOD IDEA AND OH GOD I’M BORED AND NO ROTATING THE SET DOES NOT MAKE THIS SONG DIFFERENT TO THE LAST ONE. In truth I spent most of this viewing listening to Ben Lewis as The Phantom and studying his character voice in the off chance that I am ever offered an audition for The Phantom/Batman/Will Arnett.

Paul Duffus (Deputy Commissioner of Taxation To The Stars) helped me pay my medical expenses (personally, I think if they’re going to do crazy crap to me while I’m asleep they should be paying me), which sorted me out to book flights to New York and Los Angeles with Nico early next year. This means the zipper on my bumbag which holds my wallet will need to be locked even more tightly than usual so that I can be reckless and break all sorts of personal rules when traveling*.

Other than this it’s back to work (for which I set up a small site), and hoping to have some time to pay my blog some more attention.

* I’m expecting to break my “Don’t eat anything bigger than your head” rules quite a few times.

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.

The Mikado is a sentimental favourite for mine. I saw an amateur production very early in my self-initiated exploration of musical theatre, and suddenly learnt that music could be sublime, intelligent and funny all at once. I then explored the other documented productions of the show, including the video of the original Christopher Renshaw/Opera Australia production of the eighties that this one replicates to a large degree.

What is remarkable about this particular season is just how they managed to get so many notably funny people in a room at one time. The meek ringmaster of the chaos is Butel, who tears through jokes and shtick as though it were precise choreography. He has his work cut out for him, filling every gap with a sight gag or localised riff. G&S is prime for this sort of thing, but in this case it’s genuinely funny. A supremely skilled comedian, Butel works his voice, posture and movement to it’s most potent result.

The pace is brisk and everyone is kept on their toes by conductor Brian Castles-Onion who pounds through the score, not leaving a great deal of time for comprehension of the dense lyrics. The exposed orchestra is wonderful and sounds splendid with the minimally-amplified performers.

It should be noted that Butel is not the only one getting the laughs. Jacqueline Dark (Katisha) and Taryn Fiebig (Yum-Yum) who both find new humour in their characters’ vulgarity and vanity. It is only Kanen Breen as Nanki-Poo who seems overly obnoxious in light of his situation, but his voice is a highlight of the production and is in no way less enjoyable than his peers. A suite of cameras filmed the performance, presumably for broadcast, and I’m grateful this cast is being documented.

Even though the production itself is familiar, there’s nothing at all wrong with revisiting the classics often and remembering why you loved them so much the first, second and third times. I found myself loving it just a little more this time.

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.

As luck would have it, Nico and I scored free tickets (courtesy of Malthouse Theatre) to see the National Theatre’s filmed production of Frankenstein at Cinema Nova the very night after we bumped it in favour of Dr. Zhivago: The Musical.

As the production was filmed twice with Sherlock‘s Benedict Cumberbatch and Johnny Lee Miller alternating the roles of Dr. Frankenstein and The Creature, I was hoping to catch both. As it turns out, the screening we caught was of Cumberbatch as Dr. Frankenstein, which meant I wouldn’t get a chance to see the other variation.

The show opens with what amounts to an extended acting exercise as The Creature is born and discovers his body, bit by bit. This sort of thing can be extremely self-indulgent, but instead it was unexpected and developed a great deal of empathy toward the deformed monster before he even encounters another human.

Marked by two outstanding performances in the cold, distant Cumberbatch and the intense, grotesque Miller, the show builds in intensity until the two characters meet for the second time. From this point on, the stakes are so high for both characters, there’s no lull of urgency until the remarkable conclusion.

The design of the production is beautiful, punctuated with a ceiling of lightbulbs that blind and dazzle. Danny Boyle’s direction is top-notch with a strong distinct, warped vision, slightly reminiscent of Tim Burton’s Batman-era work. This isn’t a study of the grotesque or terrifying, however, rather giving real shading to the strange desires of these two men.

It’s a shame NT Live isn’t in the habit of releasing their productions on DVD/Bluray, because a double-set featuring both variations would be unbelievably useful as study material for English and Drama students for decades, not counting the vast public reach this incredible production deserves. The production has played encore screenings in USA and UK. If it’s scheduled again for Australian cinemas, don’t miss it.