Left - Katya Shevtsov and cast. Photo - Thomas Greene
I’m one of
those nosey people who loves to slow down when driving along a suburban street
at night, to try and get a glimpse through parted curtains or half drawn blinds,
to get that sudden snapshot of another person’s life. That’s not nosey, my
significant other tells me, just a writer’s curiosity. It feels nosey, but
still I lean forward, forehead pressed to the glass, circles of breath threatening
to obscure my view.
Presence is a voyeur’s delight. Instead of
glass against your forehead, this is an invitation to witness a slice of other
peoples’ lives. And much of the intrigue comes from what is absent rather than
what is really there. This is truly a joy for the car-trip voyeur: the chance
for the imagination to fill in the spaces that the blinds and doors and walls
block from view.
Presence, written by Patrick van der Werf,
is an Australian fable that explores isolation, alienation, and the presence of
the other that helps us define who we
are. The script won the 2002 Griffin Award (National award for an outstanding
unpublished and unproduced script), and the Taffy Davis Memorial Award for Best New Play.
Van der Werf has hinged Presence around the character of
Molly Kaufman (Bronwyn Pearson), a flawed matriarch trapped in her own tiny
world of loss and loneliness. She takes in a new boarder, Sam (Sebastian
Gavasso), a young Italian immigrant bursting with a lust for life and dreaming
of freedom. But Sam must share a room with the old and cantankerous Bob
(Kingsley Judd), who has boarded with Molly for 20 years. And Molly's son, Jake
(Ben Brown), who has returned home after another long absence, is haunted by
the betrayal and horror that lives in his childhood, and becomes the antithesis
of the vibrant Sam. A young woman, Penny (Katya Shevtsov), is also strangely drawn
into their lives, prowling the night, afraid to sleep because of the evil
standing at the foot of her bed. These flawed characters traverse one another
like debris in a storm, their fears slipping across each other as they struggle
to overcome them. Ultimately, it is through Sam that we begin to see what is
and what isn’t.
Interestingly, the character of Sam wasn’t written in the
script as being an Italian immigrant. This inclusion was born both of necessity
and as a stroke of genius from director Bruce Denny. Denny was struggling to
get suitable young male actors into the audition room when Sebastian Gavasso
turned up and, in many ways, turned the whole production on its head.
Twenty-six year old Gavasso, an Italian student at the International School of
Theatre in Rome,
has been in WA since last November as part of an international education
experience to further his acting skills and perform in English. Casting him was
a stroke of genius not only because Gavasso (who’s been performing professionally
in Italy
since 2002) was nothing short of brilliant, but also because the effect of making
the stranger in the house an immigrant was extremely effective. On top of this,
the Italian humour that Gavasso brings to the role is extremely refreshing. It
also seems rather perfect for a play staged (mostly) in Fremantle, which is
bursting with Italian influences.
While Presence is a tight, professional
production by all accounts, the show really belongs to Gavasso and Judd. Their
scenes together take the play to another level; Gavasso’s Tigger-like
exuberance perfectly opposed by Judd’s figurative and literal decay. Both of
these fine actors (Judd has graced WA audiences with some wonderfully memorable
performances for many years now) embody their characters so completely that I
found myself weeping for their despair. Judd manages to weave a fractious
brittleness with wry humour and an aching tenderness, with what looks like
extraordinary ease. He decays before your eyes and is simply a privilege to watch.
Presence is well staged. The inclusion of the live musicians,
playing an original score by the immensely talented Music Director and composer
Tristen Parr, makes for some haunting moments and gives the entire production a
profound and sophisticated originality. The opening violin piece is beautiful
and works to draw the audience straight into the mood in a way that recorded
sound rarely can.
The music also works to hold the play together, bridging
moments where the story lines of disparate characters become a bit too
disjointed and somewhat frustrating. The dynamic between the mother and son,
Molly and Jake, doesn’t quite hit its mark, despite an honest and touching
portrayal of Molly by Pearson. And Brown doesn’t quite have a handle on the
difficult and intense character of Jake, a tortured wordsmith, haunted by
memories of his dead father - he does an admirable job in a tricky role, but
ultimately is swamped by the powerhouse performances delivered by Judd and
Gavasso. The character of Penny, well played by Shevtsov, could almost have
been written out of the script, her presence really only required for some plot
developments and to set up a potentially violent relationship between Sam and
Jake. Unfortunately this aggression is diluted by the overly internal performance
by Brown and, to a lesser extent, the changed nature of the character of Sam as
an Italian. It would be easier to see the aggression between two hot-headed
ocker blokes than a dark and intense poet and a playful, puppy-like, young Italian
dreamer.
Despite these minor difficulties, Presence is one of the
best plays I’ve seen this year. Everything about it smacks of originality,
passion and talent. The blend of drama, humour, and pathos with tight
direction, haunting original music, and some outstanding acting makes for
compelling theatre. Through it we are reminded that within the darkness of fear
and alienation there are always cracks of light.
So Frenchy Productions presents Presence by Patrick van der Werf
Fly By Night, Fremantle Sep 17- 19
Subiaco Arts Centre Sep 20 & 21
Tickets: $22 (Concession) $26 (Standard) Bookings: Planet (Mt Lawley), Mills Records (Fremantle) or BOCS (08) 9484 1133
Otello | Opera Australia
Shakespeare’s Othello – the classic tragedy of deceit, revenge, love, and jealousy... in essence, all the makings for the spectacle and drama that is opera.
Read more
