WTF (no translation needed, I'll demurely assume), written by Victorian, Carla Jane McCallum, produced by Fine Work Theatre Company, starring Warwick Allsop as Will and Carla as Jen, zeroes in on the speed-dating, dump-by-text, RSVPeopled Walley-world we now inhabit. Recognisable to anyone who's been desperate and dateless in the noughties and ripe for humour; an innocuous, well-crafted, well-played take on singletons and the seamy, steamy, not-so-dreamy world of internetted catches of the day.
A Safe Pair Of Hands, by exuberant New South Welshman, Pat Sheil, directed, flawlessly, by Fleur Beaupert, saw long-time-no-see John Derum, as alco-digger, Slips Cordon, sets its sights on the untouchable, sacred, iconic Gallipoli legend of Simpson and his donkey. Perverse, daring, irreverent and side-splitting; a role tailor-made for Derum's comedic sensibilities. Very well-judged & superbly executed!Adele Vuko's (NSW) The Guardians, directed by same, from Adele Jade Productions and featuring Louise Molino, as Angel, Will Howarth, as Demon, Alex Wallace (Arch Angel Michael), Daniel Nemes (Death), & Vuko as Lady Macbeth, also pokes fun at a self-evident icon. Good & evil, joined at the hip, bicker constantly, God has a mobile, and Jesus is on the line, as well. All good fun, with especially strong performances from Vuko and Howarth; 'though Nemes' affable, randy reaper is amusing, as is Wallace's dry, middle-managing, Ruddite Arch Angel.
Permanently Engaged is a Victorian play, by Dan Clancey, directed by Katherine R. Davis, about which I've waxed lyrically before. Thoroughly deserving of its place in this best-of baker's dozen, starring Ted Crosby as the younger man and James Belfrage as the elder, it's a clever & compelling setup, as two toilet-bowls are placed on-stage. The toilet humour begins and ends there, however, as two men from opposite ends of the corporate foodchain, even in striving for anonymity, learn even more than they bargained for, about each other. Pregnant with imagination and keenly-observed, it was a real contender.
Mandragora, by NSW's David Sharpe, directed by Lisa Eismen, with cast Kieran Foster, Aishveryaa Nidhi, Leanne Zaccar and Susan Stapleton was, for mine, the odd man out. Not without ideas and merits, by any means, but overly dramatic, to the point of melo, this is a play that takes itself way too seriously! It tackles guilt and memory in a hamfisted, in-your-face way which, for example, 49 Stories About Brian McKenzie (read on), thoroughly, & thankfully, avoids. While Foster's performance was creditable, even commendable, this play suffered, as many Short Sweeties do, from uneven casting and abilities. Nidhi, for instance, looked like a first-timer and it broke the narrative & momentum. Frankly, I don't know what this play was doing here. Workshopping, please: there's a good play in there, struggling to get out.
A Little Blue, by David Bulmer, also from NSW, was directed by Rene Hernandez, with Cheree Cassidy, as Donna, Graham Hyland, as Rex, Molly Knight, as Fay, & Evan Zavelsky, as Jeff. Surprising, in a most delightful way; inventive; expertly directed, with just-so performances, this was one of the true highlights of a very long evening (& night). A whale of a time, I'm sure, was had by all: actors and audience alike, as two citified 4WDrivers get lost, in parallel to a couple of beached pilots. Both pairs progressively sort out their relationships, in a manner clearly devised for maximum laughs, generously and easily afforded. Just as short, but not nearly as sweet plays, could glean much from the timing, consistency, camaraderie and comedy herein.
Haircuts, written by Con Nats (NSW), directed by same, for CoNats Comms, was notable for a particularly evocative set, by Julie Maher. But that's not all: Adam Hatz barber, Guiseppe, was little short of a triumph; as slick, smooth and shiny as just-applied Brylcreem. it was, indeed, 'Bryl'! My enthusiasm for his takes nothing away from Chris Pentonzi's client, or Barbara Gouskas' wife. A Broadway-standard piece, from script to final fade; imbued with tenderness, affection, sincerity, sophistication & heart; an absolute darling of a play!
And we're only at interval. Make a cuppa, by all means: you're gonna need it.
Remembering The Kites, by Singaporean, Harry Allen, was another tragic, yet affirming play, about memory and other loss, deftly directed by Jennie Bazell and starring the appreciable talents of Peter Dye, as Eric, & Tim Hunter, as John. A timely meditation on aging & humanity, which drew notably strong, very well-justified acclamation.
Chocolate Face, by Trent Atkinson, from an idea, by Tom Pelik, both of NSW, realised by Rush Of Blood Productions, and starring Pelik, as Victor, & Kristy Best, as Kelly, is a pedantic and self-righteous, if worthy, exploration of the undercurrents of racism. Unfortunately, it threatens to disappear into its own, belly-button-focussed, mesmeric gaze; or somewhere in the nether anatomical regions. Might Victor be unwittingly, even obliviously, guilty of racism, by default? Who knows? I was none the wiser. It was laboured in every sense and, frankly, it's a big ask, of itself, to penetrate such a subject in 10 minutes flat. It struck out. Pity, 'cause it's heart is, obviously, in the right place.
The Rose, by contrast, was drama at its veritable Zenith. Written by Charles Freyberg (NSW), directed by Glynn Oram, with the finest of performances, from Lynden Jones, as Peter, & Andrew Cutcliffe, as Richard, I find myself (while disagreeing, in principle, with programme notes passing value judgements) rejoining with 'hear, hear!' to 'a tightly-written, beautifully-acted, witty and incredibly touching play, revisiting a friendship, love and life shared'. Affecting, indeed. And memorable.
The Struggle Within, written & directed by Victorian Carl J. Sorheim, from Sir GannonHeim productions, featuring Sorheim, as Brain, Nick Gunn, as Ben, & David Gannon as 'the other one', makes penis puppetry look passe, in portraying one man's struggle between mind and, er, matter. With hilarious physicality that has to be seen to be believed, this is an insider's look at the workings of that simplest of all creatures, the great Aussie male.
North, by Marcello Fabrizi, directed by Jamie Oxenbould, stars Fabrizi, as Man (well, almost) and Jess Macauley as Woman. Inner-Westies go weekending, in search of the real Australia. When they breakdown, they get more than they bargained for, as their horizons expand, even beyond the Glebe markets. Again, unpretentiously funny stuff; well-written, cast, played and directed.
For mine, though, for sheer emboldened originality, freshness, innovation and depth of emotion, the incomparable 49 Stories About Brian Mackenzie was the stuff of which theatrical legends are made. Written (from life, it seems) by Greg Hardigan, from the US, directed, outstandingly, by the all-too-modest Felicity Nicol & played, superlatively, by Moss Halliday-Hall, as Hardigan, 49 teases, tickles & jabs in the heart. '49 Stories shows the beauty, simplicity and fragility of an ordinary person and an everyday event. Knowing; transporting; sensitive; sensational! 49 recalibrates one's perspective in ten extraordinary minutes. When Short 'n' Sweet achieves that, it's not only the biggest little play festival in the world, it's one of the best. If only the backers had the judgment, sensibility and discernment to end it there. Instead, with collective frustration hanging as heavily in the air as February humidity (so chumpy, you could carve it), the S+S had the temerity to parade an endless array of awards. Best drama; best comedy; best-dressed lighting technician. best go home, many decided, sneaking, or veritably tripping over themselves and others to escape to a bar, their beds, or, for all I know, The Gap. Terry Serio is an excellent actor, but his tattered resume must have flashed before his eyes in this dramatic NDE which, had it not been so lo-o-o-o-ng, could've & would've been as funny as Derum's derelict digger.
The cringeworthy & demeaning spectre of Alex Broun, jacket-pockets chocka with nominees and winners, executive stage-managing, shuffling uncomfortably and 'man-handling' his presenters, was quite a spectacle; not to be repeated, I hope. Sponsors, special guests, patrons, ladies & gentleman, I'm sure, squirmed, as we did, in vicarious embarrassment. In seeking to Oscarise, corporatise and globalise S + S, its organisers seem to be lapsing into a holey hyper-reality even Billy Crystal would have a hard time patching with wisecracks and one-liners. Serio, dripping with his world's-best-practice parodying of gameshow inanity & insincerity, did his best, but I'm sure even he knew all was lost, early on, through appalling choices, timing, lack of rehearsal and organisation. There were, admittedly, moments when it all came together. Moments. The rest were irredeemable, even given a mountain of Minties. So next year, please God, let's have no applause for nominees, less awards, fumbling, masturbation & control-freaky oversupervision of an out-of-control presentation. Awards for unsung, unheralded crew, who uncomplainingly inhabit the darker regions behind the curtain, like martyred possums are, doubtless, deserved and long overdue. But these familial indulgences are for backstage bubbly.
There were many plays, as above, ripe for celebration. But a short, crisp summation of winners would have done the trick. And we could've all been home the same day we left it.
Short + Sweet Sydney 2009
Gala Performance
Venue: York Theatre | Seymour Centre, Sydney
Date: Sat Feb 21
Visit: www.shortandsweet.org
READ THE FULL LIST OF WINNERS»
Photos:
Top Right - A Safe Pair of Hands
Bottom Right - 49 Stories About Brian Mackenzie
Cover - Remembering the Kites
