Photo - Heidrun LohrIt's just possible Version One Point Zero have pioneered a new form of theatre. It's nothing if not didactic (and therein, perhaps, lies both a strength and a problem). This production relies almost wholly and solely on verbatim transcripts of the Cole enquiry. Ring a bell? That was the enquiry into the Australian Wheat Board's propriety in kicking-back hundreds of millions of dollars to Saddam, and his regime of torture and oppression, on the ignoble pretext of merely selling wheat, as part of the UN's oil for food program. The hard evidence mightn't exist, but, suffice to say, we could hardly be accused of being overly cynical were we to surmise that not much, if any, of the money, was spent on feeding hungry Iraqis. Hence, it became known, sardonically and, more's the pity, in all likelihood, accurately, as wheat for weapons.
DO&UU reminds of some facts that sear the national psyche like acid. Or ought. Of 2000-odd companies, from 67 nations, that rorted oil for food, in the form of kickbacks to Saddam, AWB was, far and away, the biggest sponsor, to the tune of $290m. That's a lot of effigies and a very slippery slope.
The title, in case you're wondering, harks back to Downer's response to accusations we went to war to protect our wheat sales.
So, an expose of the AWB, it's slimy croneyism, hobnobbing, corrupt and spineless executives, and our own, complicit federal government of the day, is a good thing. It's topical, too, with resonances, in the tag-team cover-up, of group sex, if it can be called that, by boofy blokes, in cheap Kiwi motel rooms.
Version 1.0 have succeeded, somewhat, in underscoring the appertaining moral bankruptcy and the patent ridiculousness of the key players' lies and evasions, as well as the injustice of these crimes against humanity going entirely unpunished, while good men who've aberrated slightly, like Marcus Einfeld, rot in gaol. But, even at a mere 90 minutes or so, there's a little too much dry transcript. No matter how inventively and theatrically staged, and it was, there's still a little too much transcript. It's a credit to the company, inasmuch as noone could accuse them of not doing their homework, or detract from their zeal in wanting us to know and understand as much about the issue as they've, quite clearly, come to know and understand. Lest we forget. The trouble is there just isn't quite enough humour, polish, lightness and brightness; despite clever lineups, wherein cast members read from the transcripts an endless series of 'I don't know's and 'I can't recall's, building to a potent, comic crescendo in which they talk over each other, more and more volubly; despite multiple screens and projections, chalk-drawn maps, hoists, pulleys, and more. There are, for all my whingeing, moments of razor-sharpness, shimmering brilliance, inspiration and hilarious characterisation. The aforementioned lineup is one. Alexander Downer is another and easily worthy of a show on its own. If Warney can have a musical, so can a fishnetted AD.
(Certainly, 1.0's heritage and experience is a substantial one, reaching right back, a decade or so, to The Dream Index, a way less earthy, tangible subject, which sought to compare and contrast logic versus the anarchic vivacity of our sleeping universes; the surreal and subjective, vs. the hard and objective. Regrettably, I never saw it, but my intelligencers tell me it was a hauntingly beautiful experiment indeed.)
If you like The Chaser, as I do, you'll like Version 1.0 and this play. Of course, I don't necessarily agree with everything The Chaser does, or find everything it does screamingly funny, or devastatingly clever. But it's critical satirical, theatrical phenomena like these exist, and are allowed to exist. Says CEO, writer and performer, David Williams, 'we're just ordinary citizens, keeping an eye on our government'. For that, more power to them.
To be fair, 1.0 had to grapple with around 8,500 pages of transcript, so they had their work cut out. Nonetheless, the excerpts seem to be somewhat arbitrary, as they probably must, given the weight of documentation. The cast even point it out. On that, there were moments when cast-members dropped out of the scenario, and character, to become 'themselves', even to explain a few things, in a kind of potted rationale. It didn't work, for mine. In fact, like the overly didactic nature of the pieces itself, it was, and is, rather patronising. It isn't deeply offensive, of course, but a little insulting. In any case, if a piece has to be explained, is it really cohesive, or coherent?
To come down to brass tacks, Sean Bacon, as 'video artist', has overlayed much that enriches, vitalises and invigorates this production. Sound wavered a little, whether this was down to 'sound artist', Gail Priest, I know not but, given this was, I think the penultimate performance at this venue and a touring production which has had plenty of time to iron-out the wrinkles, excusing such shortfalls is that much harder. For the same reason, various hesitations and stumbles by the performers (Stephen Klinder; Jane Phegan; Yana Taylor; Kim Vercoe; David Williams) are also suspect. Nor was I overly enamoured with Klinder's lighting design. So where does that leave us? Well, much as I applaud this production, in principle, & the possible new wave of theatre it heralds, despite the odd thrill, it's a work that leaves me feeling a little like I do if I'm to eat a big bowl of salad: I know it's good for me, but I don't necessarily walk away feeling all that full.
Version One Point Zero presents
Deeply Offensive and Utterly Untrue
Venue: IMB Theatre, Wollongong
Dates/Times: 20-23 May 8pm
Matinee: 23 May 2pm
Bookings: (02) 4226 3366
