The title made me a little wary. I should've taken heed. It's My Party (And I'll Die If I Want To) is, for the most part downright bloody silly. It's like the worst of Williamson, rolled into one. Ok. That might be a little harsh. The premise, of course, is ridiculous. An elderly man is told he has three months to live and, because he's a pedant who plans everything to the nth and does everything by the clock, calculates the precise time of his demise. In anticipation, with just two hours to the fateful minute, he rallies his fractured family together for one final celebration. He wants to hear that he was a good father and husband. He hasn't been. Henri Szeps has precisely the right comic disposition for the role of Ron Patterson, but Elizabeth Coleman, the playwright doesn't give him nearly enough to toy with. Sure, there's the odd nailed laughline, but that's precisely the problem: there aren't nearly enough of them.
We open with brother and sister Michael (Trent Baker) and Debbie (Sharon Davis) Patterson sitting in the family home's living room. They've the kind of awkward, argumentative, sibling rivalrous relationship that's recognisable and real, but the dialogue isn't, necessarily; worse still, Denis Moore's direction is almost parodical in its propensity to have the performers grossly overacting throughout. It's terribly patronising, as if everything needs to be hammered into the numb skulls of the rapidly ageing, non-theatre demographic which will, in all likelihood, overwhelming fill the venues the show plays, on its expansive and, doubtless, highly-profitable Australian tour. To me, it just proves there's no accounting for popular taste. After all, it's the second national onslaught for this work, which first saw light of day twenty years ago, when it broke box-office records at La Mama. It's had many outings since, both here and overseas. So, I'm definitely on the outer in regarding it as pretty tame and pretty lame.
The point is, there's no doubting the credentials of many involved with this production: from playwright to director; producer to lead actors. I'm way out on a limb. Despite my severe reservations about the play, Robyn Arthur is excellent as Dawn Patterson, a woman of a certain generation, as resilient as Tupperware and as clueless as Dr Watson. She's not exactly a feminist's pinup, but she has her wiles, hidden under her reserve.
Trent Baker doesn't really convince as in-the-closet Michael. It's not that he needs to be high camp. It's just that he seems to be bogged down with the less than well-oiled mechanics of the play and not very focussed on his character. Plus, it's all a bit contrived, despite the fact I even know of a similar situation. Michael, though married, has arrived on his own for this not-so-fond, final farewell, as his soon-to-be-ex-wife isn't happy. Despite his intimation their separation is more-or-less mutual, it was predicated on his late-night acquiescence to a kiss from a male colleague. This is no giveaway spoiler, it's flagged in the very first scene. Davis, as Debbie, is in an equally invidious position, as the argumentative sister, baiting her brother to 'fess up to his homosexuality. Yawn! It gets worse. Freya Pragt is stuck with being the over-indulged, golden-haired youngest daughter, who can do no wrong. While the dynamics of petty jealousies and historical grudges play out in virtually all families, it's usually in a more covert, understated way than is portrayed here. While adults can behave like children, they're more at pains to ennoble their behaviour as something more principled. Here, though, it's like watching kinds fight over blocks.
Finally, Matt Furlani is lumped with the role of mild-mannered undertaker, Ted Wilkins, a character one might expect to find in Father Ted, rather than a familial comedy-drama which, one hopes, amid the uproarious, might seek to shed just a little light, insight or humanity. Instead, we have histrionics to no good end; mostly, characters that don't resonate on any level; narrative desperation, with no surprises. It all seems so pointless and, to make matters worse, it's pathetically unfunny.
About the only saving grace is imaginative set design, by Shane Gurton.
HIT Productions presents
It’s My Party (And I’ll Die If I Want To)
by Elizabeth Coleman
Directed by Dennis Moore
Venue: Glen Street Theatre
Dates: 10 – 20 April, 2013
Bookings: 9975 1455
