Clockfire has preserved the quintessentially Kafkaesque nature of the idea, inasmuch as the unseen man is the very epitome of marginalisation; outsider; other.
Considering it went from being a blank page to being on the stage in the space of eight weeks, it is a remarkable and highly entertaining piece of theatre. It is well directed, wonderfully acted, and altogether a thoroughly enjoyable evening.
If we're bad, can we become good? Or are all our futures a foregone, carved-in-stone, mapped out conclusion? This, of course, leads to even bigger enquiries. The biggest. Is there a God? A Devil? Did God create us, or we Her?
It's a brilliant premise. Interpret an 'invisible' woman's everyday chores in a series of dances, loosely choreographed to tunes she might know and love.
Few things could be more bizarre than Uta Uber Kool Ja's hotel room soirees, staged high above the cobblestone streets in a room with a view, at the Old Sydney Holiday Inn.
If your backside can endure an uncushioned bench for a couple of hours, a play must be pretty damn good. Andrew Bovell's When The Rain Stops Falling is better than good.
A gifted embroider of words, Friel combines soft lyricism and hard meaning in his play, a tragical comical historical pastoral on a spree and spoiling for a spirited spar.
In the care of Pinchgut Opera’s director, Erin Helyard, this music, formulaic as it indeed is in some respects, sprang off the page into an experience rich in emotions.
Contradiction, conundrum, conflict, racism, misogyny and homophobia run through this play like a main circuit cable snaking through a moral minefield of explosive allegation.