A lavish feast for the eyes, ears and most definitely the funnybone, the deceptively simple yet thoroughly rich The Game of Love and Chance comes highly recommended.
Loosely telling the story of prince Pippin, the son of Charlemagne, and his somewhat picaresque journey through life, Stephen Schwartz’s 1972 Pippin is not your conventional musical.
Always paying homage to the 60s, when assassinations were so much more fun, Crawford has steeped the story in the richness of not-quite-contemporary language, unmistakably, laconically all-Australian
Tunks never denies or belittles his Blacktown-born-and-bred roots: he wears such, proudly, defiantly, right next to his heart, on his sleeve, as well he should
smaller poorer cheaper may be intimate, but it is certainly not small, poor or cheap. This is an eclectic mix of death-defying feats, clowning, physical comedy and dark humour.
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.
Blind faith and rational belief are always sparring partners in dramatic conflict and so it is here with the power play tinged with superstition and salaciousness.
Contradiction, conundrum, conflict, racism, misogyny and homophobia run through this play like a main circuit cable snaking through a moral minefield of explosive allegation.