Nothing quite adds a sense of reality to a “night in the woods” like a
diegetic thrum of real cicadas. At one point a chorus of kookaburras
struck up, as if perfectly on cue to provide a fanfare for Titania’s
entrance!
Young
girls tumble across the stage, flip over and over, handle enormous
numbers of hula hoops, stand on large balls, and fly, twirl and spin
through the air. And this is only the overture.
Burkett
is undoubtedly a master of guiding his cast through all matter of human
(and otherwise) gesture, but the real magic is his ability to convey
characters across his player puppets.
Boston Marriage, performing at the Darlinghurst Theatre depicts two deliciously etched bitches
with one thing on their mind. It’s not the same in each case, however.
Detailing the travails of an inept handful of (very) small-time mobsters who run afoul of the real thing, Mojo
gives us an entertaining vision of a 1958 London obsessed with imported
Rock & Roll and American fashions, yet still profoundly British
almost to the point of caricature.
Stephen Sewell’s new play, The Gates of Egypt is a clarion call to extend ourselves beyond our individual temporal concerns and act within a larger moral framework.
Bubbling
with bouncy banter including every ludicrous Aussie-vernacular-cliché
under our collective sunburnt brow, The Glass Boat loosely themes itself on
time-travel, Christmas and a mental institution.
That Eva’s been dancing since 12 should
surprise noone, since she does it with such consummate
self-assuredness: while I’m gasping, in anxious anticipation of a fatal
error, she’s dancing her heart and soul out.
