Source : the age
Roslyn Packer Theatre, until October 31
John Cleese once observed that an English person’s greatest fear was embarrassment. This is the premise behind British writer Steven Moffat’s debut play – and what a debut! Moffat, having written scores of TV scripts (including Sherlock and Doctor Who), has turned to theatre with all the assurance of years of crafting characters, plot, dialogue and, here, side-splitting comedy.
The pin around which the whizzing Catherine wheel of laughs revolves is Elsa Jean Krakowski, a middle-aged American who hails (loudly) from Denver. She’s as absurdly optimistic as a golden retriever who can smell a treat, and as garish as a toddler’s vomit after excessive M&Ms. Helen Thomson plays her to the hilt in a performance that guarantees Elsa commands the stage whenever present.
London couple Debbie (Alex Lee) and Peter Lindell (Tim Walter) have met Elsa on a cruise. She insists they look her up if they’re ever in Denver but a trip to Denver is as likely as either of them murdering someone.
That’s Elsa’s department.
Having extracted Debbie’s email, Elsa announces she’s coming to stay, whereupon Debbie Googles her, to discover she’s the prime suspect in six murders of close family. By poisoning. The Lindells, who have two teenaged children, Alex (Ty Arnott) and Rosie (Brooklyn Davies), are appalled. Or at least Debbie is: Peter struggles to work up much in the way of emotion other than anger over politics. Happiness, he tells Elsa on the cruise, is misinformation.
Once confronted by Elsa’s neon presence, the Lindells’ terror for their children’s welfare is far outweighed by their terror at being embarrassed by saying the wrong thing. Falseness and hypocrisy are their defaults.
But Elsa’s a cross between Mary Poppins and a wicked witch. If she kills – about which she leaves only jolly innuendoes hanging in the air – she doesn’t do it without good cause. Meanwhile, she’s equally capable of bringing out the best in everyone. Arnott’s Alex, for example, is the teen from hell: a flopping, farting, parent-scorning, computer-game-obsessed pest, whose default communication is whining – until tamed by Elsa. Rosie is also enchanted out of her perpetual crossness towards everyone.
Directed with phenomenal finesse by Simon Phillips on Isabel Hudson’s eye-popping set, everyone excels in roles to be relished. The expert cast is completed by Huw Higginson as the neighbour who would drive anyone to drink and/or fence heightening, and Ben Wood as the cooper who’s like a bloodhound with a nosectomy.
Moffat is not in the business of judging his characters, but of painting them with equal affection. The comedy spirals in style between early Tom Stoppard (After Magritte, The Real Inspector Hound, say) Monty Python, Carry On movies and David Williamson. In that way, it’s reminiscent of Shakespeare’s ability to pitch humour at all levels of learning, intellect and taste. Sydney Theatre Company just might have a hit on its hands.
Afterpay Arena, October 2
If the NRL were still looking for show-stopping pre-game entertainment, it would find it right under its nose in the form of this set.
The Great Divide tour is a profound performance of American singer-songwriter Noah Kahan’s most recent album of the same name but there’s also plenty of his past music in a charming indie-folk set lasting more than two hours. What’s most outstanding, however, is how it is staged.
The roof of a cabin descends from the rafters to form a small cottage for Kahan to come bursting out of as he launches into American Cars, which gets the crowd on their feet.
Ensemble Theatre, September 30, until October 24
They’re joined at the hip, aren’t they? Politics without satire leads to pollies who take themselves too seriously – and satire without politics can simply equal a dearth of laughs. Try watching Jimmy Kimmel if he stops talking about Trump.
When The Wharf Revue team decided that a quarter of a century of bagging Keating, Howard, Hanson and the rest was enough, they left an empty chair in Sydney theatre with a vague imprint of their collective posteriors. Moulding themselves to fill that absence are writer/performers Andrew Hansen, Mark Humphries and Chris Taylor, plus writer Evan Williams and performer Christie Whelan Browne.
All have TV form in the satirical arena: Hansen and Taylor were members of The Chaser, Humphries did sketches for 7.30 and The Feed (with Williams writing for both), and Whelan Browne was on Shaun Micallef’s Mad as Hell. Add the Ensemble’s boss, Mark Kilmurry, as director, and Hansen’s musical skills, and there’s some serious talent and experience on tap.
Mrs Macquaries Point, October 1
On a balmy night there was a palpable buzz in the air as a legion of loyal fans flocked to see Missy Higgins perform for “the first time” on a floating stage.
Most of us were caught unawares as fireworks boomed over Sydney Harbour from the moment Higgins began her hour-and-a-half-long set, as if to ignite Sydney’s coming calendar of outdoor performances.
Twenty-five years into her illustrious career, the pyrotechnics seemed fitting for her performance for the series of concerts dubbed The Point, and her only Sydney show of the year. The display complemented the enchanting openers: the haunting Don’t Ever and an unflinching ballad Edge of Something.
