★★★
Adelaide Fringe. Jack & Jill’s Basement Bar. 15 Mar 2023
Eric is a former submariner with Her Majesty’s Navy. He served on nuclear submarines and has signed the Official Secrets Act, which prevents him from disclosing any information that might be against the interests of the British state. So, what can fifty minutes of ‘tale telling’ by a submariner really get into? Well, as it turns out – lots, and its intriguing and funny.
The show is billed as comedy/storytelling, but it’s not stand-up, which is a blessing in disguise, because if it were it might well have inevitably slipped into gratuitously bad language and sexual innuendo. This show has none of that. Rather, it is a heartfelt and genial rendering of Eric’s time in the Royal navy and the adventures he has experienced. And there are lots of those: some very funny, others achingly sad (but usually with a well-timed rib-tickling punchline!), and one or two that are genuinely distressing.
Eric’s description of his initial training, especially about how to escape a submarine, are jaw dropping. The stories he tells are richly described – you almost feel you are there but are glad you aren’t! – and they come thick and fast.
Eric is a generous and warm fellow, and you can believe that the safety of the free world was in good hands when he was below the waves. He has a free and inclusive style with the audience, and it seems there might always be former servicemen and women at his shows. They keep him sincere (but I don’t think he has a dishonest bone in his body!) and can be heard muttering agreement and endorsement of his reflections.
When the show was over, I walked back up the stairs in the daylight with a smile on my face and better appreciation of the life of a submariner – with its danger, deprivations, mateship, and salty humour – but all the time glad that it was never me!
Kym Clayton
When: 15 to 18 Mar
Where: Jack and Jill’s Basement Bar
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
Adelaide Festival. Festival Theatre. 15 Mar 2023
The curtain lifts and a giant fabric is risen into the air, and then another. They twist and bellow with unworldly suspension. And then they are let go and infused with a life of their own; the fabrics defy gravity. They are beautifully lit and dance to music in a mesmerising show. The audience applauds. That was only the first five minutes and a harbinger that, for the following fifty-five minutes, we would also feel a lightness of being.
Circus performers Seth Bloom and Christina Gelsone have developed a sublime show in collaboration with kinetic sculptor Daniel Wurtzel. From their base in New York City, their touring physical theatre company, Acrobuffos, has taken Air Play to over ninety theatres worldwide and has been seen by 150,000 people.
The clowns appear in monochromatic outfits of yellow and red dressed like Depression-era young adolescents. An older brother teases his sister mercilessly as they playfully bring out their aerially unchallenged toys from their colour-coordinated suitcases. There are stunning kinetic tableaus of floating orbs and twinkling stars abiding in the heavens, and one gasps at the wonder of it all. It’s all coordinated with mood-altering musical selections and subtle lighting by Jeanne Koenig to create a visual and audial feast. Bloom and Gelsone are highly expressive with childlike gestures and grimaces of pure joy and wonder, and their physical clowning is delightful. Some of the balloons are big enough to fit into and they do a hilarious scene within the giants.
Director West Hyler can direct the performers but the activities of the gravity-defying objects is unique every show. So is the audience participation and it’s amazing how frequently people seem more mischievous or incompetent than helpful. Consequently, the balloon-over-the-audience bit, like at a rock concert, lingered longer than it should have. And like siblings, they had a falling out and seemed to go their separate ways with their suitcases; this was emotionally charged but laden with pathos.
Air Play is a show for all ages. It’s a simple idea but extremely difficult to actually create and execute as the six years of development attests. This is a dream of flight come true in all its beauty and grace. Bravo!
David Grybowski
When: 15 to 19 Mar
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: adelaidefestival.com.au
★★★
Adelaide Fringe. James Clark. Crack Café. 15 Mar 2023
Finding the Crack Café can be a challenge, since it’s tucked away behind Victoria Square in what seems a seedy locale, but find your way upstairs and there’s a perfectly presentable venue with a perfectly presentable host. James Clark hails from Sydney, where he works in a bank (‘Which bank?’ I have no idea). He has a luxurious spread of hair and a presentable manner, except perhaps when he begins describing nurses by their attributes rather than their skills. To be fair, he seemed to find most women offensive, from their weight (which affects his ability to get an erection while being nursed) to their skill sets (Serena Williams? Oh, yeah, she gets paid the same as men for playing three sets instead of five…).
He began his evening show with an observation; he’d recently seen SAPOL’s police greys, opining that he was taken aback to discover a police force who still used horses. ‘How did they perform an arrest?’ formed the basis of the next little sketch. In the same way as anyone else might, I suppose, since the NSW Police have horses, as do Victoria Police and many others, I’m sure.
That little warmup over, it was on with the show, James engaging audience members to help him flesh out his corporate ideals. This was confusing. We learned later that he had once been caught in flagrante delicto in the bank, but little else. This seemed odd for a show which billed itself about being for Corporates and the work/life balance, for James was most comfortable interrogating his audience and using their material rather than developing his own, or indeed delving into the corporate world.
He found an HR person from the Police (she quickly pointed out she was not uniform branch), a cagey man who ‘did things’ and ‘traded things’ and ‘procured things’ (who he labelled a drug dealer), and there was a teacher in the front row who wore red shoes and had been with his partner for 40 years. These are not corporate types. Lastly, through judicious questioning James unearthed a woman who confessed to having been sent penis pictures, and to having saved them on her phone. In a photo album. Why this became quite the cause celebre I cannot say, but it is clear James’ fancy was tickled.
Also, clearly, this had little to do with comedy for corporates. Now I know this review seems sour and confused, and the 55 minute show was in no way bad, but the lack of real direction, the fact that little of the show seemed to have anything to do with ‘work life balance’ and the fact that he seemed quite interested in pictures of penises made me wonder if a scripted show existed or if ‘seat of the pants she’ll be right’ was more the order of the night.
Perhaps he was here to practise a little social anthropology.
At one point he mentioned murder and barrels, so he’d done some research into the state’s finer points, although at several responses to questions he suggested South Australian ‘flexed’, which I assume to be a posturing display. And just like that – with a hastily thrown in ‘I’ve been James Clark. Goodnight’ it was over. I do wish they’d practise a wrap and an outro, at the very least. It would make all the difference.
Alex Wheaton
When: 15 to 18 Mar
Where: Crack Café
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au
Adelaide Festival. The Space. 14 Mar 2023
What a charmer!
Quick sticks. Grab a ticket now. Staff only half-joked that they’d need a shoehorn to fit the full house into the Space for the opening night of Maureen: Harbinger of Death. Clearly that mysterious “word” had gone out. This is the 2023 Adelaide Festival “sleeper”, the show not to miss.
And such a simple offering it is. One performer seated on a chair against a voluminous backdrop of kitschy old-school velvet drapery.
Upon the chair is a Jonny Hawkins who, with Neil Ranney, has devised this confection of pure Australiana. Of all things, it is an homage to old ladies.
Maureen not only is purportedly a friend to Jonny and to all the gays of Kings Cross, she is a quintessential old gal of the Bohemian school. She is a student of the society around her, a nurturer with a sharp eye, a big heart, and an hilariously caustic tongue.
In his brief introduction, Hawkins says she is actually a composite of myriad wise and wicked nonagenarians of his acquaintance, maybe some right here in the audience. Perhaps not. Maureen is a product of Kings Cross. She is as Sydney as the harbour and all those stinky tiled front bars on The Rocks. She has “that accent” with the drawn-out vowels, an affectation which is so, so Sinny. She is both an ornament and a relic of The Cross.
She lives on the fourth floor of an old apartment block, smoking, reminiscing, and celebrating the joyful mythology awakened by people’s stories.
In lieu of the young gay male visitors she so adores, she adopts a member of the audience as her gentleman helper. A lady never lights her own cigarettes. Respectfully, he proffers the flame and helps by offering around Jatz crackers from a huge tin. If a hostess can’t offer sandwiches…
And, he shares her little black book whence, as it is passed through the audience, Maureen calls for names to be read out, each name being catalyst to sagas of people loved and lost in her life. They are funny, sweet, and sour stories. Each one arresting in its own right, together painting a vivid profile of an Australian cultural landmark in its heyday.
It is so tempting to give examples but, after meeting Maureen, one feels that she is a pearl in a special Sydney rock oyster shell which must be opened fresh and alive to each audience.
She is an experience to be savoured in person and never to be forgotten.
She is a Festival gem.
Samela Harris
When: 14 to 18 Mar
Where: Space Theatre
Bookings: adelaidefestival.com.au
★★★★★
Adelaide Fringe. Live Witness Theatre. The Yurt, Migration Museum. 12 Mar 2023
String.
String theory (that physics theory thing).
This show is that, and more.
It’s all about the long/short reality of being a human. And that’s a lot of stuff and work to through and process - for both the audience and the performers - in an hour.
It works!!!
Seated in the round at The Yurt we are intrigued as a light box is unveiled. Strings of different sizes and thickness are taken from it. Ok. Show title, check, string.
It can and is made to do many things, including shapes defining and defying space and presence.
This play with string and the idea of string as stringing togetherness continues even though we haven’t worked it out yet.
The greatest gift of this piece of magic performance is rediscovering the sheer joy of meaning in disjointed syllables, blurted sad tales, life mistake stories, the invitation to warm remembrance. So much more is seen and experienced. It’s such a mind-awakening, socially and humanly conscious joy. Hold on to the string.
Director Keir Aitken delivers a wonderfully warm, engaging production which - in partnership with musician Max Garcia-Underwood - flows with brilliant, gentle and alive spirit. Aitken’s direction of his cast in physical work and space utilisation is utterly perfect.
This show is what you go to the Fringe for.
David O’Brien
When: 11 to 19 Mar
Where: The Yurt
Bookings: adelaidefringe.com.au