The Ballad of the Unbeatable Hearts: absolutely unbeatable

If I could get away with writing a review that said Richard Fry is a genial genius, and you should go and see anything and everything he does because he is a genius and very genial, I would.

Of course, that’s not possible. So clearly – because I take my job as a reviewer very seriously – I will have to tell you why you should – nay, must! – go and see his latest show The Ballad of The Unbeatable Hearts.

Firstly, some background. I first saw (and met) Richard Fry at last year’s Fringe, when he performed in Smiler (which he also wrote), and which made me cry. But in a good way. Richard was also very genial and humble off stage, and made himself available to mingle with Fringe folk, seeing other shows and getting in amongst it. He is also quite lovely on Twitter, and will generally tweet back if you @mention him (although he’s not following me back yet…*shakes fist*! I’m @dileeshus nudge nudge, hint hint if you are reading this review, Richard!).

So, to say that I was thrilled to be seeing – and reviewing! – Richard’s new show would be an understatement. And he did not disappoint (and I was just as thrilled that he recognised me from last year).

I love intimate theatre. And Higher Ground, as a venue, is brilliant for that. While I didn’t quite make the front row (I was in the second), I was only around 2 metres away from the stage. And the stage isn’t so much of a stage as an elevated area. One step and you are there. The beauty of being so close is that you can see the emotions of the actor as he or she performs. It is honest theatre, that’s for sure. (Also, the actors themselves tend to hang out there between shows. Last night, I got to thank the actors of Outland for their performance – if you read my review, you’ll know why that’s important. But I digress.)

Richard’s sets are always minimalist and quite simple, which I love. The props don’t get in the way of the story. Instead they support the narrative, like a chair, a book, a snippet of music (I know music’s not a prop, but it fits nicely here!). There are no elaborate costumes, nothing to distract from the story that is unfolding for the audience. Everything is carefully though out, and nothing is there unless it has a purpose. Unless it is supposed to be.

Unbeatable Hearts is told mostly in rhyme. To my mind, this is a clever narrative technique because Richard’s subject matter is dark. Very dark. Rhyming – which seems child-like and innocent on face value – makes the subject matter no less confronting, but much more accessible. Rhyming draws the audience in by cloaking the story in the familiar and safe, allowing the narrative to flow and the characters to develop. Before you know it, Bam! You’re hooked.

This play has a number of main characters, and each one performed beautifully by Richard. From the nurse, who gave the main character the telling off of a life-time, to the parents who had lost their children to suicide, each one added another dimension, another layer to the story. Through them, we are forced to confront tough issues.

Oh, you see I’ve mentioned suicide? I’m glad, because I was wondering how I was going to bring that up, given it’s generally a taboo subject. The play is about suicide, and how lost gay souls could – if given the chance and not forced to make life and death decisions because they have no tribe and no sense of belonging – contribute to helping make the world a better place. The play is about the suicide of young, gay teens, and why we need every single one of them. It’s also about how they can be saved.

Unbeatable Hearts is an emotional ride, no doubt about it. I was laughing one minute, in raptures the next, than really angry, then moved to tears. In Richard’s deft hands, I was putty. Despite what I said earlier, this review cannot do justice to the depth, honesty, pain and passion of The Ballad of The Unbeatable Hearts. I am not that skilled a writer. You simply must go and see it for yourself.  But you must be prepared to be confronted and be challenged. You must be prepared to walk away knowing that you, personally, have a responsibility to make a difference. You cannot walk away from the play without being fundamentally affected.

Suffice it to say, Richard made me cry again. And that’s a good thing.

Last words

For those of you who have seen the play, here is a link to Unbeatable Hearts’ Facebook Page.

Forget “save the cheerleader, save the world”. Much better to save a young gay person, and make the world a place where “gay does not mean shit”.

Outland was a Wonderland

I learned last year that any Centre for International Theatre play takes the audience on a scenic journey, skillfully weaving character and narrative into a compelling, riveting story. Outland is no different and certainly does CIT proud. Once again we get a rich glimpse into the mind and make-up of a historical figure, this time, Lewis Carroll. (Note: I always want to find out more about the person portrayed after seeing a CIT play.)

From the moment you are ushered into the theatre – or rabbit hole! – by the play’s characters – to the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy no less! – you know you are in for something special. Don’t expect rows of seats, either: the audience is a very real part of the play, and are invited into the narrative by the olde worlde nature of the set.

It took me a good five or ten minutes to work out what was going on, but that’s a good thing. I don’t mind at all. Any CIT play is a journey, and as an audience member, don’t expect to be passive. Once I worked it out, I was hooked, and the unfolding of the narrative was a joy to watch and be immersed in. And I was totally immersed. From characters sitting down talking to me, to me helping with props and being part of a crew, I revelled in the fact that little old me was aiding and abetting in the telling of a story.

And the story was so well told. Beautifully framed and scripted, the cacophony of characters transitioned between worlds smoothly and easily, taking audience members along with them. What was created in that tiny space – with three characters, a tightly crafted script and a musty set – was the perfect dream world. It was beautifully, joyfully, lovingly done.

At the end of the play, the dream was not broken. Unsure of what we were supposed to do, the audience was ushered, blinking, from the rabbit hole into the bright lights and mirrored corridors of the Adelaide Colleges of the Arts. And that’s my only criticism: I couldn’t clap. I couldn’t tell the actors how brilliant I thought they were. I couldn’t show my appreciation for their exquisite crafting of a story. I had no closure!

So I am telling you now: bravo!  Jethro Compton, Serena Manteghi and Dominic Allen, you were wonderful. You created a wonderland for your audience. Lewis Carroll would have been proud.

Chants des Catacombes haunts the old Gaol.

Set in the atmospheric Old Adelaide Gaol, Chants des Catacombes is a sumptuous, rich show telling the stories of three murdered women.

A mix of dance, cabaret, theatre and song, this show completely draws you in. There won’t be a single moment to stand still and consider tomorrow’s to do list, or wonder if so-and-so has replied to that email. Literally you will not stand still. The show takes the audience on a promenade inside the Gaol, imaginatively using the different spaces and levels. Performers weave through and around the audience, leading them deeper into the Gaol and the story.

Three stories entwine, the Courtesan murdered by a lover, the performer forced to consort with the enemy and the surgeon limited by her female body in an era and profession dominated by men. Their stories are macabre, moving and while set in a bygone era easily resonate today.

The three main performers, Anna Boulic, Nicola Andrews and Laura Burzacott are fabulous and boy can they sing. Their three voices blend beautifully and surprisingly the acoustics in the old Gaol work wonderfully.  One note though, unless you are used to deciphering a French accent, it can be a little hard to understand what is being said in some of the scenes.

The small touches and embellishments in this show also make it an experience that engages all the senses. From taste of wine, spices and fruit courtesy of the  sangria offered as you enter the premises, to  the smells of the old building and the sense of physical confinement as you move from space to space, peering into the old cells.

I loved this show, the atmosphere, the stories and the music. A mixture of old and new, the songs are ones you will recognise with the accompaniment is provided by a Melbourne duo called the Twoks, who just might be my new favourite band.

Chants des Catacombes is here for a short season, if you want a different Fringe experience that is truly engaging, go visit the Old Adelaide Goal after dark.

Sinfully sweet late night lolly

Liesel Knievel fills the stage at the Cupola as the sassy, shamelessly sexual and funny Lolly P. Jones in Hardboiled Lolly. This mix of cabaret, stand-up comedy and satire follows Private Investigator Lolly P Jones as she shares the tales of three different jobs. Taking you from undercover in the country music centre Nashville through to Shanghai and then into the realms of Masterbaking (say that one quickly) Lolly P. Jones tales (and exploits chasing tail) make you laugh out loud.

Lolly P. Jones is a great character, you can’t help but warm to her and get involved in her antics. Meanwhile Liesel Knievel clearly loves playing Lolly and she is the perfect vehicle for Knievel to display her considerable comedic, singing, and sassy talent. This is comedy but with a twist, and I challenge you to find a show of 55 minutes that manages to fit in as many alliterative double entendres as Hardboiled lolly does and to music no less.

Hardboiled Lolly is a fun late night romp you want to savour and not crunch through.

Warning – Audience participation.

 

Porcelain Punch Travelling Medicine Show

Written by Andrea Taylor

Taking its cue from the travelling medicine shows popular in the 19th century, Porcelain Punch provides an hour of entertainment with an old timey flavour that had me leaving with a face sore from laughing nearly non-stop. With everything from a hula-hooping strongman, a clever contortion act to child-star, Shirley Crumple, Porcelain Punch is most certainly “the pick of the bunch”. But, of course, none of these acts would have been possible without the efficacious elixir that gives the show its name.

The venue is small but the intimate setting is perfect; with Dixieland tunes welcoming the audience as we filed into our seats I remarked to my friend that I felt like I was settling in for the sort of act that wouldn’t have been out of place in an old touring circus, making me think of the show Carnivàle. I wasn’t far off as the show combines new circus, music hall style numbers and comedy to create an accessible variety act that authentically captures the spirit of medicine shows.

The creator of the miracle tonic, Professor Leonard Grad, and his accordion wielding companion, Miss Elle May Rose, navigate the audience through the various acts, including Little Timmie Strongman, the Malleable Miss Molly Minks and Miss Bugsy Belle, whilst doing their own share of entertaining. Miss Elle May transfixed me with her beautiful, haunting voice when she took centre stage for a couple of ditties on her mandolin, which she plays as adeptly as she does the accordion.

Afterwards you can pick up your own bottle of Porcelain Punch, created especially for the show by Alechemy Brewing Co. I can’t promise that buying a bottle will cure all your ills, but after spending an hour with these charming and bizarre characters, I certainly felt revived!

[Ed's note: Welcome to our newest team member Andrea Taylor (@andibgoode). Andrea plays the ukelele, has killer vintage and is the author of the delightfully prim blog www.andibgoode.com]