THE WARS OF THE ROSES is the second of Sport for Jove’s Shakespeare Histories compendium, ROSE RIOT. It brings the audience from Henry VI, through Joan of Arc to Richard III with a boldness and bravado of accessible imagining and uniformly excellent performances. Performed, as is its sister show THE HOLLOW CROWN (SAG Review), in the openness of Bella Vista Farm, the production is a visceral experience when close to the cast in the slatted shed and a considerable exercise of intellect when royal evil is aired on an outdoor stage after interval. Continue reading THE WARS OF THE ROSES: SPORT FOR JOVE’S STUNNING SHAKESPEARE SEASON
So desperate was I to see IRONBOUND that I wheedled and cajoled An Assorted Few to let me attend a preview on the one night I have off this week. Letting reviewers into a preview is a huge leap of faith and rarely done, and I thought that it would be close enough to ready that I could see what was what. But damn… if they get any better the earth will move beneath the Kings Cross Theatre and the iron of the building will shake and fold into itself. It is a production with four terrific performances, a production which challenges the viewer to listen and understand the beneath, a production which brings a life not our own, into blurred existence for our considered focus.
We meet Darja. A 42 year old Polish immigrant waiting on a bus stop in Jersey where she is in sight of the crumbling factory that once afforded her a kind of living and she is in a fluorescent lit place that draws her in crisis. Over the course of the play we will meet Darja over 20 years, from now when her boyfriend of convenience, Tommy, is with her in his own way, to her youth. Back then we will observe affecting love but also the tensions of unassailable difference between she and her husband, Maks, who is convinced that music is the way out of poverty. One other male will enter her world here in this barren place, Vic. The conundrum in him will bring into focus a societal rending of class and circumstance. Continue reading IRONBOUND: RAILS AGAINST THE GOING NOWHERE OF POVERTY
Call me a philistine and throw me to the Chekhovians. I don’t get. Maybe I started too young. Us drama types try and immerse in the canon early. I get Strindberg, I get Ibsen. Can’t blame it on my parents, can’t blame it on Chekhov. I mean other people get it. Do I need to get it? Probably not!
Imagine my surprise then. That in a place as strange as Marrickville, with thundering aircraft low overhead and armed with coke and chips because its going to be a sodding 2 hours long. Imagine my surprise to thoroughly enjoy what I might have called in a text to a friend beforehand… Fucking Chekhov. Continue reading THE SEAGULL: SOARING WORK BY SECRET HOUSE THEATRE
Keith Richard is my uncle. We call him Bullswool.
Keith Richards is a founding member of The Rolling Stones, guitar guru, songwriter, consumer of cocaine, and wild man of rock n roll. Playwright Benito Di Fonzo calls him Keef. And swirling around his wonderful new play, A RIFF ON KEEF: THE HUMAN MYTH, there’s a lot of Bullswool.
The truth, like the man, is out there, but the mantle of myth, layered over decades, fudges flesh with fable. Di Fonzo has fashioned a palimpsest biograph that spans seventy years taking useful information to fire his imagination and his work succeeds a great deal of theatrical satisfaction. Continue reading A RIFF ON KEEF: THE HUMAN MYTH @ SBW STABLES THEATRE