Ca Va cabaret review

Presented by: Joanne O’Callaghan for the Melbourne Fringe Festival
Venue: The Butterfly Club
Reviewer: Susanna Nelson
Date Reviewed: Monday 6^th October 2008

South Melbourne’s little gem, The Butterfly Club is the perfect setting for this little piece of Vaudeville, replete with its dusty books, sailing ships in corked bottles and exotica from the colonies of old: voodoo wood carvings, Chinese wall hangings and scary-looking anatomically incorrect dolls with spears. The little bar at the back beckons for a quick pre-show drink and then we are ushered through to the tiny velvet draped theatre.

This one-woman show – part cabaret, part gentle stand-up – calls for the audience to be transported to the early twentieth century, the era of Edith Piaf and Louise Brooks, of smoky bars and silent films; a time when French maids actually dressed in fetching black mini-dresses with white broderie anglaise trim and bobbed black hair was mandatory. In many ways this is a character so familiar as to be cliché – the lovelorn woman-child with a knack of falling for the wrong man, the clumsy, yearning dreamer, the tart with a heart. But Joanne O’Callaghan, as our feisty heroine Elaine, wills you to come along for the hour-long ride.

O’Callaghan is immediately engaging, entering down the cramped isle of the theatre belting out a show tune and simultaneously entering into patter with the audience. It’s hard to tell if the people she interacts with are plants or whether they are members of the general public. But she never misses a beat, managing to turn a couple of apparently unscripted moments to her advantage and eliciting wry chuckles and genuine laughs here and there as she weaves her tales of love, loss and waitressing through a semi-familiar soundtrack which features such standards as ‘Que Sera’ and, of course, ‘La Vie En Rose’.

Cameron Thomas tinkles the ivories on the upright piano as O’Callaghan fills the room with her powerful voice and physical presence. There’s no dancing as such, but lots of movement and rushing around as Elaine acts out her vignettes – carrying the show along on a wave of Gallic charm.

Although the show is advertised as ‘Vulgar brass with just a little sass’, it has a gentle, variety show feel – like an episode of the Muppets or the Two Ronnies – with splashes of comedy and well-timed pathos. There’s little plot to speak of but like the aforementioned television classics, there doesn’t need to be. It’s sweet and safe.

There is something fearless about O’Callaghan – perhaps it is the protective costuming that allows her to seem simultaneously vulnerable and gutsy, natural and staged all at once. She lives the character completely, never missing a beat or dropping her accent or demeanour when interacting with the audience, so that it seems that this little songbird from another era, with her twinkling eyes, quick-fire delivery and perfect pitch, really is straight off the streets of gay Pa-ree.

The finalé sees our heroine discard the props that have bound her to us for the last hour – the false eyelashes, black wig and de trop (though admirably consistent) French accent – and belt forth one final number as her natural red curls cascade around her face. For all the accoutrements she has used to weave her story, this is the most powerful number of the show.

Appeared on Theatre People website.

Waterdale Originals Plays 07

Waterdale Originals Plays 07
Presented by: SPX Waterdale Players Inc.
Venue: Banyule Theatre, Heidelberg
Reviewer: Susanna Nelson
Date Reviewed: 6th October, 2007

Waterdale Originals was a strikingly simple idea which started with two young actor writers, Shane Sanfilippo and Luis Riviera, assembling a group of their peers to write and perform in a series of eight short original plays. With backing from the Foundation for Young Australians and BOObook Theatre, the result is an engaging mix of themes and concerns – the plays range from the playfully abstract to the highly personal.

There is an impressive depth and maturity to the script writing and an honesty often lacking in plays written by more experienced professionals. Most of the writers also have roles in their pieces and are responsible for the show’s production, so the project is a true ensemble effort and a valuable showcase of the talents of the group.

The evening plays out as a series of conversations – between teacher and pupil, bartender and barfly, psychic and client. Some of the pieces explore classic teenage dilemnas – for example, the student on the bus in love with the unattainable girl at the back – while others make forays into surrealism and the satire of talk shows and office politics. The sets are simple and the focus is clearly on the dialogue rather than the spectacle of the performance. As with most community theatre, there was probably also a shoestring budget to consider.

First up is Bus, set on the morning bus trip to school, where a young lovelorn man pines after a vacuous, unpleasant girl who ignores his many advances. His best friend, a girl, warns him against this folly, but in the true spirit of the young romantic he refuses to listen. It’s a simple scenario, but it is realised with humour and energy by its cast and writer Shane Sanfilippo, who clearly has an ear for the cadences of youthful longing.

Guidance, by Martin Dunlop, cleverly tackles a young man’s attempt to confront his sexuality at school. The conversation which evolves between the student and his alcoholic teacher (played for laughs by the writer himself) takes in dark humour and, in the words of one of the characters, ‘self indulgent monologues’, and ends with a lobotomy for the young man, which his teacher assures him will cure him of his homosexuality, and, as a side benefit, allow him to ‘enjoy commercial radio’ and ‘watching cricket for hours’. It’s cleverly observed and much more subtle than it sounds. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a niche for Dunlop in comedy writing.

Session One conveys the high drama and unintentional humour of television psychics and talk shows. Writers Romina Carfi and Bianca Molini spar as a Paris Hiltonesque blonde and her hapless beau. Both women do a fine job of creating unease and combine a sense of the sinister with the humour of the familiar.

Next up are the two male co-workers who have fallen asleep on the job in Concept A. We watch as they scramble for a concept to present at an upcoming meeting. Writer Mark Petrolo seems to have a firm grip on the spin and hypocrisy of the business world, and the play is mature and very funny.

Georgia Antonello plays a barfly in her piece Barry’s, about a bar owner who spends his whole life in his self-named bar, boring and charming the regulars in equal measure. The titular character certainly seems to draw his identity from his life as a bartender – but is his name really Barry?

Spilt Coffee, penned by Shane Sanfilippo and Angie Bedford, depicts two friends reliving the highs and lows of their friendship as they prepare for a radio competition trip to Bali. The piece is a light moment before the dark finale, Family, which explores grief and domestic violence with powerful performances from three leads, Lonni Allan, Romina Carfi and Greta Georgiou, dressed in stark black outfits on a minimalist set. The play commences with the characters chanting their lines as if in Greek chorus, and as the layers of the story are peeled back, we understand the context of their words. It’s clever, non-linear writing, and a complete absence of props allows us to concentrate on raw, believable performances – with a particularly impressive depiction of barely restrained contempt from Carfi.

All the plays are solid, but it is perhaps those which work outside the bounds of conventional storytelling which are the most powerful and effective, and these seem to work with minimal (or no) reliance on music, props, costumes or complicated lighting.

The cast does an admirable job of realising their own visions, and the performances are consistent and solid. Ultimately though, the night is about young playwriting talent, and I enjoyed being taken on a journey into the psyche of these young writers immensely.

Susanna is a trades journalist by day and a culture vulture and reviewer of just about anything by night. Since her days as a cinema student she has had two passions – writing and singing. Writing pays the bills, but if she were ever offered the opportunity to tread the boards in a Broadway musical, she’d turf out her Mac in an instant.

Appeared on Theatre People website.