MTC: Love Song
Sometimes there's a script that just hits home and hits a chord with you. Last night, sitting in the dark of the Fairfax theatre, experiencing John Kolvenbach's Love Song, something spoke to me beyond the seeming themes of happiness versus loneliness. But within the confines of a seemingly simple set, and what at first seemed understated lighting, a set of two very different but both touching love stories unfolded before us, touching on something a little deeper than the typical boy meets girl and then a spanner is thrown in the works.
In director Craig Ilott's notes, there was a comment made as to whether and audience could warm to a character who is a little on the mad side, but perhaps by the end of the play we are expected to wonder who is the more mad of the lot - the character Beane who has divorced himself from almost all material belongings and can experience life for what it is - or the sister, Joan, who has all but forgotten the passion and love that her husband, Harry, and her share for the persuit and obsession with a high power career. To a degree it is demanded of the audience to answer the question, what is a worthwhile relationship and perhaps more forcefully, if it makes us happy, is it wrong? Secondary to these concerns there are smaller themes of capitalism and the modern rush of life, depression and alienation in an increasinly rapid-moving society.
Ilott works with some fine designers and with a beautiful understanding of tableau and stillness to bring to life Beane's appartment - what can only be described as a dinge, with one armchair of peeling leather, a chair and table and a free standing lamp that 'makes the room darker' and delights in squeaking in an alien way, telling a story of its own. Contrasting to this, on the flip side of a devider made of frosted glass, revealed by a full stage revolve, is Joan and Harry's appartment - a slight nod to minimalist culture perhaps, but a bright and colourful room, with a couch that is used as a coffee table and oversized wine glasses.
The cast diligently peels back the layers and enticingly draws the audience into a world one usually would not want to dither in. Julia Zamiro brings an incredible life to the stage, taking with her a seriousness as Joan that we are perhaps unused to seeing in such a well known comic figure. She brings essential grounding to the play, as a woman who has been gripped by the corporate need for deadlines and order, juxtaposed with both the softness and tenderness of a lover and sister. Greg Stone plays a delightful foil to this role with comic intracacy and softness, but with an edge that works against Zamiro for scenes of tension, but pulls them together in scenes of tenderness. Stone doesn't stay within caricature however, and really shows his true talent in his closing monologue, really drawing in focus and bringing us back to reality. This is a powerful performance, even though at times his accent slips a little.
The real delight in this performance is Thomas Wright, playing the lead role Beane. This role would easily fall into absurdity and be discounted without his softness and innocense bringing some beautiful subtlety to the role. At first I was unsure if I'd be able to feel anything - or indeed find real and captivating - for a character who not only is isolated to the point of complete insularity, with his higher childlike voice and an strange affection for his sole possession - a tin cup. And yet, somewhere between the writing and Wright's conviction to the delivery, you start to feel something change in the way you want to see the world too. Physical and vocal control not only make Wright easy to miss at the start of the production, but gravitate attention and eyes toward him at the most key points. Caroline Craig, taking on the tough role of playing both the agressor in this relationship, but the equally innocent Molly takes a little time to warm up, but shows her true colours in an inspiringly and shockingly beautiful scene where the pair tell the story of the first night they met.
The company use the revolve with ease, and the Fairfax is perhaps used to one of its most optimum use of space for quite a while. The play reaches a complete climax with the stunning closing image of Beane going outside - all lamps in the lighting rig are illuminated, giving the stage a spectacular outdoor wash as Beane breaks through his apartment wall while the stage revolves a final time. This draws together what can only be explained as the slight of hand of this production, which is unusual in MTC productions of late, where the final image is both unexpected and refreshingly beautiful. The brevity of this production left me emotionally invested in the characters and enthralled in the beauty of the space.
Perhaps we don't see enough of this kind of story - a love story with a twist. What is essentially just people living their life over a week or two, and we have become so very used to seeing tricks and fripery that we forget how beautiful something so simple can be. Part of the strength of this production, comparing to the larger scale shows we have seen at the MTC this year - such as Season at Sarsparilla or Rock and Roll - there was something refreshingly delicate about this work. All elements seemed to hang in the balance and pull against eachother in a measured and often alluring way. The simplicity of projecting blind sillhouettes on a glass background, or a mildew pattern to establish place, or the soft addition of sound effects to a stark landscape to add features to the setting really drew the eye towards the actors and the script. This was a production that seemed nothing was trying to convince the audience that there was more happening than there actually was, which was perfectly lovely to absorb. Contrary to many MTC shows I have seen in recent seasons, I left wanting a little bit more rather than feeling I'd seen three endings too many.
John Kolvenbach's Love Song directed by Craig Ilott is on at the Fairfax Theatre until the 19th April.
In director Craig Ilott's notes, there was a comment made as to whether and audience could warm to a character who is a little on the mad side, but perhaps by the end of the play we are expected to wonder who is the more mad of the lot - the character Beane who has divorced himself from almost all material belongings and can experience life for what it is - or the sister, Joan, who has all but forgotten the passion and love that her husband, Harry, and her share for the persuit and obsession with a high power career. To a degree it is demanded of the audience to answer the question, what is a worthwhile relationship and perhaps more forcefully, if it makes us happy, is it wrong? Secondary to these concerns there are smaller themes of capitalism and the modern rush of life, depression and alienation in an increasinly rapid-moving society.
Ilott works with some fine designers and with a beautiful understanding of tableau and stillness to bring to life Beane's appartment - what can only be described as a dinge, with one armchair of peeling leather, a chair and table and a free standing lamp that 'makes the room darker' and delights in squeaking in an alien way, telling a story of its own. Contrasting to this, on the flip side of a devider made of frosted glass, revealed by a full stage revolve, is Joan and Harry's appartment - a slight nod to minimalist culture perhaps, but a bright and colourful room, with a couch that is used as a coffee table and oversized wine glasses.
The cast diligently peels back the layers and enticingly draws the audience into a world one usually would not want to dither in. Julia Zamiro brings an incredible life to the stage, taking with her a seriousness as Joan that we are perhaps unused to seeing in such a well known comic figure. She brings essential grounding to the play, as a woman who has been gripped by the corporate need for deadlines and order, juxtaposed with both the softness and tenderness of a lover and sister. Greg Stone plays a delightful foil to this role with comic intracacy and softness, but with an edge that works against Zamiro for scenes of tension, but pulls them together in scenes of tenderness. Stone doesn't stay within caricature however, and really shows his true talent in his closing monologue, really drawing in focus and bringing us back to reality. This is a powerful performance, even though at times his accent slips a little.
The real delight in this performance is Thomas Wright, playing the lead role Beane. This role would easily fall into absurdity and be discounted without his softness and innocense bringing some beautiful subtlety to the role. At first I was unsure if I'd be able to feel anything - or indeed find real and captivating - for a character who not only is isolated to the point of complete insularity, with his higher childlike voice and an strange affection for his sole possession - a tin cup. And yet, somewhere between the writing and Wright's conviction to the delivery, you start to feel something change in the way you want to see the world too. Physical and vocal control not only make Wright easy to miss at the start of the production, but gravitate attention and eyes toward him at the most key points. Caroline Craig, taking on the tough role of playing both the agressor in this relationship, but the equally innocent Molly takes a little time to warm up, but shows her true colours in an inspiringly and shockingly beautiful scene where the pair tell the story of the first night they met.
The company use the revolve with ease, and the Fairfax is perhaps used to one of its most optimum use of space for quite a while. The play reaches a complete climax with the stunning closing image of Beane going outside - all lamps in the lighting rig are illuminated, giving the stage a spectacular outdoor wash as Beane breaks through his apartment wall while the stage revolves a final time. This draws together what can only be explained as the slight of hand of this production, which is unusual in MTC productions of late, where the final image is both unexpected and refreshingly beautiful. The brevity of this production left me emotionally invested in the characters and enthralled in the beauty of the space.
Perhaps we don't see enough of this kind of story - a love story with a twist. What is essentially just people living their life over a week or two, and we have become so very used to seeing tricks and fripery that we forget how beautiful something so simple can be. Part of the strength of this production, comparing to the larger scale shows we have seen at the MTC this year - such as Season at Sarsparilla or Rock and Roll - there was something refreshingly delicate about this work. All elements seemed to hang in the balance and pull against eachother in a measured and often alluring way. The simplicity of projecting blind sillhouettes on a glass background, or a mildew pattern to establish place, or the soft addition of sound effects to a stark landscape to add features to the setting really drew the eye towards the actors and the script. This was a production that seemed nothing was trying to convince the audience that there was more happening than there actually was, which was perfectly lovely to absorb. Contrary to many MTC shows I have seen in recent seasons, I left wanting a little bit more rather than feeling I'd seen three endings too many.
John Kolvenbach's Love Song directed by Craig Ilott is on at the Fairfax Theatre until the 19th April.