Our first review for Theatre Of Blood
With all credit to: Australian Stage, and Lloyd Bradfors (Brad) Syke.
Theatre of Blood | Newtown TheatreWritten by lloyd bradford (brad) syke Monday, 02 November 2009 15:31
Newtown's theatre of the same name was smart to exploit Halloween, to launch season one of its Theatre Of Blood, comprising three short plays: Andre de Lorde's At The Telephone, directed by Liane Norman; Eugene Heros & Leon Abric's The Guillotine, directed by Stephen Carnell; Alfred Marchand's Orgy In The Lighthouse, directed by Stephen Hopley. The capacity crowd exploited the opportunity to indulge their wildest gothic fantasies, too: devils, ghouls and freaks were aplenty; even moreso than a typical Friday night, just off the southern end of King Street. And to cap it all off, Hopley takes on his best undertaker's demeanour, albeit as a dour Anglican priest (is there any other kind?), to MC the deliberately ghastly proceedings. In the end, his contributions were as compelling as any onstage.
The designated Theatre Of Blood website sets the dark scene deliciously: 'it’s almost witching hour in South Newtown, and you’re walking down the seedy end of King Street. Every second shopfront is boarded up; windows broken; old posters peeling away from the walls. In the distance, gothic spires penetrate the silvery night sky; the clanking of a late-night train pounds closer and closer. A gust of wind wisps its way around your neck, sending a chill down your spine. As you walk through the skeletons of two trees by a run-down apartment block, you notice every window and every door is barred tight; graffiti on the pavement announces this as Ghost Valley. Suddenly, a dimly-lit sidestreet comes into view; and there it is. Amongst the lit-up brothels and the closed-up shops, you see the sign. A couple of steps down the alley and you are greeted by a darkened stairwell. Through the doors and up you go, up, up, into the Theatre of Blood!'
It's no one-off: again, to quote the Theatre Of Blood site: 'Theatre of Blood is late-night horror theatre, in the tradition of the Grand Guignol. Each Friday night at 11, we go live, in the foyer of Newtown Theatre, with a one-hour program of three short plays. Every three months, there’s a brand new selection to entertain, titillate and frighten you senseless. So don't lose your head'.
The Grand Guignol? Named after the incisive satirist puppet (yes, puppet), it played in Paris for 65 years, between 1897 and 1962; almost exclusively producing one-act plays. It was infamous for violent and erotic works of horror. In its most renowned incarnation, it had a particularly melodramatic aesthetic, which has been very evocatively emulated in the backblocks of Newtown South. Indeed, every TOB program will feature at least one translation of an original French play from the Grand Guignol. The GG has a fascinating and colourful history that's an entertainment in itself. Spare a thought, for Paula Maxa, the theatre’s ingénue from 1917 to 1928, who was reportedly murdered over 10,000 times and raped over 3,000. Ouch!
The theatre’s influence resonated most, but not only, cinematically: it's questionable whether we would even have had the silent German Expressionist movement of the 20’s; the British Hammer Horror tradition in the 60’s; US hyper-horror, during the 70’s, as exemplified in, say, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre; or musicals like Sweeney Todd. And the influence was not merely notional: Paul Ratineau, who devised most of the stage trickery and special effects, prefigured many of those later used by Hollywood.
Remember your surprise and delight, the first time you experienced the wonder that is Wii? Or your fantastic glee, when you were introduced to the future of human relations, in the form of Facebook? Or how you tittered, when you virginally Twittered? Well, imagine the shivers of excitement that came with the telephone. Just as you've likely forked-out for iPhones for your progeny, Andre Marex bought one, at the turn of last century, so as to keep tabs on his family, in absentia. But convenience turned to curse when, remotely situated, he receives his wife's final call; for help. If not quite topical now, At The Telephone surely was, when written, in 1902, by the so-called Prince Of Terror, the Grand Guignol's reputedly greatest playwright, Andre de Lorde. And Marex' helpless torment is eerily emblematic of the powerlessness so many of us feel, in relation to war, or climate change, or even mundanities such as council regulation. And surely even Hitchcock must've found some of his mastery of suspense in de Lorde. Both have shown themselves adept at terror, as against horror.
Heros & Abric's The Guillotine (La Veuve), also known as Chop-Chop!, describes a rather comic, if menacing scene, in which a sex addict's penchant for dangerous liaisons sees her lover trapped in a museum's guillotine, with none in a rush to free him, least of all her carelessly cuckolded husband.
Finally, Marchand's Orgy In The Lighthouse, also considered a GG classic, paints a torrid, yet chillingly claustrophobic picture of two religiously deranged blood brothers, who lure two young, willing women into much more than they bargained for. For this, the front row was issued protective clothing.
The ensemble cast proved somewhat uneven, with one or two not as elegant at elocution as they might be, and some apparent struggles to stay, convincingly, in character. But when they were good, they were very, very good and the tales were well-told, wending their way through the past, ever so darkly.
If you're looking for an excuse to dress up and indulge your more mischievous inclinations, like a laugh, a cheap thrill and a glass or two of good cheer, Friday nights in Newtown Theatre's foyer promise to be something of a Sydney institution. And for the incurable culture vulture, the homage to the heyday of the Grand Guignol should satiate any pretentious appetite.
Newtown Theatre has never lacked imagination. But it still lacks adequate airconditioning, which might well prove to be the premature summertime death knell of the Theatre Of Blood if not, at long last, addressed. Now that would be ironic. And just a little tragic.
Newtown Theatre presents
The Theatre of Blood
Venue: Newtown Theatre | Cnr King and Bray Streets
Dates/Times: Friday Nights 11pm - from 30 October
Tickets: $19 / $15 concession | Dress horror and receive concession price!
Bookings: 8507 3034 | www.thetheatreofblood.com
Theatre of Blood | Newtown TheatreWritten by lloyd bradford (brad) syke Monday, 02 November 2009 15:31
Newtown's theatre of the same name was smart to exploit Halloween, to launch season one of its Theatre Of Blood, comprising three short plays: Andre de Lorde's At The Telephone, directed by Liane Norman; Eugene Heros & Leon Abric's The Guillotine, directed by Stephen Carnell; Alfred Marchand's Orgy In The Lighthouse, directed by Stephen Hopley. The capacity crowd exploited the opportunity to indulge their wildest gothic fantasies, too: devils, ghouls and freaks were aplenty; even moreso than a typical Friday night, just off the southern end of King Street. And to cap it all off, Hopley takes on his best undertaker's demeanour, albeit as a dour Anglican priest (is there any other kind?), to MC the deliberately ghastly proceedings. In the end, his contributions were as compelling as any onstage.
The designated Theatre Of Blood website sets the dark scene deliciously: 'it’s almost witching hour in South Newtown, and you’re walking down the seedy end of King Street. Every second shopfront is boarded up; windows broken; old posters peeling away from the walls. In the distance, gothic spires penetrate the silvery night sky; the clanking of a late-night train pounds closer and closer. A gust of wind wisps its way around your neck, sending a chill down your spine. As you walk through the skeletons of two trees by a run-down apartment block, you notice every window and every door is barred tight; graffiti on the pavement announces this as Ghost Valley. Suddenly, a dimly-lit sidestreet comes into view; and there it is. Amongst the lit-up brothels and the closed-up shops, you see the sign. A couple of steps down the alley and you are greeted by a darkened stairwell. Through the doors and up you go, up, up, into the Theatre of Blood!'
It's no one-off: again, to quote the Theatre Of Blood site: 'Theatre of Blood is late-night horror theatre, in the tradition of the Grand Guignol. Each Friday night at 11, we go live, in the foyer of Newtown Theatre, with a one-hour program of three short plays. Every three months, there’s a brand new selection to entertain, titillate and frighten you senseless. So don't lose your head'.
The Grand Guignol? Named after the incisive satirist puppet (yes, puppet), it played in Paris for 65 years, between 1897 and 1962; almost exclusively producing one-act plays. It was infamous for violent and erotic works of horror. In its most renowned incarnation, it had a particularly melodramatic aesthetic, which has been very evocatively emulated in the backblocks of Newtown South. Indeed, every TOB program will feature at least one translation of an original French play from the Grand Guignol. The GG has a fascinating and colourful history that's an entertainment in itself. Spare a thought, for Paula Maxa, the theatre’s ingénue from 1917 to 1928, who was reportedly murdered over 10,000 times and raped over 3,000. Ouch!
The theatre’s influence resonated most, but not only, cinematically: it's questionable whether we would even have had the silent German Expressionist movement of the 20’s; the British Hammer Horror tradition in the 60’s; US hyper-horror, during the 70’s, as exemplified in, say, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre; or musicals like Sweeney Todd. And the influence was not merely notional: Paul Ratineau, who devised most of the stage trickery and special effects, prefigured many of those later used by Hollywood.
Remember your surprise and delight, the first time you experienced the wonder that is Wii? Or your fantastic glee, when you were introduced to the future of human relations, in the form of Facebook? Or how you tittered, when you virginally Twittered? Well, imagine the shivers of excitement that came with the telephone. Just as you've likely forked-out for iPhones for your progeny, Andre Marex bought one, at the turn of last century, so as to keep tabs on his family, in absentia. But convenience turned to curse when, remotely situated, he receives his wife's final call; for help. If not quite topical now, At The Telephone surely was, when written, in 1902, by the so-called Prince Of Terror, the Grand Guignol's reputedly greatest playwright, Andre de Lorde. And Marex' helpless torment is eerily emblematic of the powerlessness so many of us feel, in relation to war, or climate change, or even mundanities such as council regulation. And surely even Hitchcock must've found some of his mastery of suspense in de Lorde. Both have shown themselves adept at terror, as against horror.
Heros & Abric's The Guillotine (La Veuve), also known as Chop-Chop!, describes a rather comic, if menacing scene, in which a sex addict's penchant for dangerous liaisons sees her lover trapped in a museum's guillotine, with none in a rush to free him, least of all her carelessly cuckolded husband.
Finally, Marchand's Orgy In The Lighthouse, also considered a GG classic, paints a torrid, yet chillingly claustrophobic picture of two religiously deranged blood brothers, who lure two young, willing women into much more than they bargained for. For this, the front row was issued protective clothing.
The ensemble cast proved somewhat uneven, with one or two not as elegant at elocution as they might be, and some apparent struggles to stay, convincingly, in character. But when they were good, they were very, very good and the tales were well-told, wending their way through the past, ever so darkly.
If you're looking for an excuse to dress up and indulge your more mischievous inclinations, like a laugh, a cheap thrill and a glass or two of good cheer, Friday nights in Newtown Theatre's foyer promise to be something of a Sydney institution. And for the incurable culture vulture, the homage to the heyday of the Grand Guignol should satiate any pretentious appetite.
Newtown Theatre has never lacked imagination. But it still lacks adequate airconditioning, which might well prove to be the premature summertime death knell of the Theatre Of Blood if not, at long last, addressed. Now that would be ironic. And just a little tragic.
Newtown Theatre presents
The Theatre of Blood
Venue: Newtown Theatre | Cnr King and Bray Streets
Dates/Times: Friday Nights 11pm - from 30 October
Tickets: $19 / $15 concession | Dress horror and receive concession price!
Bookings: 8507 3034 | www.thetheatreofblood.com