Accidental
Death of an Anarchist by Dario Fo and Franca
Rama, directed by Clare Moss for Limbo Theatre Co in collaboration with Honest
Puck, 1-4 August.
The
Judas Kiss by David Hare, Directed by Karina Hudson for
Mockingbird Theatre.
Reviewed by
PHILLIP MACKENZIE
IN the past
fortnight two new theatrical enterprises have strutted their stuff on
Canberra's stages, each winning a warm round of applause – the fledgling
Mockingbird Theatre with The Judas Kiss and Limbo Theatre Co (in a
co-production with Honest Puck) with Accidental Death of an Anarchist,
adding their weight to the plethora of existing companies.
Some of the
latter will have to look to their standards if they are to survive in this
maelstrom of initiative and talent.
 |
| L. Damon Baudin, R. Hayden Splitt |
The Dario
Fo/Franca Rame modern classic Accidental Death of an Anarchist, skilfully
directed by Clare Moss, is the perfect launching pad for the Limbo/Honest Puck
collaboration, wildly comedic and
searingly satirical.
The talented
cast work as an ensemble to pull off some of the most difficult slapstick
stunts while presenting creditable, if venial, characters and lampooning the
corruptibility of organs of state. One might make the comparison with the
classic Charlie Chaplin/Buster Keaton/ Monty Python styles, but this should not
obscure the originality of the Fo/Rame product.
The play is
the authors' response to an real-life incident in which an innocent
demonstrator falls victim to the machinations of the flawed forces of the law,
impersonated by Hayden Splitt in the multiple roles of the Maniac, persecuted
by the inept Bertozzo, Pissano, and Superintendent (Nick Steain, Izaac Beach
and Damon Baudin with the support of the gullible constable(s), Anna Van der
Velde).
So athletic
and acrobatic are these actors in their endlessly energetic encounters with
vengeful filing cabinets and other furniture that one fears for the longevity
of the set – particularly the hard-working door, whose trembling frame only
adds to the theatrical silliness of the show.
The original
script is not entirely flawless as it tends to run out of steam in the second
act and clunks a little with faux Fo
material referencing later political targets, as
well as committing the crime of introducing a new character in the last 15
minutes – the reporter Feletti, played by Imogene Irvine, who has a tough time
catching up with and matching the madness of the rest of the ensemble.
 |
| Liam Jackson as Lord Alfred 'Bosie' Douglas and Chris Baldock as Oscar Wilde |
DAVID Hare’s play, The Judas Kiss, opens in Oscar Wilde's rooms at the Cadogan Hotel, London, on the day that
Oscar needs to decide whether to flee to Europe or to stay and go to jail.
Before the
debate begins, however, we are treated to a gratuitous display of
Sex-in-the-Victorian-city, as performed by the downstairs maid (Meaghan
Stewart) and the apprentice butler (Cole Hinder). Their little uninhibited
gambol, it turns out, has nothing to do with the rest of the play, which
proceeds after Arthur's boss Sandy Moffatt (Arran McKenna) puts an end to their
fun and games.
Enter the
noble Robbie Ross, (reliably acted by Patrick Galen-Mules) one-time lover of
the Great Man, and his successful rival, the rather less noble Lord Alfred
'Bosie' Douglas, played less
successfully by Liam Jackson; and Chris Baldock, playing Oscar Wilde.
Under the
direction of Karina Hudson in her debut directorial role, the three men engage
in a complex and wordy debate-cum-contest for the role of advisor to Wilde, in
which the central figure vacillates and philosophises across a range of themes.
It is a
debate that cries out for at least an occasional display of the Wildean
flamboyance amid the tendentiousness of the Wildean intellectual
philosophising. But Baldock sets himself on the latter path, while morosely
sipping his red wine, masquerading as ‘hock.’
BY Act II, Wilde
has served his 18-month sentence for gross indecency and, after interval, we
join Wilde and the nasty Bosie in Naples where we find ourselves in another
nude scene involving Bosie, modestly wrapped in the bed-linen and the sexy
Galileo Masconi (played by Benjamin Balte Russell) who, declining modest
coverage, converses in fluent Italian with the equally fluent but now
down-fallen yet still verbose Wilde who is now destitute-on-principle and
suffering from an apparently terminal bout of writer's block.
The script skips
the prison period, during which Wilde wrote his last major piece, De
Profundis, and thus gives inadequate background to Wilde's state of mind as
an exile.
Baldock
provides a sound representation of the central character's physical properties,
intellectual arrogance and moroseness without getting waylaid by any suggestion
of emotional stimulus.
Bosie,
having been lured by the promise of Mummy's money back into the family circle
from which he had strayed, makes a feeble effort to encourage the lover whom he
had betrayed to mend his ways and take the proffered 30 pieces of redemption.
After a final assignation with the compliant Galileo,
Bosie leaves Wilde bereft and heading towards death.
While Bosie
and Galileo are off on a final fling downtown, the faithful Robbie arrives with
news of Oscar's wife and children, but not much else to help Oscar to get back
in the saddle.
