TRAVELLING NORTH

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          Travelling North by David Williamson. 

Directed and designed  by Cate Clelland. Costume Design Team: Claire Middleton, Darcy Abrahams and Cate Clelland. Lighting Design: Craig Muller. Sound design Neville Pye. Properties Brenton Warren. Canberra Rep Theatre. June 11 – 27 2026. Bookings: 0262571950

Reviewed by Peter Wilkins                       

 

Danielle Spiller as Frances, Margeaux Arundel Williams as Sophie, 
Matilda Millar-Carton as Helen in TRavelling North.

Playwright David Williamson has been described as the storyteller of his tribe. Plays such as Travelling North, currently playing at Canberra Rep provide a glimpse of ordinary middle class Australians at a time in their lives when they are responding to the events within their own lives and the social circumstances of their time. Williamson’s comedies of social manners are witty and perceptive insights into the foibles and follies of human nature, as well as comments on the circumstances of the time. Travelling North was written by Australia’s most successful playwright in 1972 in the declining year of the Vietnam War and the resurgence of the Labor Party under Gough Whitlam. Former Communist Party candidate Frank (Pat Gallagher) and his companion Frances (Danielle Spinner) are celebrating their first anniversary together by seeking out an escape from Melbourne to the far north of Queensland, away from family and friends and in a place where they can begin a life together in their latter years. Frank is in his Seventies, a widower, with a daughter Joan (Stephanie Lieshaut) and a son Martin whom he hasn’t seen in years and Frances is much younger and a divorcee with two adult daughters, Sophie (Margeaux Arundel Williams) and Helen (Matilda Millar-Carton). They have reached a time in their lives when they are both in search of an escape from the old and an embrace of the new.

Danielle Spiller as Frances. Pat Gallagher as Frank

With his keen insight into characters confronting a break with the past and its consequences on family left behind far away in the city and the pressures of growing older and starting a new life with a new partner, Williamson has written a play that is witty, heart-warming, cautionary and an accurate depiction of the human struggle for independence and a fresh start in life. Williamson writes real characters in real circumstances facing real pressures and searching for real solutions. They are wholly human, at times comical, at times absurdly contrary, at times contradictory and at times conciliatory. To the largely senior audience members at Rep’s production, the characters, their arguments and their responses are entirely familiar. It is what makes Travelling North such a touching, funny and accessible play.

Steven Kennedy as Freddy Wicks. Pat Gallagher as Frank.
Danielle Spiller as Frances

I was puzzled by director Cate Clelland’s static production. It seemed that Clelland, an experienced and versatile director, had focused on the thematic nature of Williamson’s work. The themes are explicitly highlighted by a production that avoids any excess theatricality. Freddie, their new neighbor (Steve Kennedy) a supporter of the war in Vietnam, offers a contrasting view to Frank, but retains the Aussie virtue of neighbourly mateship. Frank’s doctor Saul Morgenstein (Adrian Breen) expresses dismay at Frank’s decision to self-medicate after his diagnosis of heart disease. The views and relationships of the younger generation are well depicted by Lieshout and Williams and Millar-Carton as examples of sibling rivalry and family inter-reliance. Gallagher and Spiller truthfully chart the emotional rollercoaster  journey of their new found love, in which romantic love turn to dutiful love, love lost and love redeemed. Clelland appears to have focused on Williamson’s highly naturalistic text and the actors deliver the lines with conviction. Only occasionally do I have a sense of a more complex character beneath the dialogue. As Helen, the younger, more feisty daughter, Millar-Carton gives a silent moment of resentful lack of attention as Frances heaps praise on Sophie.   It is a moment in the production that allows an actor to express a deeper complexity.

Pat Gallagher as Frank and Danielle Spiller as Frances

The flow of the play on stage is hampered by Williamson’s series of short vignettes, easily managed as film but awkwardly presented on stage, which I suspect may have contributed to a production that focused more on the text than the more subtle aspects of the character. There are 13 very short scenes in Act 1 and 20 in Act 2. These are presented between scene changes that interrupt the flow and draw out the performance. Neville Pye’s sound design cleverly accompanies the brown-outs with soothing classical music, but the production remains fragmented and many of the scenes are played at the rear of the setting against a brightly painted sub-tropical plant scene. If Williamson was preparing a film script that would star Leo McKern and Julia Blake, then a stage director would need to adapt the play for the stage and a live audience.

Having said that, I as a senior member of the audience, familiar with the period and the biographical nature of Williamson’s observance of his tribe, was convinced and entertained by the performances but I left the theatre feeling that the production could have taken less time to travel on its journey.

 

  

AN ILIAD

 

 

An Iliad by Lisa Peterson and Denis O’Hare. Based on Homer’s Iliad  and translated by Robert Fagles.

 Directed by Damien Ryan.  Designer: Charles Davis. Lighting Designer: Alexander Berlage. Composer: Helen Svoboda. Sound Designer: Brady Watkins. Associate Director: Ian Michael. Greek Language Consultant: Deborah Galanos. Illusions & Magic Consultant: Adam Mada. Voice & Text Director: Charmian Gradwell. Illusions & Magic Associate: Bruce Glen. Marketing Image: Holly Ward. Cast: David Wenham and Helen Svoboda

Wharf 1. Sydney Theatre Company. Until June 27 2026.

Reviewed by Peter Wilkins

 

 The clanging sound of a chain breaks the silence in the dark. The heavy iron door rises slowly revealing bit by bit a figure standing in the shadows. He enters the open black stage and begins his tale. His story begins in the rich tones of the Greek language, urgent and forceful as though it is a drama that must be told. As the narrator David Wenham strikes a vagabond figure in a long grey coat. He rushes to the wall and chalks in Greek letters the names of Achilles on one side and on the other the name of Hector. This is the tale that the poet is compelled to tell, the bitter rivalry between mythical heroes Achilles from Greece and Hector from Troy, a rivalry doomed to death in the Trojan wars, war that continues to echo through Time.

But writers Lisa Peterson and Denis O’ Hare’s An Iliad is not merely a reimagining of Homer’s Iliad, recounting the Trojan Wars. It is a densely textured account of the human propensity to rage and its consequence throughout the deadly conflicts down the ages. Peterson and O’Hare have powerfully and revealingly intermingled the myth of Achilles and Hector with the depictions of age- old wars and contemporary conflicts, all reflected in the inspiration of Homer’s epic poem. Both lyrical and graphic the story is powerfully told by Wenham who gives a performance of heroic stature, riveting in its dynamism, plummeting the depths of human emotion and suffering, and capturing with theatrical might the violence and futility of wars, ignited by rage and fuelled by a fury that can only ultimately lead to destruction. To witness Wenham inhabit Sydney Theatre Company’s Wharf 1 theatre with such superb command of the ancient art of oral storytelling is to witness one of the country’s finest actors transport us in mind and heart to the very core of human impulse.

Suddenly the poet exits through the doorway and draws on a cart laden with boxes, paraphernalia and a large double bass with bow. From beneath the pile a hand emerges, then an arm and finally the body of musician Helen Svoboda. She is the Muse, accompanying the poet’s story with the haunting sounds of the bow across the strings or the heart-rending wails of grief from a slumped form upon the floor. It is the pain borne by women who must suffer the loss of their men in the horrors of war, and be left at home to rage against their unjust fate. Svoboda and Wenham merge into the action supporting each other with the fluid business of the play. Both Wenham and Svoboda immerse themselves entirely in the telling of the tale.

Director Damien Ryan’s weaving of the action and emotional impact of the play is meticulous. The rhythm of the business punctuates the story. At times Wenham is caught up in the relentless drama of his narrative, running around the stage to a state of exhaustion. At one time he is transfixed by Achilles’ rage at the horrific death of his lover Pantoclus. At another he stands in reverent stillness to recount the countless conflicts through history. At another he holds aloft a wood carved puppet of Hector’s young son and with only the text describes the cruel murder of the young child at the hands of the Greeks. There is no need for the violence on the stage. It is in the power of the language of Peterson and O’Hare’s text and the brilliant performances of Wenham and Svoboda in collaboration with Ryan’s sensitive and intelligent direction. Ryan directs with impeccable skill, inspiring the imagination and gently guiding the changing rhythm of the drama.  Wenham and Svoboda are unified in their connection with the story and their individual skill in telling it. To watch them unfold the play is to watch two performers create magic.  

The poet retreats to the doorway. He has endured the agony of the song that he had hoped he would never have to sing, a song sung over and over through the ages. It is the song of rage, told in the stories of endless wars. An Iliad is not an anti-war play, although it will provoke the dismay at humanity’s endless inhumanity to man. It is a play that will stay with you because it impels us to confront an urge deep within our psyche. Nor is it confined to war, although war is the ultimate expression of the rage. Dylan Thomas invokes us to “rage against the dying of the light”. Whitlam invited his supporters to “maintain the rage” and on Saturday mornings the ABC screens the music programme Rage. An Iliad shows us the result of rage from Homer’s Trojan sands to the beach of Gallipoli and the seashore of Gaza. In doing so, the Sydney Theatre Company has staged a brilliant production that provokes us to hold An Iliad’s mirror up to Nature and witness our image in the glass.

Photos by Daniel Boud.

THE GOOD BOY GAME - Q The Locals - Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre

 

Giuliana Baggoley - Alastair McKenzie as Mother and Son in "The Good Boy Game"

 

Written by Patrick Vermillion – Directed by Caitlin Baker

Performed by Giuliana Baggoley, Alastair McKenzie, Bruce Hardie & Elaine Noon.

Presented by Q the Locals – Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre – 18^th – 20^th June. 2026

Performance on June 19^th reviewed by BILL STEPHENS.

 

This play by American playwright, Patrick Vermillion, charts the results of a treatment suggested by a psychiatrist to the parents of a wayward son. It involves a system of points awarded for good behaviour.

It sounds innocuous enough and may have heralded a serious attempt by the playwright to explore the mindset that drives a child to murder its parents or even examine the circumstances in which the parents a such a child would avoid seeking help beyond the family unit.

But this does not seem to be the interest of Vermillion who appears more interested in pushing the boundaries of audience tolerance with his play in which the actions of his characters are so repellent and unbelievable as to destroy any interest in the outcome of their repugnant behaviour.

Upon discovering that their bitter, nihilistic 16-year-old son is about to commit an atrocity, his parents decide to try to de-radicalise him by following a rewards-based points system recommended by their therapist. Their expectation is that by following this system they could convince their son to see the benefits of being a “good boy”.

Keeping him tied up in their attic, the parents visit their son regularly. The father, tellingly, arms himself with a golf club for these visits. During a visit when the father is alone, the son convinces him to release him from his restraints, then viciously stabs him to death.

When his mother discovers what her son has done, instead of seeking help, she comforts the son in a long scene during which he confesses his desire to engage in a sexual relationship with her. She responds by admitting to similar fetishes, eventually removing her underpants and placing them over his head.  

At this performance, both the long grisly murder, and the sexual admissions, drew nervous laughter from some in the audience, though not because they were funny. Far from it. More because of their absurdity.

As the play continued it became even more difficult to work out whether the audience was meant to receive it as comedy, drama or satire, principally because the director and her cast appeared to struggle to settle on a consistent tone or reality in which the characters could convincingly exist.

Alistair McKenzie and Giuliana Baggoley as Mother and Son in "The Good Boy Game"

Giuliana Baggoley and Alistair McKenzie, as the mother and son, carried the weight of the play. Baggoley vacillated between naturalism and hysterics in her efforts to portray the author’s intentions. McKenzie on the other hand was genuinely unsettling with his naturalistic portrayal of the lightning-fast mood swings of the deranged son.

Bruce Hardie and Elaine Noon did the best they could with the thankless stock roles of husband and therapist.

Therefore, while it was obvious from the brave performances by the cast, and from the impressive set, props, lighting and sound, that a lot of time and effort had been lavished on this production.

So in the absence of a printed program or other documentation which might have informed the audience who those cast and creatives were, many were left to wonder what it was about this play, beyond the opportunity to demonstrate her ability to work with provocative material, that attracted Caitlin Baker to this play with its frivolous approach to a deeply human dilemma, as a worthy vehicle on which to exercise her undoubted directorial talents. 

                                                         Photos by Caitlin Baker

COHEN NOIR: THE BEAUTY, MYSTERY AND ROMANCE OF LEONARD COHEN. ADELAIDE CABARET FESTIVAL 2026

 

 

Cohen Noir: The Beauty, Mystery and Romance of Leonard Cohen. Monsieur Camembert. Adelaide Cabaret Festival. Dunstan Playhouse. Adelaide Festival Centre. June 20 and 21 2026.

Reviewed by Peter Wilkins

 

Monsieur Camembert presents Cohen Noir: The Beauty,Mystery
 and Romance of  Leonard Cohen. Photo: Claudio Raschella

Leonard Cohen’s spirit must have been smiling down on Monsieur Camembert’s stunning homage to the iconic legend, the profound “poet laureate of pessimism”. Anyone fortunate enough to have been in the Dunstan Playhouse at Monsieur Camembert’s performance of Cohen Noir: The Beauty, Mystery and Romance of Leonard Cohen at the Adelaide Festival Centre were witness to a triple treat that they would remember for years to come. Cohen Noir is a celebration of the man, his music and his songs, introduced by narrator Yaron Hallis of the three time Aria Award winning group. The show is backed by a remarkably talented ten-piece band, totally adept at gypsy, jazz, klezmer, Latin American and classical. 

Yaron Hallis. Photo Brook Mitchell

The show opens with a Jewish prayer, haunting in its solemnity and segues into Gypsy Wife. This is classic Cohen, reverberating with longing. Hallis punctuates the songs with references to Cohen’s own words and introduces the singers who bring their individual style to the songs. Lyn Bowtell, Timothy James Bowen and Diana Rouvas show the range and depth of Cohen’s talent. Their singing embodies the spirit and diversity of Cohen’s view of life. Cohen is the poet of sombriety and his lyrics are cries from the heart. I had some difficulty at times with Rouvas’s lack of clarity with the lyrics although her voice embodied the very soul of Cohen’s music. Hallis invited violinist Susie Bishop to emerge from the band to sing with the three guests. Her vocals soared with crystal clarity towards the voice of Cohen, recorded as commentary on his philosophy of life, a life without regret but still echoing with his pensive reflections on love and humanity. This too was accompanied by the bluesy sound of Matthew Ottignon’s tenor sax and Mark Harris’s ritualistic throat singing as he played the Double Bass. Cohen’s gypsy existence, the Jewish spirit of the fiddler on the roof, brushed along the violin strings of Ben Adler’s klezmer rhythms while Susie Bishop provided a more classical accompaniment. Each member of the group shone in their solo tribute to Cohen’s enticing art.

Yaron Hallis and Victor Valdes. Photo: Tony Egan

Surprisingly, the concert took an astounding turn when the 50 members of the local Born on Monday choir entered at the rear of the stage to provide backing for Cohen’s classic Hallelujah. Backed by the choir, played by the band and sung by the singers this rendition was more than a showstopper that had the audience in raptures but was also a glorious ode to a unique musician who for the people in the audience represented the spirit of survival and the will to carry on through all life’s trials and tribulations as long as there was love.

Monsieur Camembert’s show was a phenomenal celebration of Cohen’s life, music and lyrics and his insightful perception of life’s struggles but this concert at the Adelaide Cabaret Festival was also a tribute to his power to bring people together, to sing in unison the chorus of Everybody Knows, to join in impulsively with Hallelujah and to become united as one community in the  encore  of Dance Me To The End of Love. Its hypnotic incessant rhythm enveloped me still as I left the theatre, uplifted by the magnificent performances by the band and the singers and moved by Hallis’s narration and Leonard Cohen’s voice espousing the great poet’s  philosophy and observance of life. This was a highlight of my Adelaide Cabaret Festival experience and I left my final show uplifted by Leonard Cohen’s artistry, Monsieur Camembert’s brilliance and Cohen’s inspiration to embrace love, life and death.

 

 

OFF THE CUFF

 

 Off The Cuff – Shortis & Simpson at Smith’s Alternative, Canberra, June 21 2026

Reviewed by Frank McKone

John Shortis and Moya Simpson, since their first appearance in the one-time School of Arts Cafe in Queanbeyan as the Shortis & Curlies in June 1996, have created themselves into an original work of art in their own right.  They write and sing songs with a built-in sense of humour – often satirical of social and political norms, yet always under-pinned by warmth of humanity.

The full house today, perhaps entirely of mature members of our community, was a measure of the warmth of feeling in response to Moya and John beyond mere enjoyment of their show – with our appreciation of their particular place in our lives.

My reviews over all these 30 years are available at www.frankmckone2.blogspot.com, and here at the Critics’ Circle blogspot since 2010.  Though Off The Cuff will not be their final show, with at least more political satire planned for later this year and a 100th Year celebration of the opening of Old Parliament House in 2027, the show today is a kind of wander through their personal stories from Moya’s teenage years in London and John’s professional beginnings, writing children’s songs for the ABC.

Each song has a story behind it.  Waterloo Sunset is a reminder of the days when Moya had to catch the train from Waterloo Station to Yorkshire for teacher training – almost sentimental.  But then John cannot stop himself writing a Theme Song for today’s show, even though the wandering has no theme.

Moya responds with a combination of Whiter Shade of Pale and Streets of London, taking her to Piano Man – that is John himself.

It is the interplay between the two of them, not just as a team of two performers but as a married couple, full of banter and laughter, which we all feel part of.

The range of songs - from I’m Not Afraid / I’m A Green Pea to parodies of politicians – like President Trump who, in his first time in office, according his tweet, met the Prince of Whales (who is now, of course, King Charles III, at least in England, or King Charles I of Australia) – is constantly surprising.  I count 17 songs in Act One and 13 in Act Two.

Perhaps the one we laughed about most was the famous quote from the newly arising Tony Abbott, which they had used for the title of their song and a whole show in 2013 – The Suppository of Wisdom.

On the other hand, Moya presented songs of many other singers who had been important to her, such as oldies like As Time Goes By, Blue Moon and Autumn Leaves.  Without being sentimental, love is the force in all John and Moya’s work.

 

 

 

BETTIE BOMBSHELL - A NIGHT OF BURLESQUE ADELAIDE CABARET FESTIVAL 2026

 

 

Bettie Bombshell – A Night of Burlesque. 

Space Theatre Adelaide Festival Centre. Adelaide Cabaret Festival. June 18-19 2026.

Reviewed by Peter Wilkins

Hoots and hollers, screams and shrieks as each item of costume slips and slides away. Bettie Bombshell is your mischievous Emcee of the Burlesque. With a smirk and a smile and a beckoning palm to raise the roof, the Glam Reaper  promises a night of burlesque like no other and she and her company of burlesque artistes deliver with all the panache and sexy sassiness of the sensuous art of the striptease. That’s what it's all about Bettie tells us – tease and glamour, timing and fun and on opening night of A Night OF Burlesque in the Space at the Adelaide Festival Centre, Bettie Bombshell will set off a blast of entertainment with all that slap on the bum cheekiness that makes burlesque a panacea to banish the blues. What one can expect from the Number 1 burlesque artist in Australia and Number 2 in the world is a top-class night of whip-cracking wicked desire, a sumptuous banquet of star-studded burlesque.

 

Lyla Labelle

Bombshell has handpicked four of Australia’s classiest, sexiest and best burlesque artists to give her show that special zing. Blonde siren Lyla Labelle does it with a boa, luring the victim to her seductive charm. There is an air of defiance and dominatrix control to her steady art of authority. Like a spider luring its prey to the web, Labelle has you in her lair. Winchester Angel is a devilishly daring vixen with her fire-eating  to set her act aflame. This is burlesque with flair. As the strippers of the vaudeville era told Gipsy Rose Lee, “Ya gotta have a gimmick”, Karlee Tiana Misipeka takes them at their word with a Barbie number in a remote controlled car all pink and sugary to titillate and delight.

Rhys Lightning

For a change of mood, Bombshell introduces a new work to the accompaniment of girlfriend Rain on guitar, providing a snake charmer’s seduction to the prowling artiste. Bombshell traverses the boundaries of burlesque to show that it is more than feathers, boas and fans. Her show teases; it entertains and it educates. It is liberating, empowering and political. And finally for something entirely different Rhys Lightning moves with serpentine swiftness, the Satan of male strippers strutting with peacock bombast and muscular athleticism.

The night ends with a celebration of the artistry and sheer fun of burlesque and a night to fill the room with joy and laughter. To bare all before a room packed with strangers is more than an act of teasing and impish fun. For an hour audiences are entranced, enticed and edified. It is an ultimate act of self determination and self-expression. From devilish playfulness to the artful languor of the striptease, Bettie Bombshell and her guest seduce and surprise in a fun night of desire and delight.

Photo of Bettie Bombshell by Georgia Maloney

The Good Boy Game

 

The Good Boy Game by Patrick Vermillion USA).  Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre – Drama, Q the locals. June 18-20  2026

Reviewed by Frank McKone
June 20

Creatives & Production Team
Writer: Patrick Vermillion    Director: Caitlin Baker

Cast & Characters
Alastair McKenzie as James; Giuliana Baggoley as Mary-Beth
Bruce Hardie as Sam; Elaine Noon as Judith

Running time: 100 minutes without interval

Audience advice:
Contains coarse language, references to sex, misogyny, violence, murder and other mature themes.
Also contains simulated physical and gun violence, explores mature/taboo themes and contains loud noises and flashing lights.

Recommended for ages 16+ 



The Good Boy Game is Sigmund Freud’s Oedipus Complex theory made explicit.  

In Sophocles’ original play, Oedipus Rex, Oedipus kills his father and marries his mother without knowing they were his parents.  In Vermillion’s play, taking Freud’s misinterpretation of the ancient Greek myth literally, 16-year-old James knowingly kills his father, and “marries” his mother (though not finally including incestuous sexual intercourse).

Set in modern America, the actors need to express highly complex emotional details, rapidly changing as the characters each rationalise their attitudes.  The intention behind every character’s words creates a change in direction in the other’s response.  All done at rapid pace in quite short scenes on each of the three settings, with the quick changes headlined on the upstage projection screen – the family dining room, the attic and the counsellor’s rooms.

This set design is simple, but very effective in keeping the drama moving.

All four actors, in action and in argument, drew our attention tightly to follow a highly complex examination of this young man’s avowed intention to kill as many people as he could, because of his hatred – of society, where he saw himself as being on the outer.

“How do good boys become dangerous men?”, is the central question, and asks, can an approach using reward points offered for good behaviour, with losses for bad, and ‘priced’ – just as we do with money – change the boys’ behaviour for the better?

The play’s answer is ‘No’, despite Giuliana Baggoley’s remarkable efforts as James’ mother.  Her role in the story is crucial to our understanding of toxic masculinity, online radicalization, and the manosphere, in light of the far too common ‘mass shootings’ in America; and Giuliana as an actor is crucial to the success of the drama.

Elaine Noon as the psychological counsellor Judith, who offers the points system, was precise in her professionalism in that role – absolutely believable to us.

Bruce Hardie as husband and father Sam, clear in his mind as a ‘progressive’ but conflicted in practice, and finally attacking his son, played the role very well to the point where his issues and responses could not fail to bring our own experiences to mind.

And then the awfulness of Alastair McKenzie’s James, especially in the final scene with his mother, was terrifying to watch.

But this is the point of presenting this drama – that we have to accept the truth of the motivations for killing, so basic to so many men.

Freud’s invention of the idea that ‘hysterical’ women who claimed to have been sexually attacked by their fathers had really brought that upon themselves – the Oedipus Complex – was a convenient lie which Vermillion exposes in Mary-Beth’s relationship with her son James.

It’s an important play – even though the conclusion is not promising.  I can only hope that this production of The Good Boy Game can have an extended run and travel further afield as it deserves.