Cairns Can Do No Wrong
10 May 2012 3 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: James Cairns, Taryn Bennett, The Kalk Bay Theatre
It’s official: I’ll see anything James Cairns is in. The man is astoundingly talented and I can’t say enough good things about his performances. With Sie Weiss Alles, I can add his writing to the mix too.
Despite being happy to see Cairns even if he were reciting extracts from the OED, it was a particular pleasure to watch him perform Sie Weiss Alles for the second time after seeing it at the Grahamstown National Arts Festival in 2011, where it deservedly won a Silver Ovation Award. It is an absolute gem of a script, being nuanced, multi-layered and very, very clever.
Set at the end of World War Two, the play opens with the intriguing tableau of an intimate scene between an SS Officer and a young German woman. Faced with the certainty of an imminent and brutal death at the hands of the encroaching Russian army, fate has thrown into the captain’s interrogation room a woman from his past, brought in for questioning when her father disappears under suspicious circumstances that smack of American defection. Now, he is faced with an endgame of impossible choices. They both have nothing to lose and everything to play for. And so they begin.
The script is beautifully crafted, working on multiple levels of meaning as the pair pass the time by becoming actors in their own version of Hamlet. This act becomes a complex means of negotiating trust, of sizing up and testing boundaries, as they tread the textual line that spans more than just the physical distance between Denmark and Germany. In the drama of the high stakes games they are engaging in, truth is up for grabs to the best performer.
At once witty, clever and deeply disturbing, the play is a complex, beautifully crafted expression of human need, the meaning of acting a role, the high stakes of trust. A war story with a difference, the two-hander is brought beautifully to life by the tight direction of Tamara Guhrs and riveting performances by the actors.
Cairns will blow you away with his understated desperation, his portrait of a man at the end of his rope. It would be so easy for this piece to sink into melodrama, but he paints with such nuance that one believes the character absolutely. Taryn Bennett carried the action extremely well as a woman dexterously treading the line between truth and desire, safety and honesty.
The play-within-a-play element sees both actors having to act the slow building of meaning in the process of acting and, despite the multiple rehearsal scenes this entailed, I was riveted throughout. It is a testament to their performances that not one beat was missed, the tension never wavered and, despite some technical interference on opening night, the pair effortlessly held the audience in the palm of their hand throughout.
Go and treat yourself to the best piece of new South African writing I’ve seen in a long time. Sie Weiss Alles is a tour de force of local talent.
Classic Cabaret at Kalk Bay
12 Mar 2012 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: Godfrey Johnson, Roland Perold, The Kalk Bay Theatre
Coward & Cole has opened to a revamped dinner theatre venue at the Kalk Bay Theatre. Featuring the musical talents of Roland Perold and Cape Town local maestro Godfrey Johnson, the show pays joint tribute to the individual songwriting genius of Noel Coward and Cole Porter.
The duo are slick and the arrangements are exciting – these are gifted musicians as well as seasoned entertainers and, fortunately, their collaboration plays to each others’ strengths. Musically, the show is a satisfying slice of nostalgia, served with a local twist. The performers tread a delicate balance between celebrating the original spirit of the songs and adding modern flair – the accents, for instance, play homage to the over-articulation of the stylised 20s radio host, but lapse, to amusing effect, into plat South African vernacular. Whilst this works surprisingly well for the most part, Perold’s rolling r’s are decidedly more Boerewors Curtain than British clip – an accidentally amusing side note to an otherwise flawless vocal performance.
Personal highlights included an exquisitely moving interpretation of ‘Mad About the Boy’ and a cracking (and seasonally appropriate) “It’s Too Damn Hot.” For those who appreciate a good inside giggle, there’s even a little poke at the local performance industry with a naughty ad lib addition to the rambunctious ‘I Went to a Marvellous Party.’ Both performers look the part in immaculate evening dress, barely ruffling a cuff at even the most taxing virtuoso moments. Johnson particularly has a captivating stage presence – his facial expressions range from the sly sideways glances to stares of such soul searching intensity that each audience member feels pinned to their seats by his eyes alone.
Johnson and Perold have attempted to capture some of the stylised spirit of the era by keeping running banter going between numbers. This didn’t always hit its mark on opening when there were several timing and teething issues, but promises to gain smoothness as the show gels.
With a brand new dinner theatre menu now on offer, Coward & Cole will satisfy both those who long for a little old fashioned entertainment as well as Perold and Johnson’s individual loyal cabaret followings. If you’re looking for mood music, you’ll find yourselves in luck at Kalk Bay Theatre.
Catch the Dating Dis-ease
20 Oct 2011 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Shirley Kirchmann, The Kalk Bay Theatre
‘Catch’ is on at the Kalk Bay Theatre. In it, Shirley Kirchmann plays Talulah, a thirty-two year old singleton, with the angst of a Bridget Jones but the mouth of Vinnie Jones.
‘Catch’ certainly doesn’t lack on energy. But does it deliver on style? For me, Talulah and Shirley seem to overlap and meld into one at times, leaving the piece caught between coming across as either overly-rehearsed stand up or under-prepared theatre. A little more directorial distinction between sections and it could have been framed as a witty, fourth wall breaking piece of theatre, or – with Talulah dispensed with – a slick piece of stand up. As it was, it felt slightly schizophrenic to me, rather like a date who can’t decide who she’s going to be for the evening.
Kirchmann is a very authoritative performer – a bit of a powerhouse. She uses that oomph to storm the gates of the single psyche and doesn’t hold back from controversy in the process. Personally, I didn’t mind her potty mouth, but some of the racial stereotypes made me cringe. I think that’s the nature of riding roughshod over dating terrain in this kind of performance – Kirchmann’s out to confront, she’s looking for a reaction. You’re going to react.
Don’t go to ‘Catch’ for nuance. Go for every excruciating date you’ve ever suffered through alone and miserable, thinking ‘this would make a really good bad joke’. Because it does.
Bertha is Back
27 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Anthea Thompson, The Kalk Bay Theatre
Anthea Thompson gets everywhere these days. From playing opposite Sir Anthony Sher in the Fugard run of Broken Glass to making up part of the formidable foursome of the cast of comedy show Cracks in the City, Thompson has had a very good year on Cape stages indeed.
It was in her Cracks role that Thompson first brought to life the character of Bertha Cummings - an over-the-top OAP, hypochondriac and dispenser / purveyor of fine pharmaceuticals (including the ever-popular ‘Remedy Blue’). Thompson, deservedly, has quite the loyal following in Cape Town but now Bertha, too, has begun to create her own buzz as people fall for the wacked-out old woman who’s not afraid to turn her hand to a bit of dealing.
Anthea Thompson as Bertha. Photo by Andrew Brown.
Bertha hobbles onto stage once more in Living Remote: Bertha’s Guide to Love, Life and Pharmaceuticals, showing at the Kalk Bay Theatre. You can expect the same seller-schtick from Cracks as she diagnoses audience maladies and concurrently offers to cure them with her marvelous stash of medicines…for a small fee, of course.
Thompson is a remarkably canny character actress: she sits in a role and plays it perfectly. Accent, movement and costume, all work – and are worked – to realise the belligerent Bertha. And audiences seem to love her antics.
…a pity, then, that the same didn’t hold for me. While Anthea’s performance was as strong as ever, her material seemed strangely thin, unrealised, unsatisfying. Accounting for differences in senses of humour (and I realise from the many hearty audience guffaws that there are many), I felt the routine relied too heavily on simple slapstick, visual gags and on, frankly, easy laughs.
Part of this is the style: much of the humour lies in the props and the show is meant to be very physical. For me, though, there is a fine line between slapstick and simplistic and Thompson went for the easy laughs too often for my liking. Anyone can, for example, see where complaining about her ‘acute angina’ might be going and, sadly, that’s the extent of the laugh that we’re allowed.
Whilst there is no doubt that Anthea Thompson is a classy character actress and Bertha a clever creation, this show doesn’t quite live up to the hype for me. Laughter may be the best medicine, but this spoonful was slightly hard to swallow.
Make up your own mind about Bertha: Living in Remote by seeing it at the Kalk Bay Theatre for the next three weeks. Bookings on 073-220 5430.
Watch Rose’s Narrative Unfold
17 Jul 2011 1 Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: The Kalk Bay Theatre
‘Rose’ has opened at the Kalk Bay Theatre. A one-woman tour de force, actress Fiona York takes us through a Jewish woman’s ritual experience of sitting shiva – sitting in mourning for losses. Through Rose’s shiva, we come to hear about her life and thoughts on life and living, love and loving, identity and identifying.
‘Rose’ is a tale of halves – the first is very focussed on her life during World War Two, the second follows her life after it. The first is very pro-Israel, the second becomes much more disillusioned and nuanced. Unlike most love stories, this one pushes past the triumph of requited love and narrative satisfaction of marriage. Unlike most war stories, this one doesn’t stop when the bullets do. I heartily appreciate this kind of writing, one that does not take the simple satisfaction of seeing a problem from one side – how easy and justifiable to do in the powerful narrative of a Holocaust survivor – and emotively convince the audience with its singular perspective.
It’s an interesting text – in many ways an important text – but I also found it a rather tricky text from both an audience’s and a performer’s perspective. ‘Rose’ is a mammoth undertaking for any performer. One actress must sit still on a wooden bench and just…talk. For a shade over two hours, she must cover the gamut of emotions narrating the range of her unusually varied life alone on stage. The lighting is basic with only subtle variations in quality, the background music only used to segue in and out of intermission. There is nothing other than a bottle of water and glass as props. In other words, there is nowhere to hide. The text is an actor’s minefield – one misstep and the entire atmosphere is blown. York makes no missteps. She’s accomplished and confident – a talented performer with that wonderful ability to make you believe she’s talking directly to you and piercingly blue eyes that seek you out and won’t let you look away.
It’s not just a one-way street, though. This play asks a lot of an audience, too. So much happens. ‘Rose is one woman’s story of a lifetime of pain and pleasure, love and loss. There’s a lot of loss. There’s a lot of love. By the time we were on hotel number two and husband number three, I must confess I found myself a little restless. Whilst there is a lot of humour to balance the darkness, there is an awful lot for the audience to digest and no visual variance to help the narrative unfold.
In a play that is so dependant on words, then, voice work is absolutely central to the experience. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t really buy into York’s accent. Whilst it could conceivably be the result of a woman who had been forced into living in many different places in her life, I kept hearing an incongruous Irish accent (this before I found out that York is, in fact, Irish). It made it harder for me to work into the emotion, lose myself in the story.
This bugbear aside, ‘Rose’ will give you an excellent performance, an intelligent and nuanced text and a lot to think about. As Rose herself mischievously points out to us in the play, the ritual of shiva is a therapeutic chance for the participants to sit a lot, talk a lot and get a sore behind, reminding them that Jewish people have a history of both pain and complaining. ‘Rose’ is meta-exploration of sitting shiva, played to an audience who are also sitting on (more comfortable) wooden seats listening. No complaints from the peanut gallery here.
Taylored to Perfection: a Storytelling Treat
13 Mar 2011 3 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: Jeremy Taylor, The Kalk Bay Theatre
Jeremy Taylor – South African singer/songwriter extraordinaire – was playing at the Kalk Bay Theatre. The audience on the night I went ranged in age from early twenty-somethings (no, not me) to late sixties retireees. Some knew of Jeremy Taylor’s music from their own childhoods, some came on the back of the ubiquitous “Ag Pleez Deddy”, a couple had never heard of him at all. We all went down the stairs and filed into the theatre wondering the same thing: could a man in his 70′s really entertain a different era of audience?
And then something magical happened.
A gentle story teller, his segues between songs so natural, his rapport instant, came onto the stage and charmed us all. His voice wasn’t strong. He occasionally faltered on the lyrics and flow. But he had the audience absolutely in the palm of his hand.
Taylor charmed a heady roomful of nostalgia for a white SA childhood out of us all. A morally complex nostalgia, mind you, one very aware of its context, its historical position, its delicate power balance. Even those like myself who – through accidents of background and age – couldn’t relate to the era, the experience, the childhood he spoke of, were caught in the living history, the delicate sense of storytelling that has its roots in something at once fleeting and very firmly entrenched in our psyches.
The songs ranged from light and funny to deeply disturbing and political, spot-on impersonations of people and personality types who have – directly or collectively – changed our history as South Africans. I found the stories that linked them even more fascinating – these were obviously carefully thought-out and crafted for their links between material, but each was a fascinating insight into people and culture; one man’s experience of a country, caught between critical awareness and indulgent fondness. It’s living history, packaged in a wonderfully accessible and gentle cultural form of guitar songs. It surprised me just how much I enjoyed it. From shop lady to Apartheid agent, the white colonial hangover to the child’s voice of simple glee, each persona said something far more than what was contained in the (very clever) lyrics. Jeremy Taylor presents us a slice of South Effrican life old and new, spiced with everyday culture, with its bittersweet taste of a time when things were very different.
Everything about the set – the hall table, the carpet, the simple no-frills lighting – was designed to make you feel you were listening to an impromptu performance at home. This made it an ideal show for the intimate, three-sided Kalk Bay Theatre, of course – a space so cosily inviting that I always feel like I am stepping into someone’s very charming home theatre when I visit.
Jeremy Taylor is both a very intelligent and very talented man. You could choose to see the show for either reason without being disappointed. Getting two for the price of one is a pleasure that you shouldn’t miss.
Stand Up to Sit and Enjoy
12 Feb 2011 1 Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Rob van Vuuren, The Kalk Bay Theatre
Know two things, folks. Rob van Vuuren’s a dad. He’s also pretty damn funny.
Rob van Vuuren is doing stand up comedy on Sundays this month at the Kalk Bay Theatre. Now, I’m not always a fan of stand up – too often I sit in the audience wondering why everyone finds the material hilarious except me.
This wasn’t one of those times.
The night I went, he delivered a set that was a whacky mix of observation and anecdote, experience and complete crazy invention. It was pretty damn funny. I think it’s testament to his charismatic delivery and rapport with the audience that, even when I didn’t 100% click with the material, I thoroughly enjoyed the telling. That’s pretty cool.
Mostly, though, I really DID like his material. I loved hearing a SA stand up comic with more to say than seeking the usual easy laughs out of race stereotypes, gender stereotypes, culture stereotypes (although there’s that too). I really loved hearing him talk about his more personal experiences – some of them very personal indeed – around the adoption of his daughter. It’s pretty cool – an rare – when someone makes themselves vulnerable and it doesn’t involve angst or awkwardness.
It helped that he set up a relaxed, intimate and experimental vibe from the outset. This was never meant to be a slick stage show, a smooth set rattled off ad hoc. This is unashamedly a work in progress – a rough draft of experimental material before the the show takes its final form. Stand up is one of the few genres where you can get away with that and, in fact, play off the chaos and silliness that results (lucky comedians). I got the sense that Rob was stringing together stories as they came to him, there was no real shape to the show. Again, this didn’t bother me in the slightest, in fact, it was rather fun to be taken along for the crazy ride through the leaps of Rob’s imagination. Less slick stand up, it was more like listening to a kak-funny friend at a family braai. This combination of relaxed atmosphere and familiar sharing has its risks, though – the night I went, an audience member broke Rob’s flow to tell one of his own anecdotes. It was, perhaps a testament to the chord his more personal material struck with the audience and, fortunately, it was absorbed, the energy recovered and we – like Rob – took it in our stride.
Although this isn’t the final form this material will take, don’t be put off. The fun really is in the journey, not the destination (though I’m quite sure the end result will be something I’ll want to see again).
So hey, Rob van Vuuren’s a dad and you should go and hear him talk kak at the Kalk Bay Theatre.
Brilliant Brel…Who?
29 Nov 2010 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Godfrey Johnson, Jon Keevy, Sanjin Muftic, The Kalk Bay Theatre
Godfrey Johnson has a loyal Cape Town following – and rightly so. Similarly, the songs of Jacques Brel need no introduction…unless, apparently, you’re me. I have check and confirmed that I am, quite possibly, the only person in Cape Town to whom the work of Brel is virtually unknown (do covers count? No?)
It didn’t stop me. After all, Jacques seems a racy sort of fellow with a reputation. He certainly gets around (If you haven’t been Kissed by Brel in the company of Godfrey and Claire Watling, then you might have been Touched by Brel).
Anyway, I thought I’d better find out what the fuss was about. Deeply shamed and deeply curious, I made my way to the Kalk Bay Theatre. Would I – after an hour of unknown songs – be ready to gnaw my own arm off? Would Parisian amour quickly pale in the face of Cape covers?
Nope.
The songs mesmerised me – sweet but never sentimental, dark but rarely beyond some form of redemption; deliciously twisted little tales of love, crime and obsession. I particularly enjoyed – of perhaps ‘enjoy’ isn’t quite the right word – Johnson’s rendition of ‘Next’, but you’re going to have to see that one for yourselves.
Muftic and Johnson have worked together well to avoid any sentimental simplicity or one-dimensionalrendering: the songs deserve the dark and disturbing undertones to be given their place alongside the simple joy of some of the selection. Johnson is such a talented performer that he is able to give any song a unexpected reworking and, whilst I had no knowledge of the originals to compare his work to, his seemingly effortless performance kept me spellbound. Certainly, I have no idea how he manages to keep eye contact with the audience, his body at a 45 degree twist to the piano, whilst playing such intricate songs…and remembering his words. In a production as stripped down as this, there’s always a fine line: go too far in one direction, you distract from the essence of the music; too far in the other and all but the most avid Brel fan begins to nod off. The Shadow of Brel kept the classic simplicity of one man and a piano approach, but held my attention in subtle ways. Key among these was some really great lighting by Jon Keevy. The amount of mood that man can wring from half a dozen par cans is ridiculous. Lighting is always important, but especially so in a production that is so dependant on the aural, with very little visual relief. Although always subtle, the lighting was so central to the feel of the songs it might almost have been considered another performer.
I was a big fan of Sanjin Muftic’s decision to include a ‘pay request’ section after the Brel – and after a well-timed bar and bathroom break. With a selection of quirk and classics, each ranging from an inexpensive R5 to R20 (and all profits going to Pieter Dirk Uys’ Darling Trust), this added a new twist of fun to end the evening on.
Purists beware: this is a selection from the English translation of Brel’s works. Whilst I was devoutly thankful for that, some (ok, possibly only my French colleague) may feel differently.
I thought the programme might still need some work to make the first half tighter and the request section smoother, but, then, I saw the production at the beginning and this might already have been worked on during the course of the run.
So, Brel has a new convert, and Godfrey a continued fan. I reckon if this show plays again soon, you shouldn’t miss a chance to spend an evening in its company.
Enchanting Claudia’s Back in Town!
20 Oct 2010 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Artscape, Lara Bye, The Kalk Bay Theatre
I’d waited to see “I, Claudia” for a long time. I’ve had lots of opportunities – it’s been playing to rave reviews for some time. I finally caught the show in a tiny, three -performance run at the Artscape a few months ago. Worth the wait? You bet. Since then, it’s played to packed houses in Botswana and now returns to the Cape, playing at the delightful Kalk Bay theatre till November 13th.
The story comes across by turns as a voyeuristic romp and an engaging confessional overshare as Danford explores the lives of several individuals brought together by the main character, Claudia – a precocious young girl coming to terms with her self, her family and her life. It is, like all the best stories, bittersweet – two parts hilarity for every one part heartbreak.
Susan Danford uses movement, costume and cleverly designed half face masks to slip effortlessly between characters as diverse as a vamp, a 12 year old girl, a grandpa and an Eastern European janitor. How does she manage such a range? Here’s a secret: it’s not about the props. Although the clothing changes and masks help the audience face each character with a blank slate, the real magic’s all Danford’s. Her genius for gesture, her understanding of breath and timing, all work towards drawing forth these full-realised, utterly engaging characters, even the less sympathetic of which still manage to charm the audience.
Speaking of which, Danford handled her audience with the skill of a seasoned performer. The show was full of meaningful personal interactions – including welcoming latecomers – without ever crossing the line into exposing or discomforting her audience.
It’s easy to break the performance spell with the change-overs between characters, but some subtle lighting by Matty Lewis (of the Pink Couch fame), carefully-chosen musical interludes and a little slow-motion movement from Danford smoothed things over, making even the transitions bvisually interesting and engaging. All this speaks, of course, to the sensitive direction of Lara Bye, whose skill in bringing out the best in diverse character-driven performances has been seen in the same venue with ‘London Road’. Danford and Bye have obviously worked with love and patience to find these particular characters – each is lovingly detailed, whether it be a quirky habit, a turn of phrase or a particular mannerism.
This is a show I’m definitely going to see again. If you haven’t caught Claudia yet, you’ve got three weeks. Leave the homework, blow off the housework and make a seaside date with Claudia. You’ll be in for a very grown up evening’s entertainment from this little lady.
Back-to-Back Brilliance at the Bay
29 Aug 2010 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: James Cairns, The Kalk Bay Theatre
James Cairns has done it again.
On the back of The Sitting Man – a theatrical treat that you can read about here - he’s presented another one man, multiple character show that will knock your socks off.
Dirt is penned by Nick Warren and directed by Jenine Collocott (as opposed to The Sitting Man, which Cairns both wrote and directed himself – phew!). Sure, the two plays have a lot in common. Performance style (one man character show where each individual vignette or episode is puncuated by recurrant performantive motifs) and plot (SA road trip where one event brings together a collection of characters) are stikingly similar. The main thing the pieces have in common, though – and the only thing, therefore, that really matters – is brilliance. This man is to theatregoers what catnip is to cats – you just can’t get enough.
Dirt takes on the tale of 3 men, brought together by the death of a mutual friend, who take a road trip from Joburg to Cape Town for the funeral. Simple, yes? Don’t be fooled. This plot has more turns than De Waal Drive.
Grant is an agitated first-time dad who’s dealing with the death of his friend as well as his sex life, Sam is an egomaniac soapie star with a serious C-list celebrity complex, Wayne is the eager-to-please nerd with a misguided sense of emotional boundaries and Tom is, well, a dog. Put them together in a car and you’d better fasten your seatbelts – this ride’s not going to be smooth.
Much of my praise for Cairns’ dextrous manouvering between superbly realised and utterly recognisable characters could come straight from my review of The Sitting Man. The man slips into character like a new set of clothes – his changes are always fluid, relaxed and utterly spot-on from the start. The Kalk Bay Theatre really lends itself to these sort of contained performances and, in keeping with the suggestive, minimalist set, really clever use is made of a ladder and token symbolic items to punctuate the vignettes.
I love how Cairns conjures up such textured, familiar South African scenes and characters. I love how simply he does it – relying on accent and movement over elaborate costumes and props. Most of all, I love how you can take a twenty minute drive and see such quality performances in quirky shows in an old converted church on the edge of the ocean.
The Sitting Man and Dirt have had me – and everyone else I’ve spoken to about them – wondering why I haven’t seen more of James Cairns before. It’s official: anything this man is in, I’m going to see. You should too.
