Eddie Perfect and Paul Capsis

Melbourne’s Malthouse Theatre, in association with the Victorian Opera, are currently performing Bertolt Brecht’s The Threepenny Opera until June 17.

Freely adapted from John Gay’s The Beggar’s Opera, it was two centuries before the libretto was translated from its original English into German by Brecht’s mistress Elisabeth Hauptmann, in 1927.

Collaborating with opera composer Kurt Weill, Brecht’s The Threepenny Opera debuted in 1928 at the Theater am Schiffbauerdamm, soon to become the home of his famous theatre company, The Berliner Ensemble. After a troubled rehearsal period filled with conflict, fleeing actresses and rushed re-writes, the work arguably introduced a new theatre form.

Malthouse Theatre’s The Threepenny Opera became a sellout season before opening night, largely based on the drawing power of its two stars, Eddie Perfect and Paul Capsis. Part play, part cabaret, part opera, part play with music, The Threepenny Opera is a mishmash of splendour and inconsistency.

Episodic in form, Threepenny consists of dozens of small, self-contained scenes that generally keep the pace rolling and audience entertained. But while the plot construction is far from perfect, make no doubt about it, Eddie Perfect definitely is. As the protagonist and uber-criminal, Macheath, Perfect’s strong and versatile voice is well-suited to Brecht’s style of song. Perfect dazzles the audience with his declamatory, larger than life  manner, reminiscent for Australian audiences of the recent television series Underbelly, which glamourises the criminal in society. Capsis is also fabulous as Jenny the prostitute.

Set in a boxing ring, several portable stages rotate to form many locations, ranging from a wedding in a horse stable to a prison and even a strippers’ den. The sordid lowlife of the underworld is all too apparent and the costumes and character make-up are suitably garish and over the top, matching the caricatured personas of those beneath them.

Malthouse Theatre’s production plays homage to Brecht’s Epic Theatre style with placards introducing songs, direct character address to the audience, stage hands in open view, narration, and songs conveying the work’s themes and messages.

But there are also problems. Raimondo Cortese’s adaptation includes many references to Melbourne suburbs and place names. Those in the audience who live in these suburbs briefly giggle at the reference and in this sense, the work has some immediacy and relevance. But in truth, it only cheapens the text and reduces it to farce. If you’re going to talk about a whorehouse in North Bulleen, you better make sure you take out the dozen references in the plot to the upcoming coronation parade the next morning, because there ain’t no King and Queen living in 21st century Melbourne.

The cast also consists of a mixture of classically trained operatic voices, cabaret voices and lesser trained voices. While there were impressive moments where the whole company sung together, the bulk of the singing in this show is solos and duets. Threepenny Opera or not, the operatic voices in this production clashed with voices like those of Perfect and merely added to the work’s inconsistencies. Another issue saw some scenes that were fast and furious, while others were a little slow and tedious. Effective contrast or unevenness?

The Threepenny Opera is no Mother Courage, that’s for sure. Brecht had only begun embracing Marxism in 1926, so Threepenny does not contain his usual potent dose of didacticism. Hurried to the stage or not, it became Brecht’s biggest commercial success. It will likely become Malthouse Theatre’s commercial success of 2010, as well.

Let’s face it, Brecht is idolised by many and loathed by others. His works are so ‘in your face’ and often intellectual, it’s hard to sit back, relax and enjoy. While Brecht’s works are not everyone’s cup of tea, Malthouse Theatre has nevertheless produced an entertaining production of The Threepenny Opera. If you come to the theatre for Eddie Perfect’s performance alone, you will not regret it.

This production marks the final work of Malthouse Theatre’s artistic director Michael Kantor.

Waiting For Gandalf

I’ve been trying to write this review for ten days now. When your blog is a hobby and Godot’s opening night comes to town in the middle of a school show, I remembered this blog’s title … and so The Drama Teacher put Godot aside until the storm at work settled down.

Something irks me when the purest of non-commercial theatre, Samuel Beckett’s 1953 masterpiece Waiting For Godot, creates box office records in London and goes on an international tour with Gandalf from The Lord of the Rings at its heart. “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark” cried Hamlet’s Marcellus. This performance has it all … the good, the bad and the ugly.

The Good The cast is strong. Many ‘in the know” are disappointed the Australian and New Zealand tour of the Theatre Royal Haymarket production of Godot does not include original London cast members Simon Callow and Patrick Stewart. Nevertheless, this ensemble retains its draw card in Sir Ian McKellan as Estragon, then adds Roger Rees as Vladimir, Matthew Kelly as Pozzo and Brendan O’Hea as Lucky. The actors are uniformly consistent and very skilled. If you’re going along just to see McKellan shine, then be warned there is no star in Beckett’s Godot, nor should there be. Vladimir and Estragon equally share the stage as the play’s twin protagonists and if you want me to nit-pick, I preferred the talent of Roger Rees over Ian McKellan, anyway. For me, McKellan mumbled way too often, was difficult to both hear and understand at times, while Rees’ interpretation of Vladimir was easier to engage. Kelly’s camp, over the top portrayal of Pozzo was a comic delight.

The Bad We’ll start with the post-apocalyptic-type set, complete with crumbled wall at the rear and ruined mansion pillars downstage left and right. As with Shakespeare’s plays, Waiting For Godot demands a bare stage (in this case with the sole addition of a single tree) and any interpretation that attempts to tart it up, usually fails. It was quite acceptable on one level, but the question remains as to whether it was suitable? Adding to the “bad” was the soundscape by Paul Grothuis. Satisfactory? Yes. Necessary? No. We’ll finish with the overstated direction by Sean Mathias that resulted in several audience gags and a comic theatricality with Vladimir and Estragon that made me shudder (appropriate only for Pozzo). There is indeed a comic side to Godot clear in the text for any good director to interpret, but this was Godot for the masses. If you’re a purest, try The Gate Theatre of Dublin’s interpretation, performed at the Melbourne International Festival of the Arts in October 1997. Often hailed by critics as “the definitive Godot” (if there is such as thing), you can now see this performance on DVD in the Beckett box set.

The Ugly Anything that commercialises Beckett’s Waiting For Godot falls into the “ugly” category. The $130 ticket price tag. The $40 signed lithographs of the actors. The $20 programme. Where was my Godot coffee mug, I cry? Damn, I’ve got a whole cabinet of Broadway musical mugs at home! Whoops! My slip. That’s right. This was not Broadway … or was it? We all get sucked in and yes, I bought my programme and signed lithograph of Ian McKellan. True, McKellan was known as one of Britain’s leading stage actors for decades before The Lord of the Rings trilogy opened him up to a whole new generation of audiences. It’s not his fault that much of the opening night audience were really Waiting for Gandalf, not Godot at all. But as skilled as McKellan truly is at treading the boards, one has to worry about what this production of Waiting For Godot was really about … the money or the art?

Melbourne season concludes 23 May 2010.