AUSTRALIA DAY
AUSTRALIA DAY, Sydney Theatre Company-Melbourne Theatre Company-Allens in the Drama Theatre, Sydney Opera House, September 12-October 27, 2012. Photos by Jeff Busby: l-r Kaeng Chan, Valerie Bader, Geoff Morrell, Alison Whyte, Peter Kowitz and David James.
The zeitgeist being what it is ("the defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history") it's not really surprising that, for the first time in god knows how long, comedies are the most successful shows in town. Not just any comedies, but that rarest of treasures, new Australian comedies. There's The Lunch Hour at Darlinghurst which is pleasing its fans; at Bondi, the brilliant I Want To Sleep With Tom Stoppard closes its first outing for Tamarama Rock Surfers this weekend; and for the venerable state companies STC and MTC - Jonathan Biggins delivers one of the most accomplished straight up, dinky-di, traditional rib-ticklers one could imagine. It says quite a lot about how glum Australians have been feeling of late. Get a grip, Straya - for gorsakes laugh!
Australia Day is Biggins's first full length play for adults, and the laughs come fast and falling over one another. He is hitherto best known as the enthusiastically absurd clown of great productions such as the STC's Travesties (2009) and 2007's Ying Tong (both directed by Richard Cottrell). And, for more than a decade, he's been one of the masterminds of the Wharf Revues. With this new play, his experience as performer-writer makes for delicious roles for other actors - among the elite of the comedy business.
Australia Day is about that one day in January when the heat shimmers, the flies buzz and everyone gets out and argues the toss about what it all means. Invasion, sausages, pride, prawns, shame, nationalism, xenophobia, Lamingtons, multiculturalism, hopes, dreams, budgie smugglers – they're all in there with the Pashy Pav and the beer and the Chardy. No wonder so many people end up yelling at the toot by sundown.
And so it is in Coriole, a fictional but instantly recognisable town of 11,000 somewhere on the coast. After-hours in the brand new Building the Education Revolution – and therefore not quite functioning yet – school canteen, the Australia Day committee members are meeting. It's mid-winter and the rate of progress you can expect from such a group means they will need all of the six months leading up to the big day to get it together. Each character is introduced in immediate and vivid colour.
There's faithful friend, deputy mayor and general nice guy Robert - not Bob - (David James). His ma-ate is the ambitious mayor and would-be Liberal candidate for parliament, hardware store proprietor Brian (Geoff Morrell). Both James and Morrell are adept at these archetypes - one all cuddly and rounded, the other sharply angular and up to no good; they're skilled comic actors and perfect casting.
Also perfect in her role is the wondrous Valerie Bader as Marie, the doyenne of the CWA. This daffy matron trundles in, puffing and grumbling about the traffic. It's caused - she is convinced - by the town's new roundabout. It's at once funny and pinpoint accurate in skewering the concerns, imaginary or not, of tiny town life. You can picture her waiting at the roundabout for another car to come along so she can give way to it as required. Marie is soon followed by the bluster and bigotry of local builder Wally (Peter Kowitz). Although it's July and freezing Wally is in shorts - his constantly-stoked prejudice and general loathing of everything and everyone keep him warm enough to spontaneously combust at any provocation.
So, when the new young school liaison officer fronts up next, Wally is visibly close to apoplexy. Although named Chester, the new bloke is … well … a slope. There are a lot of acid-dipped one-liners around the older folk's inability to work out whether he's Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese or - good grief - Australian. Actually an ebullient Australian-born Vietnamese from Lakemba, Chester (Kaeng Chan) is one of the faces of the new Coriole. The final arrival - and also a representative of the new order - is Melbourne blow-in (only two years in town) and passionate Greens councillor Helen (Alison Whyte).
This unholy mix of humanity is slightly less stable than nitro-glycerine and director Richard Cottrell handles it with the surest pair of hands you could ask for in comedy today. That's the thrilling thing about Australia Day: truly funny, interesting, story-filled comedy is the exception in contemporary Australian theatre - because it is the most difficult to write, direct and perform. The technical skills and control by all parties to the enterprise are hard to come by and almost never in the same place at the same time. By comparison, drama is a walk in the park.
This is undoubtedly why audiences fall on such a treat like thirst-crazed wanderers - most of us crave laughter, especially our own, and there's not much to be had. While setting up and exploring the characters and their various quirks, foibles and fancies, the play sharply tickles most of the topics that most of us can recognise and groan at, as well as ruefully chortle over. Biggins apparently got the idea after being an Australia Day ambassador - these visiting aliens are sent to small communities to share the love and the sunburnt noses - and he also came home with a memory chock-full of rich goodies.
After the interval, the six months of planning come to unseen, off-stage fruition as it's transformed into the committee's management marquee and, gradually, all hell breaks loose beyond its flaps. As well as every conceivable disaster and unexpected hiccup, the relationships between the committee members also take various twists and turns. The pace slows towards the end of the first half to explore some unexpected and fruitful antagonisms and these share the focus of the second half with the public catastrophes, particularly an approaching storm. Australia Day isn't perfect - there are about ten minutes' worth of longueurs in the "serious" detour, but the Friday night full house remained rapt throughout and happily went all the way with the cast.
It's not often actors have to wait for raucous laughter to subside before continuing yet this happens often in Australia Day. They are helped in their efforts by a clever set that evokes the utilitarian necessities of primary school building (design Richard Roberts, lighting Niklas Pajanti) as well as conjuring small town life through a witty soundscape of fluting Maggies, school bands and choir and so on (David Franzke). Between them all, the cast and creatives have cooked up a very funny, occasionally jolting and always entertaining production. The jokes range from hoary to sublime; broad to satirical and the overall result is a group of people that is more realistic than many would like to admit. It's a considerable achievement - thoroughly recommended for all those to whom the zeitgeist has lately been whispering "Fun, I want fun!"
