KING KONG
KING KONG, Regent Theatre, Melbourne, 15 June 2013. Photos: above Kong and esther Hannaford; right: Queenie van de Zandt.
Reviewed by Bryce Hallett
The culmination of five years' development by Australian producer Global Creatures, King Kong has been keenly anticipated amid tantalising glimpses of the hulking beast as it evolved in the workshop. When the production and its star, the 6m silverback gorilla combining animatronics and puppetry, was finally revealed in all its glory at Saturday's (June 15, 2013) world premiere it brought with it a level of innovation and ambition seldom witnessed on the Australian stage.
There are pools of brilliance in the director Daniel Kramer's feast for the senses. It unites the old and the new; the worlds of vaudeville, classic song and dance, puppetry, circus, animatronics and state-of-the-art screen technology. At times the worlds blur and collide, sometimes they falter and make little sense at all, and when they coalesce the result is magical, adventurous and thrilling. In its best moments, King Kong is luminous, transporting and heartfelt.
Comprising an eclectic mix of existing Broadway and jazz tunes, and original songs from various contemporary artists, including Sarah McLachlan, 3D from Massive Attack and Justice, King Kong is not a musical in the traditional sense. It offers some of the experimentalism of modern opera and in its easy embrace of a wide range of classic and pop musical influences and genres the production is utterly modern, often frenetic and, at this stage of its theatrical life, lacking a unifying vision.
In almost every sense the main attraction is the beautifully-wrought primate, and rightly so. Brought to vivid life by 13 puppeteers - the artistry of puppeteer Peter Wilson comes to the fore - and the ingenuity of animatronics wizard Sonny Tilders, Kong is truly magnificent, not just big, loud and aggressive but agile, anxious, vulnerable and pensive. For this alone the production is an amazing achievement. The classic tale, of course, demands not only a credible and expressive beast but a feisty, tender beauty to enchant and ignite sparks.
It is doubtful that the producers could have discovered anyone more suitable to portray Ann Darrow than the mightily-talented Esther Hannaford (Hairspray). It is a bravura performance and a Herculean feat given that the songs generally fail to propel the story and that much of the book is inconsistent and weak. Hannaford's exceptional voice and acting assurance afford the work vibrancy and warmth, and bring welcome comic touches and vulnerability. Too many of the songs, including the more melodic ballads, are loosely stitched on like factory-made buttons rather than carefully sewn into the fabric to make for something special and lasting.
As Darrow's dashing love interest Jack Driscoll, Chris Ryan (Thyestes) looks the part and is spirited and appealing yet the inadequacy of the role allows him few opportunities to shine. The classic boy-meets-girl encounter, initially all bluster and misadventure, then gradual fondness leading to passionate embrace, follows well-worn convention but the extraordinary production design makes it gently seductive. As Darrow takes her first tentative dance steps with Driscoll on the ship's rolling deck, the scene is shimmering and translucent; the silvery moon and sea evoking their fragility and union with nature.
As the impresario Carl Denham, newcomer Adam Lyon is more amiable and unhinged than a greed-driven opportunist. He sings well enough but his acting lacks the security and resourcefulness needed to lift the dramatic stakes and to make the part memorably monstrous. When Denham's plans to make a quick buck by exhibiting King Kong on Broadway go awry, so too does Lyon's performance. Hopefully he will grow into the part and lose some of the demented diva touches he deploys in the second act.
The fine creative team, including costume designer Roger Kirk, set designer Peter England and lighting designer Peter Mumford, contribute greatly to the spectacle while musical director Daniel Edmonds keeps the pace tight and brisk, no mean feat given the complexity, mish-mash of styles and scale of the piece.
Two of the most enchanting and stirring scenes come when the audience first encounters Kong on Skull Island, a moment of wonder and intrigue, and when the wounded creature is in quiet repose atop the Empire State Building. No matter how well you know the story or how many times you've seen the film, the peculiarly serene image of the maimed and feared "enemy" of the people remains indelible, poignant and moving.
King Kong is by no means perfect but its technical brilliance and stagecraft deserves to be applauded. There has never been anything like it before on the Australian stage. With the benefit of new songs to enrich and propel the drama, and some hefty rewriting of the book, there's little doubt that the show has the potential to conquer Broadway and the West End.
