ROLLING THUNDER VIETNAM
ROLLING THUNDER VIETNAM, Blake Entertainment in association with QPAC at the State Theatre Sydney, now touring. Photography by Dylan Lewis.
This is such an obvious and excellent idea there are only two questions to be asked: how come no one thought of doing it before? And: has the idea been fully realised. The answers are: who knows? And: yes, it has. In essence Rolling Thunder Vietnam is a theatrical-concert account of Australia’s participation in that hideous, immoral, stupid war set to the popular music of its time.
Complementing the music is a spare and effective book by Bryce Hallett fashioned from much listening and questioning of real-life Vietnam vets. From them he’s devised a quartet of archetypal characters whose life stories and anecdotes are the framework. Performed and sung by Tom Oliver, Kimberly Hodgson, Wes Carr, Matthew Pearce, Vanessa Krummenacher and Will Ewing, they are painfully young men (and two young women) who lived and died and or were changed forever more by the actual lottery that took them to war and the lottery of fate - that decided what would or would not happen to each of them…
The music includes such monster hits as Steppenwolf’s Magic Carpet Ride and Born to be Wild; The Letter (Joe Cocker) Black Magic Woman (Alan Green) Most People I Know Think That I’m Crazy (Billy Thorpe), Run Trough the Jungle (Creedence Clearwater Revival) and We’ve Gotta Get Out of This Place (The Animals). These are sung with a muscular and authentic vigour generated by The Band of Stuart Fraser - guitar, Angus Burchall - drums, Brett Garsed - guitar, Craig Newman - bass; all led from keyboards by musical director Chong Lim (sound design Michael Waters). They are a thrilling outfit and these songs underline the bleak yet perversely stirring atmosphere of what’s come down to us as the first ever televised, soundtracked war.
The stench - of testosterone and youthful fear - seemed to swirl out across the capacity crowd at Sydney’s State Theatre as the band and performers were silhouetted against four tall screens at the back of the stage. On these were projected kaleidoscopic images and ideas both famous and infamous. It was easy to think of that other great yet terrible scent of Vietnam made unforgettable by Robert Duvall in Apocalypse Now with Kilgore’s blissed-out declaration, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning…the smell, you know that gasoline smell…the whole hill…smelled like victory…some day this war’s gonna end…”
Hindsight and irony overflow in Rolling Thunder Vietnam, especially when the furiously angry Edwin Starr classic War (what is it good for? Absolutely nuthin!) roils around the theatre like a half-remembered storm. Couple that with Marvin Gaye’s sweet yet powerful What’s Going On (“Mother mother - there’s too many of you crying. Brother, brother, brother - There’s far too many of you dying. You know we’ve got to find a way. To bring some lovin’ here today…”)
In a week when the current prime minister - yet another moral pygmy - has committed Australia to military action in support of the USA, it’s not simply the sickening ancient history of Harold Holt and “All the way with LBJ” that hits home. The late great Marvin Gaye’s second verse says it all: “Father, father - We don’t need to escalate. You see, war is not the answer. For only love can conquer hate. You know we’ve got to find a way. To bring some lovin’ here today…”
As well as loving there also has to be education and the real action has to be against poverty - meanwhile, love and reconciliation was in the air in Rolling Thunder Vietnam and the power of it was tangible. David Berthold deftly directed the young performers and the non-stop, ever-moving, ever-changing action rarely faltered.
The only real flaw in a night of electrifying entertainment was some of the least likely costumes ever gathered together (design Adam Gardnir). The two girls appeared to have found their mothers’ frocks from the ’50s, although one also wore a pair of 2014 ankle boots; and the boys were also jarringly dressed in semi-military-but-not-quite (skinny jeans?) and semi-’80s-’90s-but-not-quite outfits that were neither of the period nor anything much else. An odd bum note in an otherwise tremendously well realised and compelling show.
Disclosure: Bryce Hallett is one of my dearest friends and not only should you not hold it against him but also this doesn’t make him any the less talented.
