FOX EXCELS WITH FATAL FLAWS |
 |
) Written by Robert Hewett Director: Colin McColl Starring: Kerry Fox at Downstage Theatre, Wellington From 21 Sep 2006 to 7 Oct 2006 Reviewed by John Smythe, 23 Sep 2006 |
There is a special pleasure in welcoming Kerry Fox back home to the Wellington stage, via this Auckland Theatre Company production, directed by Colin McColl.
A graduate of the NZ Drama School, Fox's international success on stage and screen, from the springboard of An Angel At My Table (1990, in which she scored the lead role of Janet Frame), is well deserved. The emotional intelligence and craft quality she brings to her often risk-taking work is enhanced by her avoidance of the vanities all too common among top actresses.
The Blonde the Brunette and the Vengeful Redhead by Australian playwright Robert Hewett (whose Gulls was done at Downstage in 1988) has been relocated in New Zealand, accent-wise. Aware that Auckland critics seemed to concur - "great performance(s), shame about the play" - I come to the opening of this Downstage season primed to prove the truism that while you may do a bad performance in a good play, it's just not possible to do a good performance in a bad play. Is it?
By interval I think I'm right. Kerry Fox has given us a quartet of very different characters, each with their own unique perspective on the central event of the play: the sudden and fatal shopping mall assault on a blonde woman by a redhead. And as the story reveals itself, we are increasingly engaged in silent dialogue with each new character because - by the third and fourth monologues anyway - we know more than they do.
This is subtly crafted writing. While intriguing us with insights into the flaws and foibles of each character, it stimulates our desire to enquire beyond their subjective viewpoints in quest of a more objective truth.
In set-designer Kate Hawley's opaque evocation of a shopping mall - which will also suggest a doctor's room, lingerie boutique, child's home, McCafé, jewellery store, neighbour's home and a women's prison - discreetly lit by Phillip Dexter, Fox inhabits each of her first four roles with confident conviction, inviting us into their worlds in ways that are intrinsically engaging.
Rhonda Russell, who will prove to be the naïve and momentarily vengeful redhead, is truly bewildered by her husband Graham's moving out. Given her representation of him as a monosyllabic grunter it's tempting to think she's better off without him, but there is their son Damian to consider, not that he gains much consideration from either parent ...
This early in the piece I'm willing to sit with the questions, trusting that answers will emerge in good time. Exactly where Rhonda is in the timeframe and physical geography of the story while sharing her experience with us is also not immediately clear although the gratingly metallic sound effect - which recurs in John Gibson's distorted and broken-up sound-bite sound-scape - could, I conclude in retrospect, suggest a police lockup or prison remand wing.
English-born Dr Alex Douchette - who turns out to be the partner of a blonde, if not 'the' blonde - is strong, articulate, socially conscientious and, once the background exposition is dealt with, emotionally shattered. Exactly why she feels moved to tell us her life story, as well as recount what was happening when the news came through that her partner had been attacked, remains a mystery. And the fact that her patient at the time just happened to be Graham is a contrived coincidence. But Fox's compelling rendition relegates these concerns to the background, for the moment.
Lynette, Rhonda's very Kiwi next-door-neighbour who runs the lingerie boutique at the mall, transcends stereotype to achieve the status of archetype in both writing and performance. The more she asserts she is not one to poke her nose into other people's business, the more apparent it is that she is protesting too much. This juxtaposition, the strong characterisation and her tottering about in stilettos while dressing plastic torsos in black bras and panties, conspire to infuse the play with fresh energy and life.
Adults playing children can be fraught with difficulty but the denial, diversionary tactics and displacement activities lizard-loving 4 ½ year-old Mattie brings to his dealing with the loss of his mother, as he waits the "funeran" and the "party" they're going to have for her, bring the first half to a poignant conclusion.
At this point I am in two minds about Colin McColl's decision to avoid all theatrical tricks in beginning and ending the first half, and staging the transitions from character to character. Fox's initial entry subverts anticipation and expectation when she strolls on, looks at us, then goes about preparing for her first role, the start of which is signified with a caption on video screens (otherwise used to suggest security surveillance). Between scenes she simply de-roles and goes about dropping no-longer needed items of clothing into plastic rubbish sacks, unpacking new items from shopping bags and redressing herself.
After the Mattie scene, she just strolls off. While the anti-theatricality of all this is intriguing in itself, the audience has received no clear cue that the first half is over, so there is no applause as the houselights finally fade up, very slowly. I'm also thinking these downtimes between scenes would be more justified if there was lots of cerebral and/or intellectual stuff for us to digest before the next round, but it's not as rich and deep as that. The separations, the lack of flow-through or accumulating energy, does reduce the experience for the audience and leave us feeling flat when we want to be excited.
But there is every reason to suppose the second half will resolve the questions with flair and build on the strong foundations ... Alas this is not to be.
The portrayal of Graham as a gormless consumer of fast-food fries with a banal attitude to life, a gross approach to women and no saving graces whatever, does irreparable damage to the credibility of the entire scenario. How could any woman be driven to uncontrollable passion, either murderous or sexual, in response to this lump? The audience has gone very quiet ...
Joan Carlise, the neighbour, a nice if slightly cranky old dear with a loud-barking dog, is well observed, But being more of an observer of, than a participant in, the core events and their aftermath, her story - placed at this point - adds little to the dramatic tension. The information she offers, however, as to how things have progressed half a dozen years on from 'the incident' is made interesting by the consummate Fox.
The blonde to whom all blame has been attributed - for Graham's leaving, Rhonda's lethally impetuous response and all the flow-on effects on innocent parties - is Russian immigrant Tanya Moisevitch, who runs the discount jewellery store at the mall. Again, despite another string characterisation, the further tragi-comedy revelations are hampered by back-story exposition. The discovery that her 'relationship' with Graham was non-existent proves at least one out of three women has taste but the holes in the logic at this point severely subvert its dramatic value.
Specifically, Lynette has claimed it was Tanya who rang the security guards as the vengeful act unfolded but now Tanya claims she only found out Rhonda was a murderer much later. And if Graham had not left Rhonda for her, why did he leave? Shifting perceptions is all very well but it doesn't work to simply replace a misapprehension with nothing.
Rhonda returns, mopping prison floors, with less than two years to go of her sentence (reduced from 12 to 9 years for good behaviour, we assume). And there is a plot twist here that should lift the ending, but somehow it doesn't. I won't go into detail but it's to do with forgiveness and the idea that clarity of vision may best be achieved by those whose brains are uncluttered by extraneous stimuli.
Kerry Fox certainly embodies the idea of a woman transformed from a naiveté born of inexperience to one more worldly wise, despite her enforced absence from the 'real' world. Apart from Graham, her performances have made the show well worth seeing. But I remain bemused as to how this play, which was given intensive development in Sydney and has been in production and on the road for over two years, can still have almost fatal flaws that detract from its many strengths.
I can but concur: great performance(s), mostly, shame about parts of the play.
See also reviews by:
Laurie Atkinson (The Dominion Post);
Lynn Freeman (Capital Times);
Kate Ward-Smythe