Chicago, Auckland Music theatre 2013, Scube's perspective

We booked a group of over 30 people to see Chicago by ATC on the strength of "Lucy Lawless is in it" and "Michael Hurst is directing", and to be honest I didnt worry too much beyond that.
It’s not often you go to an Auckland show and see a Shortland street actorSHHHH LET ME FINISH! See a Shortland Street actor AND take half the show to recognise who they are. Amanda Billings played the role of Roxy Hart, and was unrecognisable as her Sarah Potts. She blew my mind within her first number, with the assistance of the talented and physically phenomenal Mike Edward. As well as executing her part in the opening song fabulously, she and mike progressively stripped down to their underwear, and gave us a mesmerising perspective of Roxy’s affair and murder through a stunningly choreographed acrobatic dance sequence. I was left wishing she could kill mike again so I could see more, and lo and behold the rest of the cast was happy to fulfil my wish.
The cell block tango had been transformed from the Fosse choreography I am so fond of to something that had me clutching the railing and wishing it would never finish. Each of the girls stepped up and took the stage, building upon the work of the previous actor and repeatedly “killed” Mike in a myriad of acrobatic ways. The scene left him stripped to his underpants and swinging unconscious by his feet above the stage. A veritable human piñata. And  would you believe all this was unbelievably witty?

I had been warned it wasn’t the Chicago I was familiar with but at this point I sat up and took notice.

There were several levels of bravery to this production. It’s a fosse musical, and to be honest I wasn’t 100% enthused about the concept of a fosse without any bloody fosse, but I was willing to be convinced, and boy am I glad I risked it. They stripped back the choreography, the costumes, the set and the usual devices.

It turns out that once you have done that, what is left is a script and score ACHING to be used in a more subversive way, in a more intimate setting, and choreography that asks more of the performers as individuals. It was the difference between Hugh Grant and Alan Rickman reading a book on tape.  You *think* Hugh Grant is as good as it gets, but when you hear Alan Rickman, you realise there is a lot more out there than just shiny and entertaining.

In all seriousness, it’s Lucy Lawless, the blow up dolls, sexy costuming and smut that is making the media, but this show was sexy in so many less tangible ways. Mostly talent. Talent is incredibly arousing, and from the lighting in the ceiling to the painted stage, and all the skills used in-between, this show was pure talent. It wasn’t the hilarious blow up dolls or nipple covers that were titillating. It was the raw energy and power of the acrobatics, the dance, and the obvious love of music. I think the bit that made MY knees go weak was watching the audience respond to the almost constant eye contact, interaction and brilliant off side action from the ensemble. If anyone in that audience missed out on a smile, a filthy wink, a nod, a side eye, a prop, or just feeling like they were immersed, I will be very surprised. The cast were practically in the front row’s lap, and I suspect from about 15 minutes in the audiance members would have happily let them sit there.

Congratulations to the team and especially to Michael Hurst for his direction, Shona McCullagh for choreography that made strangers gasp in unison, John Gibson and the band for the music  that made me want to give the origional score a second chance at love, and those brave enough to let these decisions happen in an arts community as small as Auckland. I assume the sold out shows and extended season reflect that this show has been a financial success, and I hope it inspires more people to walk to the edge of comfortable and look beyond the usual.

Ghosts in the theatre.

Urgh.
My brain is fried. I'm exhausted all day then get a second wind around 10pm which means I don't sleep til 2am.
My shirt may well be on inside out. I smell of sugar free V, grease paint, sweat and dusty costumes and the bags under my eyes are pudgier than my eyelids.
I'm forgetting words. I haven't seen my Mum in a fortnight or called my Nan in a month.

It must be the end of show season.

I had planned to elaborate further but I cant be arsed.
IOU one decent post about this show once it is over.

Oh, one funny thing from backstage. The performers have gotten all overexcited, and every time something goes missing (and yes, that's common in the backstage shambles) they blame it on a theatre ghost.
Seeing as the last three things have been ladies undergarments (either costume or personal) I was starting to wonder if thief ghost had been a dirty old man in the past.

Their theory is that it is Freda Stark.
Are you kidding me?
For a start she died old and happy fairly in 1999.
For a second point she danced NAKED...
Why in FSM's name would she want a bra??

Turns out they didn't know who Freda was but knew she was a famous dancer in the Civic in the 30's.
They were stunned to find out that she was in the catagory of exotic and was also gay to top it off.

And they thought I was mean because I laughed at them.
I wouldn't laugh if the weren't so Stupid!!!!

Ok that was mean. Sorry.

Part one in my series on Community theatre - THE TEAM

THE THEATRE TEAM.

There are Five distinct groups of people backstage.

The Performers:
These can be identified by several distinct markings.
They are light of frame, nocturnal of nature, strong in grandiose gestures, and like most in the animal kingdom, the male is gaudier in decoration. They are the focal point of each theatre, yet most are unaware of how their surrounds actually work.
They form strong attachments on immediate contact yet will forget people’s names within 5 minutes of leaving them. Consistency is important in their support crew as they are prone to panic and flap at the slightest changes.

There are four categories; Singer –dancers, singer-actors, actor dancers, and actors with no other talent. The latter is the most rare as their careers are often culled in infancy.

The Directors/choreographers / production team:
Like most predators these species are designed for stealth, they speak in hushed voices in the corridors, using cunning to catch their prey and ensnare them in the production. They use the power of words and reputation to lure a team of unsuspecting artists into their trap. The stalk the wings, glaring at any who dare slight the production or hinder its course. It is not until a team is in the trap that they raise their voices and begin to take charge.

The Technical team:
The grubby underbelly of the theatre. They wear all black and fight to camouflage with the surrounds.
They are the working class of the theatre, arriving hours before the show, and the last to lock up.
If you want to know where something is, how something works, or when things are happening, find someone in full blacks.
If you need something – anything; they can find it, make it, or steal it for you.
If they feel like it.

“The artists” Hair and makeup:
Often flamboyant and even more often out of their depth; these staff are often brought in from other areas such as film and television, or hair and makeup study centres.
Like beautiful trained pets; they are willing to please and keen to try anything, they are the talent of the tech team, but need reassurance and clear communication to avoid startling them.
Their plumage tends to be outlandish and fantastic, and they constantly smoke.

The groupies:
These people tend to be previous members of the performer community but are no longer performing.
Unwilling to wear black or get dirty, and unskilled in direction or art forms they generally hang around with a clip board fulfilling the “bad-guy” side of the “good-guy-bad-guy” team of the key members (director, producer etc).
Not particularly useful, they do strike fear into the hearts of all, and are good for ensuring fees are paid, the dishes are done, and the cupboards are stocked.

As with any species there is overlap. Isn’t a Mule a combination of a donkey and a horse?

The Mules:
In small towns or community theatres, many of the team are mules and will combine aspects of different team members.
They are generally as stubborn and loud as their name sakes.
An example would be I, a mule with a background of performing, lighting, sound, props, painting, backstage crew and makeup experience.
I wear black, know where everything is, boss people around, are generally smug about my knowledge, can convert to bright clothes and grandiose gestures at the end of the season, or in mating season. I always have a torch, safety pins, hat pins, sticking plaster and duct tape on my belt and can be called on to belt a tune in the Pitt if needed.

I take great delight in winding up and loving every member in the above team and am grateful to call them my Stage family.
Thanks gang.
And Break A Leg!
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