24 Hour Musical Review 3!

“The 24-Hour Musical” immediately leapt out to me the moment I saw Melbourne University’s MUDFEST program. Aside from my poorly hidden love for musical theatre, it intrigued me as something I know I could never do myself – write, direct and rehearse a musical, all in under 24 hrs.

From the start it promised to be an experience. As the show actively advertised, it was designed so that it could be “anything”, from a train wreck to a masterpiece. The way the cavernous Union Theatre contrasted perfectly with the utilitarian staging and light Jazz of the shows’ four-piece band reinforced this - providing an odd mix of conflicting messages for the shows audience. Nevertheless, this made me only more excited as I settled into my seat, eager to see what the writers had come up with in their tight timeframe.

As it turned out, the musical followed the final year of four high school girls growing up in the late 1960s, each with their own set of problems. Helmet, the musical’s love struck Juliet, dealt with heartbreak after falling pregnant and having an abortion. Meanwhile, two of the other girls explored their sexuality, breaking free of their Christian School’s beliefs and finding love. Lastly, the brightest of the group struggled with being an ambitious black woman, with the aim of being a doctor fixed firmly in her sights.

The performances from all of the actresses were impressive. Not once was I reminded that these were a group of people that haven’t slept in 24hrs, and the show’s show-stopping number “In Twenty Years” showcased the vocal talents of the actresses particularly well. Moreover, given the short rehearsal time, the show seemed unusually smooth, and it’s a credit to the performs that they retained their composure throughout.

Despite that, there were a few distinct areas where you could really see the way time constraints affected the overall show. While the premise was ambitious already, the decision to try to tackle such dense and intricate problems as abortion, civil rights and suicide was a truly astonishing act of bravery. In a structural sense this scattergun approach failed to make the story a really satisfying one, and I found myself wishing that they had just picked one issue and drilled down on it in more depth.

Still, Mudfest isn’t about Shakespeare and substance. It’s instead about giving people the opportunity to try something new and deliver a performance that is unique and enjoyable. The 24-hr musical fulfilled this brief to a tee, and, in my mind, showed exactly the kind of spirit and gumption that makes MUDfest something more than just another play.

The 24- Hour Musical review was by Bill Stephenson for You're Dripping Egg!

24 Hour Musical Review 2

Mudfest 2011 (Two of A Kind): The 24 Hour Musical - review by Matilda Dixon-Smith as seen on You're Dripping Egg.

Disclaimer: My lack of a program (part of Mudfest’s ‘no paper’ policy) might mean I make some small missteps (such as character names, cast/crew identities etc.). My apologies.

When I informed a colleague at work that I would spend my Sunday evening reviewing 24 Hour Musical (a musical written, rehearsed and performed in 24 hours), she rather aptly pointed out “Well, at least it’ll be interesting”.

Interesting, indeed, is exactly what it was. 24 Hour Musical was an appropriately ramshackle affair. The stage at Union Theatre was haphazardly set up with podium and chairs set in rows on one side of the stage, and a brightly-dressed bedroom on the other. The cast was all-female, and the band rocked it coolly at the back (setting the mood of ‘improvisational skill’ at the start with a jazzy jamming overture). The story was of four girls in their final year at a Catholic school in the 1960s. I am a little fuzzy on where exactly we were, since some of the girls had Australian accents, and others American. Starry-eyed Helmet spirals out of control when she discovers she is pregnant, and hasn’t studied for her up-coming exams. Muddy and Kaye (one a singer/fake soccer player, the other a recreational drug user and the story’s narrator) explore their sexuality by exploring, er, each other. The final performer (who’s character name escapes me), is an ambitious young black woman who struggles against gender and civil oppression to fulfil her dream of becoming a doctor. There was also the sober but wicked head teacher Sister Mary Catherine.

The music was the most impressive part of the show. A number of songs, similar in style yet each conveying the mood of the scene and serving to propel a plot or deepen the audience’s understanding of a character, were performed with great fervour. I do wish one of the actors (the one playing the doctor girl) had been less obvious about reading her lyrics off a prop textbook she carried. While I understand the necessity of having the lyric (in case you forget words written only 24 hours ago) it was a little distracting to see her always looking down. My favourite song was “Wouldn’t It Be Grand” a sweet love song first performed by Muddy and Donna (Muddy’s pink trench coat-wearing lover), then reprised by Muddy and Kaye at the end. The costumes were bright and exciting, the girls looked like a kind of acid trip version of a 60s Catholic school girl. Their voices were all quite fine (with a rocky vibe) and the acting was also good. These characters had a lot to deal with, and that was clearly conveyed by the four leads.

Herein lies the big problem with this experiment. The musical was short, only 40 minutes long, and those minutes were packed to bursting with women’s rights, civil rights, (implied) lapsed Catholicism, adolescence, abortion, gay rights and suicide. It was a little too much for one audience to handle. These important issues need to be dealt with using more time and a little less insensitivity (I found the jokes about abortion to be in pretty poor taste). Content over clarity is never a good call, especially in a work based around the practice of improvisation. However, despite this minor blunder, I enjoyed seeing the 24 Hour Musical experiment pan out. I really must commend the writing/directing/performing team (unfortunately uncredited on the Mudfest site) for their valiancy and their good sense of fun. It was certainly infectious in the theatre during their wild performance.

What 'Happened' Last Night....

I can honestly say I had no idea what to expect from The Happening. The 60s graphic of orange-hippy flowers on the Mudfest website told me nothing. The accompanying description (or lack thereof) excited my curiosity; “Colour. Music. Improvisation. Paint. Bodies. Art. Movement. Chaos. Calmness. Kinesis.”Was the audience going to be improvising? Were we even an audience? Maybe it would be some kind of paint party/orgy? The warnings of nudity, alcohol and coarse language certainly encouraged this line of thought. As did the advice: “Relax, respond and join The Happening…anything can happen.”

The website image for The Happening.

I was still confused. Also a little bit intimidated. So I decided to drag a friend along. We were greeted at the door with a glow stick wristband and assurances that it hadn’t started yet. The first room we walked into was decorated with big squares of yellow and orange fabric, gaffa taped to the ceiling.  The bar was made out of a door that was painted green and pink. The drinks had names like Kaleidoscope and Stained Glass Window. Best of all, punch was served out of tiny gumboots with squiggly straws. It felt a little bit like Bimbos, except more home-made and relaxed.

There were about 10 people total, sitting on crates in a circle having a quiet drink. We peeked into the adjoining room where it looked like some kind of arty thing (involving paint) was set up. We went on a quick trip to get cash and by the time we got back… something was definitely happening.

In the paint room, protected by Savers shirts and plastic footcovers, people were hurling, splashing, rubbing and dabbing paint on each other. There seemed to be a sudden influx of people because as we explored we found more and more rooms with more people in them. Fabric was hanging from every surface, making it look like the inside of a tent, or as if all the walls were cushioned. It was kind of like an Alice in Wonderland experience, walking past tiny coloured lights in bathtubs. There was a table set up with pipe cleaners, needles & thread, buttons and gauzy fabric in lurid colours with an unspoken invitation to decorate ourselves. I have just spent the last four weeks heavily involved in costuming for a college theatre production, so you would have thought I had seen the last of sewing, painting, cutting, working unusual materials into interesting shapes. But at some point that night I definitely found myself in the bathtub, sewing lace and buttons onto my friend’s sleeve.

It was at the point when someone said “I like your nose” that I looked in the mirror behind the bar. I had black paint smeared all over my nose and around my mouth, making me look like some kind of bear creature. The Happening had clearly happened all over my face. The shirt that I was wearing had been splattered and inscribed with various colours, words and textures. There were bits of lace, flowers, paint, buttons and even a fairy lights throughout my hair.  We chilled in the faux-beer garden set up outside, adding autumn leaves to the nest that was my hair and sipping more drinks.

Special mention has to go to the band for the improvised music. They created the mood, an ambience that made people want to ‘relax and respond’ through a seemingly fluid but harmonious melody. With the saxophone player weaving in and out of the party, the music seemed to weave together the randomness of all the different environments. The fact that there was always at least one shirtless guy dancing to them does not reflect the band’s talent.

It turned out to be one of those ‘adventure’ nights, a spontaneous decision to relax and go with whatever came across my path, that took me somewhere I wouldn’t have imagined. I wouldn’t really be sure that it had happened at all, if not for the paint stains I found on my hands in the morning.

Hilary Binks attended The Happening on the evening of Saturday 20th August (as part of the University of Melbourne’s biennial Arts festival, Mudfest 2011). The photos for this article were taken by Hilary and her friend using a mobile device and can be viewed at the Your Dripping Egg Website!

Musical of Musicals - the Musical! Review

‘The Musical of Musicals: The Musical’

I didn’t want to review a show on Friday evening. Instead, I’d been hoping to attend my friends’ “N”-themed housewarming. Lucky for me, I take my reviewing duties very seriously. As the first Mudfest 2011 show I’ve seen, The Musical of Musicals: The Musical certainly did not disappoint. In fact it entirely exceeded my expectations.

TMOM:TM is basically a piece of musical theatre written to (affectionately) rag on musical theatre. The show is five short pieces (satirising/paying tribute to different musical styles from the past century) with the same basic plot: “I cannot pay the rent”. These are driven by five archetypal characters: the ingénue (Emma Hoy), the hero (Jack Brown), the villain (Josiah Lulham), the confidante (Bianca Bruce) and the ensemble (Michael Leaver). Each piece respectively parodies the work of Rogers and Hammerstein (in Corn!), Stephen Sondheim (A Little Bit Complex), Jerry Herman (Dear Abby), Andrew Lloyd Webber (Aspects of Junita) and Kander and Ebb (Speakeasy).

Directors and co-producers Scott Dunsdon and Emma Leaver did a fantastic job of transforming the sometimes vacuous Union Theatre, giving it a more intimate—sort-of cabaret—vibe. I was struck, upon entering the space, by the simplistic set (all black, with a piano stage right and a small rostrum stage left) and the cool instrumental jazz cooing over the speakers. My only criticism of the show is that it might thrive in a smaller space.

As a lover of snark, I was surprised to find there was nothing to snark about in TMOM:TM. The show itself is wonderful, filled with broad humour and sharp insider jokes (yet never losing its wit and cool). Leaver and Dunsdon have opted for a simple vision. This ultimately enhances the show as it allows the concept, and the fabulous actors, to shine. The aforementioned set design is clean and effective. Dunsdon and Leaver are clearly great directors who know how to construct sharp, aesthetically-pleasing blocking. Some scenes (most of A Little Bit Complex and Speakeasy, for example) are concomitantly inspired and referential, giving the show that magical mixture of familiarity and freshness.

The lighting design was one of my favourite aspects. For something that looks so easy to pull off, it’s perfectly obvious when a lighting designer doesn’t know what they’re doing. TMOM:TM’s lighting captured the essence of the show perfectly, while also lifting it from its simple surrounds. It was just totally classy. The simple costume design matched that class, predominately blacks and whites. Another outstanding aspect was the exceptional effort from Simon Bruckard, the show’s sole instrumentalist. Bruckard (on piano) held the show together with an emphatic and impudent performance.

Now, to the actors, who undeniably made the show. Brown, Bruce, Hoy, Leaver and Lulham are clearly all accomplished performers – there wasn’t a botched line or bung voice between them. However, there was so much more than ‘accomplished’ in their performances. Each actor had impeccable comic timing, an extensive vocal range (and appealing, commanding voices), and a wonderful affinity with the stage. Jack Brown made an interesting, engaging ‘hero’. He has a fabulous rich vocal timbre and an easy physicality onstage. Michael Leaver (who voiced the ‘ensemble’) was a stand-out; he shone in Dear Abby and Speakeasy and his comfortable manner (and sweet physical comedy) held the five pieces together. Emma Hoy, whose comedic style has impressed me before, was predictably spectacular. She melds sweetness and maturity brilliantly and makes a complex, charming damsel. She also has some wonderful facial expressions.

Bianca Bruce was an absolute knockout. It’s worth attending the show just to see her performance. She is a gracious, hysterical comedienne with a truly magnificent voice. Her Merman/Lansbury/Channing was particularly on-the-nose. Josiah Lulham was fabulous. He is just totally smooth (and has wonderful physicality) onstage. He made an excellent faux-Emcee in Speakeasy, an absolutely outstanding villain in Corn!, and was just a complete joy to watch. I found that my eye always wandered to him, as he was always doing something fascinating. Another joy was the ingenious Leslie (the “talking program”). As Mudfest is a ‘paper-free’ event, the TMOM:TM team keep you informed during the show via a lucid voice-over (I’m assuming, an un-credited Scott Dunsdon). A couple of stand-out Leslie moments were a soliloquy on apples, and a wonderful crack about Rent.

TMOM:TM holds appeal for musical theatre-lovers (like me) and the general public alike. There are jokes for the masses, and some for those who know the genre inside and out. I attended TMOM:TM on opening night with some 25 other enthusiastic audience-members. TMOM:TM has 4 more performances during the Mudfest period, and I would highly recommend attending one of them. This show is a treasure, and deserves a much larger audience than the one it had on opening night!

The Musical of Musicals: The Musicals is showing at the Union House Theatre at the University of Melbourne from 19-25^th August (as part of the University of Melbourne’s biennial Arts Festival, Mudfest 2011). Dates, times and prices for the performances can be found here. Don’t miss out on this one folks; it’s truly a fab experience!

This review by by Matilda Dixon-Smith (part of Mudfest 2011) can also be read on Your Dripping Egg.