I've commented before on the weird and wonderful array of people one can often find at The Basement Theatre in town, and that was under normal circumstances, imagine if you will the little trepidation that seized my non-hipster soul as I trundled out to attend the opening night of The Hermitude of Angus, Ecstatic, part of the Auckland Fringe festival. If Basement was already home to the fringe of Auckland's theatre-going public, what would the fringe of the fringe be like? And what piercing would I need to show in order to gain admittance?!
It turns out that the fringe of the fringe is, in fact, a Canadian comedian whose pseudonym makes him sound like he poses as a doctor, a passing comment which was not well received. He touched my friend's hair, called me the picture of manliness, and imagined out loud a rather alarming series of events whereby he was experiencing the wonders of the female period through his own penis. He was a charmer alright, and I shall call him Colin. Why you ask? Simple; the alliteration of Canadian Comedian Colin appeals to me.
Desperately I shall attempt to relate the last few sentences back to the show by saying that CCC set the tone for the evening; odd. Odd odd odd. Odd. [Some mighty fine writing once again cements my title as master of smooth segues.]
The Hermitude of Angus, Ecstatic is odd. It is also amusing. It's warm. It's fun. It's... mad. We descend the spiral staircase into the world and psyche of Angus, a sweet, if slightly decapacitated, homeless man. He wears a beanie not unlike that of Where's Wally, and likes to dance. We learn of his past. We learn of his future. We learn that it is very possible to make sweet, sweet love to a chocolate cake. We have absolutely no idea what he is on about, or what we laughed about, but we learn that life is a mess and sometimes you just have to go with it. [Aside - we also find that writing using the royal 'we' is strangely fulfilling.]
Essentially a one man show from Vachel Spirason (no... I have no idea how to pronounce that either), the show is somewhat reliant on the performer and luckily he's up to the task. Vachel has timing, understands how an audience thinks and has the opportunity to both rely on his script, and improvise at various times too giving the audience a chance to participate - be warned those of you frightened of being dragged up on stage! The series of vignettes from Angus' life, seemingly a series of cul-de-sac moments, have a strange and unexplainable cohesion.
Yes, ultimately I don't have a clue what happened, or what I was meant to have learned, but I laughed and so did everyone around me with the exception of Canadian Comedian Colin who hunched forward intently on his elbows for the duration of the play and stared at the performer as if trying to steal the essence of his "funny" by using just his mind. He also busied himself touching me knee at regular intervals.
The Hermitude of Angus, Ecstatic - go for the laughs, stay for weirdo in the seat next to you. (do it - you'll enjoy it)
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Friday, September 10, 2010
Songs For Guy
A return to the blog. I’ve been bad. I know. I make no excuses. I do not mention the broken internet connection. Nor do I consider telling you about the major publicity tour I have been engaged in of late. I wouldn’t dream of bringing up the promotions that have eaten into my sleep and, most likely truncated years off my life. You see I’m simply not that kind of guy.
Today my [not]-much-awaited return to the blog is in honour of a truly special show – Songs For Guy.
The concept: a cabaret-style evening of story-telling and songs from the perspective of a gay man living in New Zealand. Not one gay man, but a collection of individual gay men, all gay men in a sense. The songs range from Elton John and Billy Joel to South Pacific and Bruce Springsteen, and the stories have all been contributed by local gay men.
While typing the above paragraph I started to say that the show was a “celebration” of life from the gay perspective, but in fact I think one of the things I liked best about the show was that it wasn’t celebrating anything. It wasn’t in your face, it wasn’t angry or bitter, it just was. It seemed as natural as natural can be that these men would be talking and singing about love and the men they’d had it/done it/lost it with.
I wouldn’t like to say it “normalised” stories of gay romance, that would seem to dismiss the very reasons for its inception, but the show was so honest and open and (dare I say it again) natural, that nothing seemed amiss from any other show or bar that you might wander into.
This is the gay lifestyle I want to be a part of. Having always railed against the pill-popping, club-hopping, sleep with anything with a knob and a pulse (sometimes only one required) culture so often associated with the gay scene. This is what I’d like to see more of – gay people gathering for a drink, a sing-song and some stories that related to our lives, our experiences, and without the need for pomp and ceremony and making a big deal about it being our right to do so. We can be proud without being loud and alienating the straights.
I could be completely off the mark – this may not at all have been the intention of the show’s creators, but that’s what I took from it. As a result I believe people who don’t identify as gay can enjoy the show too, as general entertainment and an opportunity to see things from a different perspective.
The performers are all superb and all seem to come from different spheres of the gay menagerie. Cute-as-a-button Todd Emerson whom some of you may have seen me comment on before, is the stand-out to me. A) he’s the closest to my type but more importantly b) He has the clearest voice and best vocal control – attributes which did him credit in the intimate setting of the Limelight Room of the Aotea Centre.
[For Todd’s part in the shows creation, I now hereby absolve him of any responsibility in the theft of my solo in Faure’s Requiem when we were at school together.]
Also suffering the wrath of my wandering eye was Andrew Laing. He falls outside of mold of what I would describe as my type, but I would most certainly take me one of those. His cheeky expressions and deep, gruff voice drew my attention and certainly that of most of my table.
Enough stereotypical gay meat-marketing though – this is a show I urge you to see. Funny, poignant, beautiful and unique. I’m so pleased I went and would love to hear from you others who get along. I promise it won’t disappoint.
For those who are interested, this is the solo Toddstole from me rightfully earned, as sung by Kings College Cambridge.
Today my [not]-much-awaited return to the blog is in honour of a truly special show – Songs For Guy.
The concept: a cabaret-style evening of story-telling and songs from the perspective of a gay man living in New Zealand. Not one gay man, but a collection of individual gay men, all gay men in a sense. The songs range from Elton John and Billy Joel to South Pacific and Bruce Springsteen, and the stories have all been contributed by local gay men.
While typing the above paragraph I started to say that the show was a “celebration” of life from the gay perspective, but in fact I think one of the things I liked best about the show was that it wasn’t celebrating anything. It wasn’t in your face, it wasn’t angry or bitter, it just was. It seemed as natural as natural can be that these men would be talking and singing about love and the men they’d had it/done it/lost it with.
I wouldn’t like to say it “normalised” stories of gay romance, that would seem to dismiss the very reasons for its inception, but the show was so honest and open and (dare I say it again) natural, that nothing seemed amiss from any other show or bar that you might wander into.
This is the gay lifestyle I want to be a part of. Having always railed against the pill-popping, club-hopping, sleep with anything with a knob and a pulse (sometimes only one required) culture so often associated with the gay scene. This is what I’d like to see more of – gay people gathering for a drink, a sing-song and some stories that related to our lives, our experiences, and without the need for pomp and ceremony and making a big deal about it being our right to do so. We can be proud without being loud and alienating the straights.
I could be completely off the mark – this may not at all have been the intention of the show’s creators, but that’s what I took from it. As a result I believe people who don’t identify as gay can enjoy the show too, as general entertainment and an opportunity to see things from a different perspective.
The performers are all superb and all seem to come from different spheres of the gay menagerie. Cute-as-a-button Todd Emerson whom some of you may have seen me comment on before, is the stand-out to me. A) he’s the closest to my type but more importantly b) He has the clearest voice and best vocal control – attributes which did him credit in the intimate setting of the Limelight Room of the Aotea Centre.
[For Todd’s part in the shows creation, I now hereby absolve him of any responsibility in the theft of my solo in Faure’s Requiem when we were at school together.]
Also suffering the wrath of my wandering eye was Andrew Laing. He falls outside of mold of what I would describe as my type, but I would most certainly take me one of those. His cheeky expressions and deep, gruff voice drew my attention and certainly that of most of my table.
Enough stereotypical gay meat-marketing though – this is a show I urge you to see. Funny, poignant, beautiful and unique. I’m so pleased I went and would love to hear from you others who get along. I promise it won’t disappoint.
For those who are interested, this is the solo Todd
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Grease!
Another day, another dollar, another opening night at the glorious Civic. [Actually with the hours I'm working at the moment, one dollar seems quite an accurate valuation of my current wage. Plus opening nights at the Civic are far too rare, and in no way tied to my paltry dollars so pretty much just ignore that wee introduction. I digress!]
Having unsuccessfully scoured the lyrics for a less trite, clichéd introductory line I'm going to go with the old favourite... Grease is the word!
The most successful movie-musical of all time is back on the stage and bursting at the seams with laughs, energy and catchy tunes.
There's a catch though - to fully enjoy it you need to leave some of your preconceived ideas about the characters behind. It's tough to take such an iconic film with dozens of memorable roles and not draw comparisons between the on-stage cast and John Travolta, Olivia Newton-John, Stockard Channing, Frankie Avalon.
The actors and production team have tried to create their own unique takes on these roles and characters. A good thing for sure. If they didn't then they'd basically be copy-cat-ing and who wants to see a weaker, watered-down, mimic of some pretty fun characters?! If you can embrace these new characters you'll have an absolute blast.
Beauty School Dropout is perhaps the most changed of all the songs and by gum was it impressive. Disgustingly well looked-after Frankie Avalon with his slightly orange skin, pearly whites and trim frame has been replaced by a beautiful big black diva belting out those high-notes and surging through the rises which that wvroomph that comes from deep within. That song is completely transformed in pitch, tempo and feel, and is a great example of how a re-working from the film version of the song can rock your socks off, and take nothing away from the one you remember and love.
But it's not only our diva'd out angel who can sing, all of the cast are impressive vocally and manage to capture that 50's squeak in the voice. All turn in excellent performances too, comic and endearing, alluding to, changing, but also adding to, those performances we've all seen so many times on DVD.
The production values are top-shelf with brilliant, colourful sets that range from bed rooms to gyms, diners to schools. There's an actual Greased Lighting car which explodes onto stage. For crying out loud - they even keep a 7-piece band in bright shimmery pink suits in the ceiling! The costumes are also excellent, so much so that I considered trying to get hold of a sweater-vest after the show.
Most important was that I didn't stop smiling for two and a half hours. I got chills. They multiplied. Eventually I lost control and sang to the lady next to me ('Oh Sandy' become 'Oh Wendy').
Grease is a brilliant night out and I highly recommend getting yourself a ticket! Usually a shy and retiring, reticent personality, I left unable to stop shaking my groove thing and singing at a socially unacceptable level. No one seemed to mind.
__________
Five pink ladies!
PS - All of a sudden I'm ridiculously excited by the prospect of this:
Having unsuccessfully scoured the lyrics for a less trite, clichéd introductory line I'm going to go with the old favourite... Grease is the word!
The most successful movie-musical of all time is back on the stage and bursting at the seams with laughs, energy and catchy tunes.
There's a catch though - to fully enjoy it you need to leave some of your preconceived ideas about the characters behind. It's tough to take such an iconic film with dozens of memorable roles and not draw comparisons between the on-stage cast and John Travolta, Olivia Newton-John, Stockard Channing, Frankie Avalon.
The actors and production team have tried to create their own unique takes on these roles and characters. A good thing for sure. If they didn't then they'd basically be copy-cat-ing and who wants to see a weaker, watered-down, mimic of some pretty fun characters?! If you can embrace these new characters you'll have an absolute blast.
Beauty School Dropout is perhaps the most changed of all the songs and by gum was it impressive. Disgustingly well looked-after Frankie Avalon with his slightly orange skin, pearly whites and trim frame has been replaced by a beautiful big black diva belting out those high-notes and surging through the rises which that wvroomph that comes from deep within. That song is completely transformed in pitch, tempo and feel, and is a great example of how a re-working from the film version of the song can rock your socks off, and take nothing away from the one you remember and love.
But it's not only our diva'd out angel who can sing, all of the cast are impressive vocally and manage to capture that 50's squeak in the voice. All turn in excellent performances too, comic and endearing, alluding to, changing, but also adding to, those performances we've all seen so many times on DVD.
The production values are top-shelf with brilliant, colourful sets that range from bed rooms to gyms, diners to schools. There's an actual Greased Lighting car which explodes onto stage. For crying out loud - they even keep a 7-piece band in bright shimmery pink suits in the ceiling! The costumes are also excellent, so much so that I considered trying to get hold of a sweater-vest after the show.
Most important was that I didn't stop smiling for two and a half hours. I got chills. They multiplied. Eventually I lost control and sang to the lady next to me ('Oh Sandy' become 'Oh Wendy').
Grease is a brilliant night out and I highly recommend getting yourself a ticket! Usually a shy and retiring, reticent personality, I left unable to stop shaking my groove thing and singing at a socially unacceptable level. No one seemed to mind.
__________
Five pink ladies!
PS - All of a sudden I'm ridiculously excited by the prospect of this:
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