Left - Noeline Brown and Barry Creyton as Angela and Toby. Cover - Noeline Brown as Shelly. Photos - Steve Lunam Practice makes perfect. No wonder, then, that Noeline Brown and Barry Creyton hover so very near to that mark, in Peter Quilter's very conventional (in the best possible sense) Duets.
NB & BC have been around almost as long as the latter's initials suggest, reaching back at least as far as their first performance together, in the legendary Philip Street Revue, at the correspondingly eponymous theatre, circa '62.
But before waxing lyrically about the fabric of the thespian couple's contemporary performance, let's look at the material; 'the Quilt', if you will. The biographical detail that his plays have been translated into 19 languages and presented in 27 countries probably says enough on its own. (Then again, Britney Spears is inescapably famous.) But there's plenty more cred where that came from; like two West End shows and sensational seasons in many of the world's greatest cities, including Cape Town, Prague, Amsterdam, Montreal, Napoli, Rio and Olympic also-ran, Chicago.
Duets consolidates Ensemble's substantial relationship with Quilter, it being the third of his plays to be produced there, over the last three or four years. Dedicated to Neil Simon, it comprises a quartet of two-handers; two each side of interval. All in all, it's 2 hours in the theatre, well-spent, as it's exceptionally well-written, if in no way challenging or controversial. Quilter is all about understated craft and nuance and there are probably those brash, young things who'll not be satisfied with that and who'll not have the eyes or ears to see or hear it.
First off, we meet Jonathon & Wendy. Creyton, who, out of character, looks as fit as a fiddle for his, or any age, is barely recognisable, at first, as an elderly bloke with a pronounced paunch and bushy eyebrows. His very carriage, as well as every other facet of his bodily, facial, emotional and vocal disposition is adapted entirely, to become Jonathon. It's an extraordinary, jaw-dropping feat of finesse and his first saunter across the stage would've been enough to confirm his status as a laudable elder statesman of Australian and international theatre.
Jonathon opens the door to greet Wendy, Noeline's almost equally consummate transformation. (Not even the most ardent adherence to Stanislavsky would have yielded more convincing characterisations.) 'Are you Jonathon; dark-haired, olive-skinned, 47?' Here is Quilter's art: establishing, in a single bound of dialogue, the automatically amusing, desperate dating scenario. Creyton & Brown establish two charming characters, who we can laugh at, and with, as well as readily recognise, in ourselves, or our relatives. For the pre-boomer subscription audience so central to Kirribilli cultural life as I observe it, these wrinkled skins must have been easy to inhabit. This is the 15-minute meeting Jonathon & Wendy have arranged, so as to avoid the prolonged ignominy of a dinner date that mightn't work out. A kind of pre-date checkup. Wendy, not knowing what to bring to a man's home ('it's easy for men, who can bring flowers or chocolates'), brings a wheel of cheese, while Jonathon has the vodka at the ready, to stiffen the orange juice, as might be required. It's a setup with a foothold in possibility, making for easy comedy, but distinguished by an acute study of human behaviour, brought to fruition, here, in shining interpretations by the actors of the finely-wrought work on the page. It's a heart-warming, affectionate look at the eccentricities inherent in aging and the disarmingly dry, sardonic stoicism, at once indefinable, elusive and very real, that's inseparable from the idea of being Australian.
Americans Janet & Gary might be in a very similar apartment, but couldn't be any further removed, culturally: sophisticated, cosmopolitan and, in Gary's case, gay. As his personal assistant, spending long hours by his side, Janet, in simultaneous awareness and denial of Gary's orientation, craves his companionship, and more, on a deeper level. This creates an undertow, as both skim and skip, playfully, over the froth at the shoreline, rather than venture the short distance that will see them dumped by ominous waves. What threatens to end in tears is averted by their plan to cut short Gary's birthday celebrations with departure on a cruise (where, again, the bulk of the liner will once again conceal an ocean of feeling). It's a powerful exploration of a plausible relationship; one only resolved in the most temporary of senses. While Brown has more trouble with the accent, Creyton utterly reinvents himself and is, again, thoroughly convincing, with his upright, out-and-out gay pride, repartee and slight air of lonesome tragedy.
Shelley & Bobby are the long-married, divorcing Aussie couple on their last hurrah holiday in Spain, still drawn and torn apart by it. It's not hard to find the sweet, let alone downright funny amidst what is overwhelmingly sorrowful. It's Brown who takes centre-stage here, in her drunken clarity. Bobby may be more sober, but is drowning in confusion and anger. Again, Quilter shows his enviable knack for making the bitter pill of pathos easier to swallow, given liberal dashes of good-natured humour.
Angela & Toby are brother and sister; Angela, about to marry for the third time, with her nagging, gnawing doubts exacerbated and symbolised by electrical storms, downpours and spilt coffee. She is finally, nakedly confronting her doubts & fears, with the underlyingly tender support of her sarcastic sibling, expert in the art of euphemism in a way only English Protestants can be. Their defiantly stiff upper lips are challenged by middle-aged crises brought on by the inescapable sense of looming mortality. Again, however, the seriousness is smothered, but never submerged, in smart one-liners; spoonfuls of sugar to make the medicine go down. Brown & Creyton match each other's breathtaking expertise in sympathetically drawing these difficult characters.
Again, there are those who'll likely dismiss this work as trivial, lightweight and throwaway. In form, it's conservative. But in content, adventurous: it has substance, subtlety and subtext many 'darker' playwrights, eager to impress their devil-may-care blatancy, could benefit from. Quilter, Creyton and Brown have presented a theatrical masterclass. I hope it's far from their swansong.
In all this, I haven't even mentioned the tirelessness of director Sandra Bates, who is so consistently outstanding as to be invisible: since there are no cracks to be seen, it's all too easy to forget her unseen, but irreplaceable hand, the instrument of such delicate touch.
Good on all the ever-cheerful, obliging, dedicated and smiling front-of-house staff, too, who shine a more positive light on the often dour and pretentious face of Sydney theatre. Having said that, one could do without the look-you-up-and-down evaluations of lower north shoremen and women, who seem reluctant to share 'their' theatre with unfamiliar faces. Oops! Sorry. I think my paranoia is showing. Still, a YSL apres-yachting sportscoat and those confounded boating mocassins would've helped me blend.
Ensemble Theatre presents
Duets
by Peter Quilter
Director Sandra Bates
Venue: Ensemble Theatre, 78 McDougall Street, Kirribilli
Dates: Aug 27 to Oct 3, 2009
Tickets: $39 - $63 (booking charges may apply)
Bookings: 02 9929 0644 or www.ensemble.com.au
