Showing posts with label Ash Flanders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ash Flanders. Show all posts

Wednesday, 18 July 2018

Review - Blackie Blackie Brown


Blackie Blackie Brown
The Traditional Owner of Death

By Nakkiah Lui

Directed by Declan Greene
Design – Elizabeth Gadsby
Animation and Video – Oh Yeah Wow
Lighting and Projection Design – Verity Hampson
Composition and Sound Design – Steve Toulmin
Concept Artist – Emily Johnson

Cast – Ash Flanders and Dalara Williams
Video Appearances – Elaine Crombie, Peter Carroll, Amelia Adam, Luke Carroll, Hugh Riminton, Lachlan Woods, Francis Greenslade, Nayuka Gorriem Malik Keegan, Lisa Maza, Kempton Maloney and Judith Lucy

Malthouse – Beckett Theatre – 5- 29 July 2018


Slick, tight, fast moving, massively loud and marvelously cathartic Blackie Blackie Brown is a kind of supernatural, part real and part animated, ‘Panto’.  And yes on opening night, with all its glitches, as audience we did get to call out - but not exactly; “he’s behind you!”

It feels like being a big kid - sitting too close to a TV turned up ridiculously, but satisfyingly, loud – watching a ‘grown ups cartoon,’ with images inspired by Emily Johnson.  Its an immersive, hard-hitting, clever, ironic world where there are no ‘thought police’ and no holes barred. 

Over all Blackie Blackie Brown is salacious, shocking and hysterically funny.

Hugely charismatic performers, Ash Flanders and Dalara Williams adopt appropriate personas for the numerous characters that people the versatile white significantly raked stage, designed by Elizabeth Gadsby.   They work with massive aplomb and vitality to meet and match the energy of the swiftly moving video installations that transform space, time and place by Oh Yeah Wow and complementary colossal sound design by Steve Toulmin.

Nothing is sacred and Nakkiah Lui’s script incorporates biting satire and much ‘political incorrectness’ on cultural matters - both black and white.  It is most definitely not for the faint-hearted but full of violence and brutality, particularly in the form of flying boomerangs, that leave no one unscathed or unharmed.

The central and pivotal moment of the work is the retelling of the story of an aboriginal massacre.  It is described with brutal clarity through the spoken word.  The audience then learns of the desperate, bloody and horrifying response from a mother who watched the inhumane murder of her children.  From thence us whities don’t get a chance to indulge in our pathetic shame.  Blackie Blackie Brown becomes a high octane revenge story.

A magnificent black female superhero Blackie Blackie Brown is incarnated to take a justified and vicious revenge on the descendants of those who brutalized her mob.

Strangely this ‘in your face artistic version’ of our, not so hidden anymore, history - although speaking much vile truth with clarity - is way more palatable dressed up in a witty, relentless, satiating theatrical romp then as a history lesson.

If you can get a ticket don’t miss it.


Suzanne Sandow

Sunday, 19 April 2015

Meme Girls - Review

Malthouse Theatre presents
Meme Girls

Created by Ash Flanders, Stephen Nicolazzo & Marion Potts
based on an original idea by Ash Flanders.
Direction – Stephen Nicolazzo
Set & Costume Design – Eugyeene Teh
Lighting Design – Katie Sfetkidis
Sound Design &Composition – THE SWEATS
Cast – Ash Flanders and Art Simone
Stage Manager – Lisa Osborn

Beckett Theatre
8 April to 2 May 2015

Art Flanders and Stephen Nicolazzo have a significant following in Melbourne.  They are, together and individually, unique voices in the contemporary Melbourne theatre scene.  I think it is fair to say their refined yet bright and bold, very visual approach to theatre, flair and irreverence has garnered significant respect from audiences.  
Art Simone and Ash Flanders - Photo Pia Johnston

Meme Girls is beautifully crafted/Directed - with set, lighting and sound exquisitely coordinated.  It looks fabulous and is lit by Katie Sfetkidis.  Designer Eugyeene Teh has woven her considerable magic to provide a set that infers numerous environments including the probing of a camera lens and perhaps the more relevant circle that is the Looney Tunes iconic signature image.  Over all Meme Girls offers a glorious loud, high camp opportunity to sit back and marvel at what can be achieved. 

However, as representations/imitations of You Tube posts, it often seems flat and without dimension.   Loud, brash, relentless, and generally without the use of the reflective relief of irony, the whole seems to be about narcissism and ultimately feels indulgent and narcissistic. 

Art Simone and Ash Flanders - Photo Pia Johnston

Assisted cleverly, with exquisite timing, by Art Simone who is dressed in stunning drag, Ash Flanders goes through transformations on stage to portray various fragile characters.  But most of the women vaguely realized by Flanders tend to morph and fade into each other.   They are not adequately integrated as individuals and there is starkness in their portrayal that borders on bland stereotype.  Perhaps it was the result of first night nerves and as Flanders relaxes into the show he will access the feminine with more veneration, joy, enjoyment and definition.

Art Simone and Ash Flanders - Photo Pia Johnston

There are at least two opportunities for sensitive and poignant explorations of women finding themselves in difficult and baffling circumstances.  However when rendered as unadorned imitation in a matter of fact way both, intimate revelations, lack dimension and soul.  Perhaps a clearer definition between performer and character or more thorough characterization would add texture and liberate meaning.

The whole is micro-phoned with enough amps to reach into the corners of a noisy nigh club and certainly supports Flanders ultimately rich and agreeable singing voice. 

Sadly I am left with little idea of what the creators are trying to communicate with this slick but lightweight work except perhaps a capacity to bring all elements of Theatre together to create a visceral event that does not require interrogation.


Suzanne Sandow
(For Stage Whispers)