Only An Orphan Girl

With Only An Orphan Girl the Adelaide Rep have put together a lively pastiche of ye olde music hall variety shows, in which a nonsensical melodrama unfolds episodically, interspersed with snappy stand-up comedy routines, spirited singalongs of standards like “Long Way To Tipperary” and “My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean”, with some simple magic tricks thrown in for good measure. The audience are encouraged to heckle, cheer and boo over the course of the evening, and much of the humour is derived from the performers’ exaggerated expressions in response to this, as well as their spitfire comebacks.

Joshua Coldwell’s MC introduces each segment of the show with extravagant hyperbole and if the opening night audience is anything to go by, the man’s enthusiasm is very contagious – he had little trouble goading the crowd into clapping along and was always ready with a witty retort to the more lewd catcalls.

The 19^th century melodrama that unfolds concerns a dastardly, Snidely Whiplash style villain (played with moustache-twirling glee by Barry Hill), trying to swindle some wholesome, all-American farmers out of their land – which involves an attempted seduction of  his long lost niece (played with nauseating sweetness by Sophia Bubner), trapping the hero (a gormlessly idealistic Robert Bell) in a barn with a slowly-detonating bomb instead of just shooting him and tying up the heroine so she can be placed in the way of a slow-moving sawmill-buzzsaw while he monologues maniacally about his all-consuming need for vengeance.

Everything about this scenario is exaggerated, from the “Home On The Range” accents of the country-hick supporting characters (Jude Hines, Rose Vallen, Gary Anderson, Jean Walker and Penelope Hamilton-Smith all have striking moments of camp stupidity), to the deliberately tacky sets, kitsch props and cartoonishly coloured costumes.  Puerile double-entendres and forehead-slappingly lame puns abound. Taken as a whole, it’s cheez elevated to the level of comic genius.

Much the same can be said about Wayne Anthoney’s magic routine, in which he assumes a bungling persona and makes a whole lot of “so unfunny that they’re funny” jokes, which has the effect of making his successful sleight-of-hand tricks seem almost surprisingly competent.

Richard Hobson, Rebecca Kemp and Annie Hall lead the singalong portions of the evening with gusto, and are strongly supported by pianist Sandi McMenamin and drummer Rowan Dennis.

The retro flavour of this show’s humour will be an acquired taste, and those uncomfortable with audience participation would be well advised to look elsewhere for their evening’s entertainment.  Still, the Adelaide Rep have done a marvellous job of capturing the spirit of another era with this piece, and those whose sense of humour is open to works with a camp sensibility are sure to have a blast with this show.

Benjamin Orchard

Photographer: Norm Caddick.