Tigers Be Still

Tigers Be Still
By Kim Rosenstock. Directed by Byron Bache/Boutique Theatre. Brunswick Metanoia Theatre (Vic). April 21st – May 2nd, 2015

We all live with tigers inside us – whether they be anger, greed, jealousy or, as in this play, depression – that will devour us if we don’t master them. Kim Rosenstock’s endearing, bittersweet play (with an obligatory “happy ending”) about a dysfunctional family of women all dealing with depression, is full of charm and laughs and “moments” (the entire play is made up of vignettes, some as short as 30 seconds) and works well on a superficial level. It’s entertaining, as ALL theatre should be, but ultimately it’s trite and superficial and neatly packages depression into clichés (she’s depressed because she’s fat/her boyfriend dumped her/she can’t get a job/he killed his mother in a car accident/his wife is dead).

Those of us who know depression – or have lived with someone suffering it – know that it’s never that simple, and those people will be disappointed that, at least subtextually, the play makes no attempt to delve deeper. It’s a play which desperately needs a strong dramaturg to drag out the darker side living beneath the laughs, and provide enlightenment alongside the all-important entertainment. Depression, after all, can be at its most terrifying when it strikes when everything is going well in your world. Far from darkening the play – it would add more to the comedy. It also needs to be played with more pace. Advertised at 90 minutes, it ran 110 – a sure sign that pace is dragging.

Sherry Wickman – beautifully played by Emma Caldwell – thinks all her problems will be solved when she gets a job at the local school (arranged by her mother who never leaves her room because she doesn’t want people to see she’s fat) but a tiger has escaped from the zoo (and apparently remains at large though barely mentioned for about 4 weeks) and provides a metaphor so clunky we might as well be hit on the head with a club wrapped in a Richmond footy jersey.

Boutique Theatre is a small company rapidly building a deserved reputation. Director Byron Bache is someone I have met several times and I admire his aesthetic towards text and his meticulous attention to detail, as well as his taste and integrity. He simply can’t direct a play if he doesn’t love it; if it doesn’t say something positive about connection and the human race. This may be a weakness, as well as a strength. Bache clearly loves this play and seems blinded to its superficiality. Bache says frequently in his other job (as theatre critic for a major newspaper) that it’s about truth in performance, and about connection; and I am in total agreement with him. Unfortunately there isn’t a lot of truth to be found in these characters, except in the lovely fully rounded performance by Caldwell.

Samantha Cunningham plays Grace – Sherry’s older sister – a woman who has been dumped while planning her wedding. She returns home to mum and sister, having stolen most of her ex’s prized possessions, including his two little dogs (in the hope that he will come after them). Psychology 101 would suggest desperation, a dependency on the ex, a cry for help, a spiralling into the pit. This is a character we should feel sorry for as she curls up on the couch, drinking herself to oblivion and watching endless repeats of “Top Gun”. Yet Cunningham makes her a vengeful nasty bitch without the required desperation. When Grace says, “I don’t know who I am without him,” we should be terrified for her – she’s lost and afraid, and has no idea how to define herself. Cunningham plays the line as though it pisses her off and is an inconvenience.

Rohan Mirchandaney is Zack, the Principal’s son who has accidentally killed his mother and spends much of his time in his mother’s shoe closet. He resists Sherry’s attempts to help but ultimately is drawn to her – or should be. It’s not that Mirchandaney isn’t a good actor; he is very fine in several of his scenes. It’s simply that he seems to be working in isolation; giving a performance rather than just “being”. There’s a total lack of connection between him and the other characters. At first I thought this was intentional, but no connection, no bond, forms as the play progresses – and it should, since all four of these people are on a journey of discovery and healing. Personally, I don’t want to see the technique at work – I just want to be touched.

Christopher Welldon, as Joe (Sherry’s boss and Zack’s father – and the teenage love of Mum in the locked bedroom), is convincing for the most part but seems too young in places. In re-locating the play to Australia, little thought has been given to the difference in our approaches to life. For example, it’s perfectly normal/acceptable for anyone, let alone a headmaster, to have a gun in America, but in Australia a teacher with a rifle would set off sirens and flashing “Danger Will Robinson” signs. Sherry’s reaction is surprise, but nothing more.

Bache has made some exquisite choices in background music; in the monochrome effect of the set (even the plant is grey), in sound, in video projection, and in blocking. It’s all beautifully done. But for me he hasn’t found the emotional heart of this piece and so it ends up more of a TV sitcom (which is where the playwright usually works) than magical theatre. That’s a missed opportunity for the play and the company.

Coral Drouyn

Photographer: Bodie Strain

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