The Woman Tamer

Rob Reid is nothing if not courageous. So often one hears it said that real Art is born of taking risks. Couched in ambiguity this fascinating production risks being rebuffed for being obscure.

As an adapted version of a short insightful piece about Melbourne’s underworld by Louis Esson, written in 1910, it is like a puzzle and will be read by each audience member according to his or her knowledge, or lack of, about theatre, rehearsal techniques, old Australian vernacular and the works, life and times of Louis Esson.  It is reminiscent of his much longer work The Bride of Gospel Place - first performed in 1926.

This reviewer experienced The Woman Tamer as a rare confusing and provocative cerebral treat. That is not to say it is not a visceral experience, because it is, most particularly in the repetitive dressing and undressing of Kate Brennan that infers unquestioning monotonous sexual compliance.

The Woman Tamercommences in the small foyer of The Owl and the Pussycat with the ukulele backed melodic harmonic singing of Clara Pegone and Jack Beeby then moves into the performance space. Thereafter Tom Molyneux and Chopsey, the character he is playing, becomes the main focus of attention. The other three actors work strongly around, and in response, to him - portraying a number of characters using almost all the words of the original text. 

As actors, with the possible exception of Molyneux, none fully integrate their characters, but rather, in a Brechtian manner are both themselves and the characters they are interpreting.

The sum total reads as a sort of Abstract or sub-text and proffers a strange revelation - that could be interpreted as displaying the troubled mechanics of the writers mind.  Though the Director’s program notes suggest that it is the mental health of the main protagonist Chopsey that is being explored in relation to his poor sense of his own masculinity.

This is one of those productions where you are at liberty to make up your own mind about what is going on.   But you will have to catch it first, in its very short run at the public transport friendly Owl and the Pussycat just opposite the Richmond Station in Swan Street.

Suzanne Sandow