Presented by: The University of Adelaide Theatre Guild
Reviewed: 17 November, 2022
The intimate and inclusive geometry of The Little Theatre is just the right size for this hybrid show. Some of its sight gags and much of its pathos would get lost in the sort of broad brushstroke production which a larger house would demand. There is a great deal more here than a funny play about satanic sock-puppets, although they do indeed appear. At heart, this wacky and whimsical piece deals with bereavement, loss, impotent rage, adolescent insecurities, and hypocrisies of all sorts. It kept the audience howling with helpless laughter. That’s smart writing for you – thanks to American playwright Robert Askins (currently working as both writer and producer on Netflix’s The Umbrella Academy).
Directed by Nick Fagan, who has yet to see a gritty and difficult play he doesn’t like, the cast of five transport us to a small town in Texas called Cypress, where an earnestly fundamentalist church has established a Christian Puppet Ministry, both to engage teenagers in the congregation as well as teach Bible truths to little children. Charged with the oversight of this ministry is the neurasthenic Margery (played by Emily Branford), worn to a frazzle since her husband’s death six months ago. Shiny-bright Pastor Greg, while attempting to give Margery an interest in life, would like to give her even more. Margery’s son Jason, clearly still dealing with his father’s death, is an introverted, softly-spoken, woebegone lad. As played by Matt Houston, Jason looks like a passive adult-sized Charlie Brown in dire need of counselling. Disruptive Tom Tassone plays the role of Timothy, an aggressively destructive older teen with an intractable crush on Margery. The third member of the Puppet Ministry team is wide-eyed Jessica, on whom young Jason dotes. Silently. Because Laura Antoniazzi builds her Jessica from docile to decisive with great subtlety, you don’t spot what she’s doing until she’s done it. Antoniazzi’s acting craft is excellent.
The show opens with a prologue from Tyrone, the evil persona within Jason’s stripy sock puppet with rods. Matt Houston/Jason/Tyrone delivers a racy, colloquial tirade about how evil and good came into the world. The polemic concludes, “When I have acted badly, in order that I may stay around the campfire, all I have to do is say…the devil made me do it.” Matt Houston’s character Jason voices the puppet in a stronger, rougher vocal quality. When Jason speaks next, he has the soft, unassertive voice of your standard young male teen.
The plot? Things happen. It’s worth seeing the show to find out precisely what. But the transformation of a mere hand puppet into a wholly separate entity from the young man who voices and operates it makes for wonderful theatre, and gives Houston many rich opportunities for humour, vocal gymnastics, intensely quick thinking and a series of demands on his acting that you simply don’t get from Chekhov. Despite the excellent interactions between all cast members, the writing demands that this is Jason’s party piece. And Houston is remarkable in the role. He retains stillness with commendable discipline, avoids caricature, and never goes for the cheap laugh. It is a fine performance.
As Bible-brandishing Pastor Greg, Brendan Cooney seems to be coated in a sort of evangelistic slick. He fairly gleams, natty man-bun and well-groomed beard adding to his holy patina. He bounces with fervour. Laura Antoniazzi plays Jessica with simplicity, genuineness and winsome believability. Although Tom Tassone’s role is complex, he makes sense of this bewildered boy on the cusp of manhood, unsure of almost everything except his overwhelming neediness.
Nick Fagan’s directorial orchestration of this piece is delicate, confident and reassuring. His actors know where they are going and what they are doing, and – what’s more important still – how they want us to feel about it all.
The set, designed by Nick Fagan and Heather Jones, serves the show above all. Nothing is unnecessary. Lighting design is by the irreplaceable Richard Parkhill, who knows how to mould awkward spaces and draw the audience to the target of the action.
Setting aside some untidy accent work, the enduring effect of this irreverent show is one of a very up-to-date dramedy. OK, I dislike the word, but it’s the best I can do in attempting to describe this complex, hysterically funny, mordant and wistful piece. See it.
Reviewed by: Pat H. Wilson
Venue: The Little Theatre, University Of Adelaide
Season: 17 – 27 November, 2022
Duration: 2 hours
Tickets: Price: $25:00 (concession $20:00)
Book: https://www.trybooking.com/events/landing?eid=846725&
