A Bad Time for Songs

A Bad Time Songs- Christchurch Drama Centre, Queenslea Dve, Claremont. Written by Garreth Bradshaw Directed by Garreth Bradshaw and Joanne Williams Upon walking into the theatre you could almost be forgiven for thinking you've just stumbled in halfway through a rehearsal. The stage is mostly bare aside from a few sticks of furniture, a microphone stand, and a small turntable incongruously playing classic honkytonk tunes from the thirties and forties. Why is this so? Perhaps it is Brechtian. Suddenly all becomes clear -or at least relatively clearer- when our first actor (Sam Davenport), dressed head to toe in white, steps onto the stage and proclaims himself to be Kurt Weill. From there we are introduced to Garreth Bradshaw, complete with record-smashing attitude, as the enigmatic Bertholt (Bertie) Brecht, dressed entirely in black. What follows is one of the most unique and inventive nights of entertainment I've ever experienced. The show jumps seamlessly from dramatised moments of the artists' public and personal lives to performance of various songs (performed to both live and recorded music), poems, and excerpts from Brecht's plays, and back again. The effect is startling, with periods of slapstick comedy blending into moments of pure tragedy. You may find yourself laughing, then reeling with horror. The thirties-style gangster you're watching at this moment might very easily become Hitler the next. Of course it's impossible to undertake any study of Brecht or Weill without mentioning the war, and this show does not shy away from the hard and still distressing images emanating from those times. The use of overhead projections and multimedia is a particularly powerful aspect of this production. The introduction of Claire Taylor, this time dressed completely in red, injects a sense of energy and fun into the production, and her singing of Weill's works is a major highlight of the show. Indeed both Davenport and Taylor are very talented singers, bringing pathos and strong characterisation to their pieces. Whilst Bradshaw himself is not the strongest of the singers, he steps into his own during the poetry readings. His powerful delivery, particularly in the Ballad of the Love-Death, is accomplished and passionate; his actions confronting and engaging. The show had only one or two technical glitches during the evening, one of which involving the tangling of a microphone cable around its stand, which took Taylor a few moments to sort out. However sort it out she did, patiently and professionally, never breaking character and even inviting the audience to join in the ridiculousness of the situation. One suspects that Brecht couldn't have planned it better. All in all this show is both fun and thought-provoking; the material wise, humorous and touching, and always edged with black. The actors step between their characters and personas as easily as they might change their coats, never forgetting we're there and constantly inviting us to be co-conspirators in their mischief. And one can't help but join in. I think Bertie would be proud. The show runs 16, 17, 18, 22, 23, 24 and 25 of November from 8pm. Michael Lamont