Monday, 4 April 2016

Vale, Bob Ellis, an Australian Colossus.

Bob Ellis, one of the great, Protean figures of Australian cultural and political life, passed away on Sunday afternoon after battling a rare liver cancer. A magnificent fig has fallen.

Bob was never dull - he was hyperbole's bosom friend - and always wrote and behaved with the future and morality of his beloved nation at heart. He could compose a phrase like no other, making it sing like a thought never before sung, whether for a politician's speech, an essay, criticism, or a film or play. He was one of our great writers, a thinker, a contributor, a scoundrel, a provocateur, a melancholic warrior, a comrade. His roguery and relish marked him as an Australian Gore Vidal. Like no other, he inhabited the forests of politics, arts and culture equally. He was indisputably an Australian colossus.

Many years ago, I loved directing a workshop of one of his plays at Sydney Theatre Company. Ever since, like many others in my field, I mostly saw Bob in theatre foyers. The fellowship was enduring and I usually came away knocked-up and nourished by at least one outlandish claim. But this was his mode: he was one of our great mythologisers.

His books are pleasure gardens of insight, and I own them all. I was a daily reader of his blog. On Sunday night, Bob's son, Jack, posted Bob's school report on the blog. It is touching in its accurate simplicity.

A sad Sunday night. And so it goes...

Sunday, 3 April 2016

On Simon Stone's 'The Daughter'

I saw Simon Stone's debut feature film 'The Daughter' recently.

It's a terrific film, with an Ingmar Bergman-like tautness and a keen understanding of film form that makes for a deeply affecting experience.

The film is derived from Ibsen's 1884 play 'The Wild Duck', which also stimulated a stage production written and directed by Stone in 2011. That production has played a few places in Australia, as well as Amsterdam, Vienna, London, and at Oslo's Ibsen Festival.

Stone has had a sometimes uneasy relationship with Australian theatre, particularly in regard to his adaptations of plays by other authors. But it has not affected his now terrifically successful career in Europe. Last year his production of Ibsen's John Gabriel Borkman for Vienna's Burgtheater and Theater Basel earned him a best director award. In March this year, he staged Ibsen's Peer Gynt in Hamburg, while in July his take on Lorca's Yerma will open at London's Young Vic. In August, Stone will direct his debut opera, Die tote Stadt, in Basel - he is the in-house director at Theater Basel - followed soon after by Debussy's Pelléas et Mélisande for the Norwegian National Opera and Ballet. Another opera will follow in late 2017 at the Salzburg Festival. That's a packed creative itinerary.

The film's setting in a contemporary Australian logging community feels like a nod to Norway, but still feels very much of this country. The language is authentically Australian, effortlessly so, and the film even manages to unmask some of the class issues of a nation that likes to tell itself that it doesn't have any.

The cinematography and production design are beautiful and precise - each with a coherent and purposeful language (rare in Australian film) - and Mark Bradshaw's score is one of the best I've heard. All of the performances are top notch, but Ewen Leslie, who played the same role in the stage version, sits at its blood heart. A privilege to watch him.

The audience I saw the film with were clearly gripped, with some, I sensed, experiencing this story of family and secrets as a reflection of their own. Gasps towards the end, and tears. A wonderful experience.