By Nick Pilgrim
In my decade or more of writing for Theatre Matters (formerly known as Theatre People), I have had privilege to review many opening nights. Being asked to critique the very last performance of a show is a new first for me. Riding high on the wave of a successful run, there is a buzz amongst audiences knowing they are already assured a good time. How exciting is that?
Macbeth is one of William Shakespeare’s most popular and oft staged plays. Known for the main character’s descent into paranoic blood lust in pursuit of Scottish rule, to date I have already covered two very different interpretations of The Bard’s work.
In 2017, the Melbourne Theatre Company presented a post-apocalyptic blockbuster in the style of Mad Max meets Quentin Tarantino. Earlier this year, Malthouse Theatre set their hybrid vision (which often broke the fourth wall and departed from the script) in a stylised army bunker.
The common bond both experiences shared was even if viewers hadn’t seen the play, it was assumed they already knew the basic plot.
To say that PO PO MO CO have taken the story to the next level would be an understatement. I was also prewarned by the team that the show would be anarchic, camp, and contain lashings of full-frontal nudity. (The production notes also stated that audience members were welcome to leave at any point if they couldn’t handle this mangled foreskin of a show. Count me in!)
Loud, proud and unhinged, like Malthouse’s revisionary feminist spin, PO PO MO CO tells this version mostly from Lady Macbeth’s (or Macbreast’s) point of view.
If Dawn French or Jennifer Saunders and lads from Monty Python had a lovechild, this would be the hilarious result. Dressed (or undressed as the case may be) in Regency influenced costuming and makeup, adds a touch of wild pantomime to the overall proceedings.
Full and partial nudity played for comic effect demonstrates the absolute confidence and commitment shared by the hyperactive cast of four. Never once was there an element of self-conscious uncertainty. In fact, this “bits out” mindset added to the ridiculous and carefree fun of it all. With exposed body parts paraded left and right, there were very few limits spared in pursuit of a big laugh.
Playing multiple roles (sometimes with a split-second switch between parts), highlights the rigorous discipline it takes to be a performer. That the show runs full tilt for ninety fast-paced minutes, reinforces how actors are indeed elite athletes in disguise.
Lady Macbreast was devised and acted by Lily Fish, Hallie Goodman, Phoebe Mason, and Kimberley Twiner. Riffing and bouncing off one another with devilish glee, allowed viewers to enjoy the ride as much as them. (Fish and Twiner were part a previous show I reviewed for the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. The physical daring teetering calamity of Stickybeak was very much in evidence here.)
From anus-derived oracles, multi-breasted royalty, to actors riding on imaginary horseback, the show contains so many imaginative and stand-out moments that after a while I lost count.
I can only begin to wonder how insane the development process must have been. (It should be noted that co-direction was shared by Fish and Twiner.)
Creative credits include Claire Bird (co-deviser), Rebecca Church (early stages devising), Rinske Ginsberg (direction consultant), Bronwyn Pringle (lighting), Moses Carr (sound), Hannah Willoughby (tech operator), Kimberley Twiner and ‘Savers’ (costuming). Costume fabrication assistants are listed as Lily Fish, Lucy Fox, Hallie Goodman, and Maria Silva.
(Budget permitting, it is clear how resourceful and ingenious a group is when they can create a harmonious experience from limited funds. In fact, some of the cleverest shows I have seen worked these strict parameters to the wall.)
Though the group has assured me this was the very last performance of Lady Macbreast, the show would be a welcome return to any comedy or fringe festival calendar.
Image: Darren Gill
