Chris Eldon Lee reviews ‘Ladies Down Under’, which is at the New Vic Theatre in Newcastle-under-Lyme until Saturday 30 March.
Does loads of money make you happy? Or just afford you a better standard of sadness? That question is hidden away somewhere in Amanda Whittington’s bittersweet sequel to ‘Ladies Day’.
Having won £500,000 pounds on a bet at the races, our four fish factory workers now head to Australia for the sun, intent on spending.
We got to know and love these well-drawn women when the original play was staged at the New Vic a year or so ago. The fact that all five actors are back (plus one more) can only prove how much fun they – and we – had back then. A happy cast feeds a happy audience which feeds a happy cast … and so on.
Annie Kirkman still shines as the loved-hated, shell-backed doll, ‘Shelley’. Jo Patmore is even more well-meaning and gullible as the dowdy ‘Linda.’ Tanya-Loretta Dee’s ‘Jan’ is struggling again with her self-assertion and Kate Wood’s portrayal of retirement-age ‘Pearl’ gives her character more depth because she now has a secret to hide. Excellent performances, all.
They are joined once again by the brilliantly versatile Gareth Cassidy (as their former factory supervisor, ‘Joe’) who has even more characters to add to his portfolio, including a drugged up, English public schoolboy beach bum … and a glammed up, drag queen – ‘Koala Bare’ – at the gay Madi Gras. There is simply no end to his comedy genius.
The new actor – Richard Lund – is genuinely Australian and consequently makes a fine job of being a bleached out surfing addict and a bushwacking outbacker; and challenges Gareth (and RuPaul, even!) in his gay get-up as ‘Bondi Bitch’.
With all these fabulous characters at her disposal, and a ready and willing audience, director Marieke Audsley has a lot going for her as she puts the show together.
Whittington wrote ‘Ladies Down Under’ in 2007 and it provides a wide variety of comic set pieces … starting at Manchester Airport with some early big laughs. Shelley has the latest thing (of course), a mobile phone that also takes photos. The others don’t think it will ever catch on … and are more worried about succumbing to ‘DVDs’ on the long haul flight.
The flight itself is a well-choreographed hoot, with the two men earning spontaneous applause as they camp it up as flight attendants, and the women adopting those impossible postures as they struggle to get comfy.
I was strapping myself in for two and a half hours of slapstick … but Whittington’s script twists and turns … and not always gracefully. It turned out to be a very turbulent trip … and you could see the joins in the plot.
Numerous Australian cliches are ridiculed. Is Bondi Beach any better than Blackpool? What’s the point of surfing? Can you “really find” yourself in the Wilderness? How big are the spiders? There are also several crowd-pleasing deserved digs at “I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.”
But then the women wind up at the spiritual centre of the continent, to witness the mystical sunrise at Uluru (Ayres Rock). Pearl is moved to quote Shakespeare … only to be deflated by a couple of trite Madonna lines.
The New Vic technical team wonderfully evoke the spirituality of Uluru with shifting light and shade, waves of heat haze and subtle sound-around. And the women do come to their conclusions. Facts are faced. Life-decisions are made. Partnerships are forged. Philosophy is eventually expressed and there is satisfaction at their inner realisations. Its just the getting there that feels unevenly cooked.
The play contains all the ingredients it requires to be a success. But the script could have done with a little longer in the oven.