Gloria is a play by Benedict Andrews. Says Mr Andrews in his note in the program: “Gloria depicts an actress in the grip of an emotional breakdown.’ Performing, onstage, Gloria cannot distinguish her ‘play’ role from her ‘life’ role. Through fraility, both become entwined and a personal calamity ensues.”
This production of Gloria, by the Griffin Theatre Company, directed by Lee Lewis, is an incredibly ambitious one, considering the technical demands of the writing by Mr Andrews, with its many scene juxtapositions of imaginative leaps back-and forth in time through a scrambled writing play construct, that is further compounded by the complicated techniques that Ms Lewis has taken to present the work (remember her visual ambition with Rupert). These technical directorial offers are sometimes so overwhelming that they can distract one from the thrust of the writing.
However, whatever the confusions of the text or the production itself, it can be – was for me – an exciting night in this tiny theatre. And, it is because of this very audacity of Ms Lewis’ visual ambition (whether it all works or not, and who knows? it may, with a settling time experienced), and, most especially, because of the leading performance.
In the SBW Stables Theatre we bear witness to an incredibly exciting performance from Marta Dusseldorp as Gloria. In all the deliberate literary chaos of Mr Andrews’ playwriting structure and the sometimes obfuscating organisation of seven actors in the stage ‘furnishings’ in this cramped space, with a compositional sound ‘weight’ that can overwhelm clarity of information, Ms Dusseldorp, with a deeply immersed sense of the character’s journey and a remarkable stage presence with all the honed skills of a ‘classic’ actor, demarcates a commitment and clarity to every moment of every scene that she is engaged with. The personal surety of this actor illustrated by her commanding focus is the ‘life buoy’ for the audience in the teeming offers of the production style, for she delivers with every gesture – physical (elegant) and vocal (mesmerising) – a promise of clarity and the reward of an earned ‘wisdom’, for us who pay strict attention, in trying to un-puzzle the work we are watching. One latches onto every moment from Ms Dusseldorf and it is rewarding in its craftsman’s cluing – it has the’ beauty’ and ultimate thrill of solving a complicated mathematical problem – we are made to feel ‘Sherlock’-like in our riddling of the events of the writing. Ms Dusseldorf is magnificent. The reason to go. After an absence from the theatre with her involvement with other media – especially, television – it is a wonder and a gift to see her live on stage again, at last.
The other actors of this production seem, relatively, to be slightly ‘under-cooked’ by the director in their contributions, which are, however, good, competently efficient. Chloe Bayliss, plays her characters’ function well, while Meyne Wyatt appears not always certain as to what is going-on. (I wonder, how difficult it is to begin a play as a wandering voice-over?! Neither sight nor sound [text] able to be pin-pointed by the audience to be able to get on board with the play or persona. It leaves Mr Wyatt in a kind of nether-land.) Even the usually reliable and impressive Huw Higginson signifies a bewilderment inside the work, indicated, for me, by an ‘actorly’ vocal delivery of his responsibilities, in both halves of the play, that sits oddly in his communication to us – is he real or just a puppet/symbol? It is not clear what the answer is from the Direction of the acting at present. The basic questions in staging a work of Who are they?, Where are they? When is it? did not seem to have sufficient agreed upon clarity of purpose from the overall team of the cast – or maybe, as I suggested earlier, that will settle down as they become used to the playing in the production’s stage management demands, which they also have to ‘perform’ – it is a high demand from the Director. Pierce Wilcox is useful in all of his incarnations, while Kristy Best does not give us much dimension, and young Louis Fontaine is simply a young child actor, caught-up in a whirl, swirl of activity – his character dimension is his youthful appearance.
Gloria is a writing achievement – even if it concerns a phenomenon that has often been examined many times before, and maybe of an interest to a very limited percentage of the population – other (indulgent) artists – and could be suggested, is a kind of pre-occupying navel-gaze for the arts. Mr Andrews, himself cites, alludes to John Cassavetes’ film OPENING NIGHT (1977), with the staggeringly great Gena Rowlands and then we have had Darren Aronofsky’s examination of the brittle line of sanity a creative artist may walk, in his Black Swan (2010) – it seemed to me there were, as well, some visual allusions to Requiem for a Dream (2000) in this production; Alejandro Inarritu’s Birdman (2014) is a more recent visitation; whilst another memory of this subject matter is a personal favourite: A Double Life (1947), Directed by George Cukor. Ingmar Bergman has famously covered similar territory in his career output, as well: Persona (1966). Gloria, in fact, now that I think of it, has a kind of flavour of the Scandinavian, ‘television-noire’ about it – and, that is not to its detriment!
Gloria is a kind of demented love song to the theatre and to actresses in particular … [who] must possess the boundless play of children, the frenzied imagination of a poet, the forensic mind of a detective, as well gigantic hearts.
This is what Ms Dussledorp delivers triumphantly.
A ‘State of the Nation’ play it is not. But, then, Ms Lewis has thought this of many other plays, she has curated and directed, for the Griffin, as well: A Rabbit for Kim Jong-Il and Replay for instance – but saying it is so does not make it so. Reading this play one sees the deeply personal examination of an artist in crisis not a nation in crisis – to say so, no matter some of the images of the video design of this production layered onto it: street riots, fighting, modern war reconnaissance, seems to be drawing a very long bow to claim the play is about the nation.
Myth, Propaganda and Disaster in Nazi Germany and Contemporary America (2003), by Stephen Sewell (well, most of his plays, really), The Modern International Dead (2009), by Damien Millar, and the recent Tribunal from the Fairfield based Powerhouse Youth Theatre, all productions that began life on the SBW Stables stage, by the way, are what I would define as ‘State of the Nation’ plays. We are waiting still in 2016 for that ‘State of the Nation’ play and Gloria by Benedict Andrews is, unhappily, not it.
New Australian theatre writing seems oddly reluctant to write about the big issues of our nation – or is it that the ‘gate-keepers’ are afraid to schedule them – not box office sureties? The questioning, the debating of our country’s moralities not, necessarily, guarantees of ‘corporate’ profits? Style and fluff triumphs over substance? Bread and Circus in our times our ‘censored’ diet? The announced seasons for next year’s delectation from our theatre companies so far seem the same old, the same old safety first. (Malthouse season, in Melbourne arrested my attention, though.) Even our revue artists are reluctant to touch the ‘sores’ of our nation: check out the Sydney Theatre Company’s Back to Bite You to see what I mean: harmless fun to swallow along with your drink from the bar!
Go and see Gloria to see a ‘great’ performance by Marta Dussledorp. The best of this year, I reckon (so far!) Too, to admire the courage and ambition of Ms Lewis. And, if you can find the ‘State of the Nation’ play in it all, it will be a bonus. See what you can make of it. Maybe I am just a dullard of perception. Worth debating.
Company: Griffin Theatre Company
Venue: SBW Stables Theatre, Kings Cross, Sydney
Dates: 26 August – 8 October 2016
Kevin Jackson
For more of Kevin Jackson’s theatre reviews, check out his blog at Kevin Jackson’s Theatre Diary
David Edwards is the editor of The Blurb and a contributor on film and television