Stranger than Trump? Penn & Teller provide the best performance art of the day

MAGIC
Penn & Teller 50th Anniversary Tour ★★★★
Hamer Hall, until January 26

Having sold out in 2022, legendary magicians Penn & Teller return to Hamer Hall on the Australian leg of their 50th Anniversary Tour. The show celebrates the golden jubilee of a magical comedy duo of peerless popular appeal and longevity – lest anyone think they have no tricks left up their sleeves, the duo begins this outing with an onstage miracle.

Magicians Penn & Teller perform at Hamer Hall.Credit: Mark Gambino

It’s a classic trick, actually – cutting a length of white polyester in two and somehow repairing it without any apparent cause – but when the “somehow” is divine intervention, a credulous 11-year-old from the audience is brought in to help channel godly powers, and Penn Jillette keeps up a stream of sardonic and mildly blasphemous shtick for the atheists and agnostics (and adults) in the audience.

Well, that’s when you know you’re in the presence of the gods of live performance. I’ve seen a lot of stage magic in my time (and some variation of many of the tricks here) and it’s the level of showmanship and creative comedy that makes Penn & Teller so irresistible.

Even the most basic parlour trick can be transformed into elaborate hilarity. When the duo purchases a magic kit involving a spoon and a handkerchief, for instance, they find the instruction manual written in Spanish. As an overconfident Penn mistranslates, comic mayhem erupts – bizarre visual gags for everyone; witty verbal Easter eggs for those quick and educated (or Spanish) enough to catch them.

Comedic contrast is maintained throughout – the brash, abrasive, gigantic Jillette, a cynical motormouth with lightning wit and an indestructible larynx; and the silent Teller, adorable, eccentric, gentlemanly, such a master of physical clowning he can suggest a world of mirth with a merest twitch of his mouth.

Perhaps the biggest laughs were reserved for Penn’s biting quips at the “live your dreams” mantra of Cirque du Soleil, and the much darker showmanship and charisma and misdirection behind the Trumpist brand of American nihilism.

Indeed, seeing Penn & Teller in the shadow of Trump’s inauguration makes for a fascinating contrast. Rather than prey on human weakness, these magicians use the techniques of charlatanry to expose and make us laugh at it. One eye-popping swindle is performed in their own “gift shop”, and even the few minutes of surreal performance art (as bizarre as anything Trump has ever said or done) all makes sense in a cute finale that compels the audience to rethink and reinterpret what they thought they knew.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

THEATRE | MIDSUMMA
Spark ★★★
By Ryan Henry, Theatre Works, until January 25

Thirty years old, gay, still single? Uh-oh. That’s the predicament facing Simon in Ryan Henry’s Spark, a follow-up to his lively exploration of gym bunnies and body image and the corner of gay subculture obsessed by fitness, CULT (2023).

Spark should amuse and entertain those who have struggled to find love in the digital dating world.Credit: Hannah Jennings

Romantic failure drives the action this time around. Simon’s quest for love has him back on the apps, but the man-boy can’t seem to find a plausible mate, however hard he tries. After one particularly bruising rejection (from a guy who claims to be straight to get rid of him), Simon goes to sleep - alone - and suddenly finds he’s not in Kansas any more.

He has fallen into a virtual wonderland, where his housemate (Cassidy Dunn) is transformed into the irrepressible AI guide Iris (read it backwards), who leads him on a frenetic romantic odyssey.

Time is ticking, though, and Iris will vanish once Simon’s phone battery runs out of charge. Will he keep getting waylaid by attention-sapping apps, refuse to own his emotional issues, and stay a singleton? Or learn enough about himself to find the romantic companionship he craves?

The play does have a structural problem – a dramatically superfluous reduplication involving three love interests (Joshua Gordon, Ozzy Breen-Carr, Ryan Haran) – and if the narrative arc isn’t ambitious enough to succeed as camp (it kind of slops into nauseatingly sentimental flashback, then an unconvincing stab at self-awareness) the frivolity of actors embodying dating stereotypes and caricatures of apps is imaginative and often hilarious.

The performers in Spark are all talentedCredit: Hannah Jennings

Parodic incarnations of Duolingo, Uber Eats, Candy Crush Saga and so on crowd around Simon to help and hinder him on his mission. They’re played with exaggerated gusto; and the ensemble physical theatre, comedy and choreography create an entertaining theatrical-digital fantasia that merrily skewers the ubiquitous distractions of the attention economy.

What fails to land is the “romantic rejection leading to self-acceptance” stuff.

Camp has got to go all-in – seriousness is, as Susan Sontag noted, an essential element. If you want to camp up mindfulness, you need its platitudes and mantras driven into a mind-shattering tornado of banality. A camp treatment of “Hallmark card romance”, “insta-love”, or a search for “the spark” or “the one” requires more playful subversion.

And to make Simon’s “self-actualisation” camp? Well, I’d like to have seen an ending embracing either ridiculous “success” or “failure”.

If the script needs further development, the performers are all talented, and Spark should amuse and entertain those who have struggled to find love in the digital dating world, queer or not.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

JAZZ
NoSax NoClar ★★★★★
The Jazzlab, January 22

There is nothing typical about French duo NoSax NoClar. Even their name is delightfully contrary, given that the pair play only saxophones and clarinets.

Julien Stella and Bastien Weeger of NoSax NoClarCredit: Jef Rabillon

Bastien Weeger and Julien Stella seem to revel in surprising their audiences – and perhaps surprising themselves, too. Since they established the duo six years ago, they have explored not only a myriad of musical cultures and traditions, but also the sonic possibilities of their instruments. Within a seemingly limited framework – two acoustic wind musicians in dialogue, without loops or electronic enhancements – they aim to prove that the sound world available to them is almost limitless.

There were five instruments on stage with the pair at Jazzlab on Wednesday night. Weeger alternated deftly between clarinet, alto sax and soprano sax, while Stella switched between clarinet (with a custom-built extension to expand its range) and bass clarinet.

There is nothing typical about French duo NoSax NoClar.

But were there really only five? Close your eyes – as the musicians did through most of the concert – and you’d swear you could hear the whirl of a Bulgarian kaval (end-blown flute), the plaintive cry of an Armenian duduk, or even the pulsating drone of a didgeridoo.

Stella and Weeger are experts in extended techniques, using tone, timbre and breathwork to help create these auditory illusions. But it’s their beguiling compositions that allow the audience’s mind to wander, conjuring images of faraway places that feel both familiar and faintly dreamlike.

The duo’s original repertoire is inspired by real-world folk traditions, with Balkan, Berber and Middle Eastern influences making their mark. But NoSax NoClar are inventing their own, imaginary folk music, refracted through a jazz prism and informed by the pair’s wide-open ears and restless curiosity.

On Wednesday night, they dipped into material from their three albums, each tune demonstrating the pair’s extraordinary synchronicity. They sprinted across odd-metered melodies with thrilling precision, pulsing in unison before spiralling off into separate but intertwined phrases.

Roles were fluid and constantly exchanged. Stella’s bass clarinet frequently provided a rhythmic bed, but would break off unexpectedly into a series of urgent, improvised flurries. Weeger’s alto saxophone swooped and soared (his solo introduction to Bomi was especially riveting), but could also provide a stately drone for Stella’s clarinet to glide over. And on Ellis Sisters, both players employed circular breathing and astonishingly rapid arpeggios to create a sense of continuous forward motion.

Each piece ended with a moment of silence, the players’ heads bowed and the audience hesitant to applaud, reluctant to break the spell and leave this enchantment behind.
Reviewed by Jessica Nicholas

MUSIC
Dionne Warwick | One Last Time ★★★★★
Hamer Hall, January 16

There’s a certain anticipation when you’re about to see music royalty perform live. The crowd applauds Dionne Warwick as she glides on stage in a shimmering suit with the pianist playing the melody to Walk On By.

Dionne Warwick performs at Hamer Hall on Thursday night.Credit: Martin Philbey

Greeting the audience with a warm “good evening”, she encourages them to “open up your mouths and let some words roll out” by singing along or “get on up and let it all hang loose” by dancing in their seats. This is a singer who understands her fans.

Warwick is a five-time Grammy winner, and has a Walk of Fame star and B.B. King Lifetime Achievement Award. The 84-year-old American singer is behind only Aretha Franklin as the female vocalist whose songs have spent the most weeks in the charts. This tour celebrates 50 years of hits, most of them written by long-time collaborator and composer Burt Bacharach.

With 69 of Warwick’s singles reaching the Billboard 100 over three decades, you’d be familiar with many of her classics, even if you weren’t aware she was the voice behind them. Accompanied by percussion, drums, bass and piano, she sings all the crowd favourites, including soul ballads I’ll Never Love This Way Again and a cover she recorded of What the World Needs Now Is Love, originally sung by Jackie DeShannon.

Warwick mixes things up on stage, adjusting songs to build an element of surprise for those familiar with her catalogue. In her rendition of R’n’B track I Say A Little Prayer, a song she says is dear to her heart, she extends the ending with different variations of the chorus, pausing and joking to build suspense until the final note.

Her wit is sharp as a tack. During What the World Needs Now Is Love, she asks the crowd to sing “What the world needs now, is love sweet love” three times, which they stuff up. One audience member bravely takes up the challenge and sings solo out of tune. “We have a soloist out there – the person with the microphone does the talking,” she retorts.

Remaining seated throughout the show, she eventually stands after the finale, receiving a standing ovation from the crowd. She hugs herself as if to receive the warmth of the room and waves regally as she walks offstage.
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

COMEDY | MIDSUMMA
Feeling Afraid as if Something Terrible Is Going to Happen ★★★★
Arts Centre Melbourne, until February 1

Among the cream of our Millennial comedians, gay men are common as mud. Look at Josh Thomas or Joel Creasey or Tom Ballard or Rhys Nicholson. All very gay and creamy, and although they mine their relationships for material all the time (Thomas’ last live show Let’s Tidy Up gave us a comprehensive update on his romantic life, and those with long memories will recall that he and Ballard dated for 2½ years), they do not, as a rule, write shows about killing their boyfriends, however strong the temptation.

Samuel Barnett in a scene from Feeling Afraid as If Something Terrible Is Going to Happen.Credit: Mark Gambino

In the UK, a darker comedic vein prevails. Feeling Afraid as if Something Terrible Is Going to Happen is about a troubled 36-year-old stand-up comedian – gay and relationship-averse – who falls in love with an American Mr Right against the odds. It’s undiscovered country for him, not to mention the neurotic shtick he trades on, and he soon becomes obsessed by the prospect of slaying his new partner.

Cue the slasher horror sound effect from Psycho? Or is this yet more fodder for a career built on excavating alienation … and using it to build an impregnable defence against intimacy?

Writer Marcelo Dos Santos has created a sinuous comic monodrama that drapes itself in the world of stand-up, onstage and behind the scenes. He’s written comedy for comedians – the way some novels are written for writers – exploring the architecture and philosophy of comedy through droll social observation, perverse introspection and a character who’s likeably unlikeable and a bit disturbing.

Barnett’s performance is impish and charismatic.Credit: Mark Gambino

Thinking of the show as a gay male Fleabag is not, in fact, too wide of the mark.

Samuel Barnett’s performance is impish and charismatic – a brilliantly sustained character portrait that writhes with discomfort and melancholy underneath the relentless onslaught of comic striving.

It’s impressive the way Barnett can spin on a dime, shifting through multiple characters with different accents, or ricochet from a camp running gag into an awkward, quietly heartbreaking scene in which the comedian talks to his mother in a distanced and dutiful way on the phone.

There’s a lot of deft socio-cultural observation: on American versus English worldviews and comedic styles; on the hedonism and humiliation of dating apps; on the shallow assumption, sometimes internalised, that men (and especially gay men) always want sex.

Feeling Afraid does tickle the mind more consistently than the funny bone, yet many of the jokes are tiny revolutions against received ideas, and the queer love story it contains doubles as a perfectly structured set that doesn’t feel remotely hackneyed or stale. Our own gay stand-ups will be taking notes, I’m sure.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

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