You probably won’t see Miss Saigon performed better than this – but it leaves a bitter aftertaste

This wrap of shows around Melbourne includes Opera Australia’s production of Miss Saigon, a much-loved play given a new musical spin, a Halloween gig by Sam Smith, a moving work that combines theatre and dance, and an exceptional performance by pianist Andrey Gugnin.

MUSICAL
Miss Saigon ★★★
Opera Australia, Her Majesty’s Theatre, Now Showing

Miss Saigon has been a lightning rod for controversy since it premiered in the late 1980s. Much has changed since then (it’s no longer okay for performers to wear prosthetics to look more Asian, obviously) but the show’s Orientalist tropes and negative racial stereotyping make you wonder: Can it still be enjoyed? Well, it’s certainly an uncomfortable experience, even with stellar vocals, a hugely talented cast, and the lavish production values of this Opera Australia revival.

Miss Saigon has been a lightning rod for controversy since it premiered in the late 1980s.Credit: Danie Boud

Recent blockbusters celebrating diversity, such as Hamilton or & Juliet, make a difference but they can’t disguise a depressingly long history of racism in musical theatre. And we’re not just talking Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado or Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific, either. The shadow of racism still stalks 21st-century stages. Post-Miss Saigon lowlights include a Filipina bride giving a ping-pong show in Priscilla and US veterans of Iraq fantasising over a voiceless Middle Eastern dream girl in Green Day’s American Idiot.

Granted, Miss Saigon is a Vietnam War-era adaptation of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly – close to the peak of Orientalism in opera. No one expects it to be woke, but nor can you quite prepare for the way it rubs your face in cultural imperialism, white saviour tropes, or the sexual objectification of Asian women.

Irritatingly, the show’s tragic heroine Kim (Abigail Adriano) is both virgin and whore, giving US sergeant Chris (Nigel Huckle) an excuse to pay for sex with her and feel like a white knight into the bargain. After a brief, hastily telegraphed romance, he fails to help her escape at the fall of Saigon, leaving her prey to the murderous Communist Thuy (Laurence Mossman), to whom she has been promised in an arranged marriage.

Laurence Mossman as Thuy in Miss Saigon.Credit: Daniel Boud

The portrayal of Asia itself is cynical and unflattering, with the action taking place in two separate fleshpots for white sex tourists, either side of a pageant of Communist Vietnam – complete with ribbon dancing and flag waving under a gigantic effigy of Ho Chi Minh – in which characters are marched off to re-education camps at gunpoint.

Asian men fare no better. Thuy embodies violent patriarchy, and The Engineer is a rapacious queer pimp obsessed by migrating to the US. As the latter, Seann Miley Moore invests every ounce of their charisma into a dynamic, lurid caricature with satirical force – including in a grotesque parody of Broadway glitz called The American Dream. Putting amoral capitalist ideology into the mouth of an Asian character excluded from the West seems like a psychological deflection, though there’s a tragic edge to knowing that the America loved by the Engineer doesn’t love him back.

As for the central love triangle? Adriano and Huckle both sing magnificently – no shade on either of them – but the doomed romance is so undeveloped compared to the source material that it’s hard to get emotionally invested.

The emergence of a self-involved, white saviour narrative in the second act, and the cowardly treatment of Kim, also leach sympathy from all the US characters involved. And unlike Puccini’s opera, there’s no sublime aria as a prelude to suicide.

Seann Miley Moore invests every ounce of their charisma into a dynamic, lurid caricature with satirical force.Credit: Daniel Boud

You probably won’t see Miss Saigon performed better than this, and it’s worth going if you’re a musical theatre fan.

But the show leaves a bitter aftertaste, and you may need a palate cleanser with a more empowering view of Asian women. Something from local writers such as Jean Tong or Michelle Law. Or perhaps US playwright Kimber Lee’s untitled f*ck m*ss s**gon play, an enraged parody of racism onstage and onscreen that enjoyed success in London and New York this year. Something like that.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

THEATRE
Orlando ★★★
Rachel Lewindon and Willow Sizer, Antipodes Theatre, 45downstairs, until November 11

Virginia Woolf’s Orlando is many things – among them a satire of English literature and a love letter to her paramour Vita Sackville-West – but it’s the gender-fluid play that still teases the imagination almost a century after it was written.

Antipodes Theatre has put a new spin on Virgina Woolf’s Orlando.Credit: Angel Leggas

Theatre is no stranger to gender-bending, and notable stage adaptations of Woolf’s novel include the magnificent version presented by The Rabble at the 2012 Melbourne Festival. It’s fascinating to see the change of emphasis in this Orlando from Antipodes Theatre, a decade on.

The first point of difference is stylistic. Performing Orlando as musical theatre makes creative sense. Despite labelling itself “a biography”, the text wafts rhapsodically through time and place, and an electro-folk score lends ethereal continuity to Woolf’s whimsical, episodic structure.

The social politics of this Orlando have shifted decisively into the present.Credit: Angel Leggas

The second shift incorporates a much broader and more inclusive critique of race, gender, and class. Orlando may be a poet who lives for centuries and undergoes a mysterious change from man to woman, but at the novel’s opening, he’s also happily imagining slashing open the head of a Moor, as his father and grandfather before him.

In no way do white folk get to ignore that little detail this time.

Virginia Woolf could also be a colossal snob. This musical lightly caricatures the aristocratic milieu of Orlando and prevents it from consuming all the oxygen in the room through the sardonic commentary of servants.

And although it incorporates binary gender conflict and inequality, this production emphasises the androgynous, the epicene, and trans or gender-nonconforming perspectives. That’s a better fit for the protagonist, whose identity and personality remain unchanged by gender transition.

Major episodes from the novel spring to life. Some are patterned by melancholy, as with Kikki Temple’s Archduchess Harriet, who is rejected by Orlando, despite her dignity and enigmatic allure.

Others are a fount of flamboyant comedy. Manali Datar gives a marvellously heightened lampoon of male envy and pomposity in her portrayal of literary critic Nicholas Greene, and she digitally updates the brusque Russian princess Sasha – who fiddles with her mobile, takes selfies, and bops along to her private playlist as a chorus of Orlandos tries to woo her.

Both exposition and the score taper off and the show does feel incomplete, as if the artists ran out of time in the race from the Elizabethan age to modernity. As a result, this Orlando might confuse those unfamiliar with the novel.

It’s still an intriguing and immersive experience. The songs are full of appealing harmonies, referencing styles from early modern music and 18th-century folk ballad. And the ensemble handles the flow of music and dramatic action effortlessly.

This social politics of this Orlando have shifted decisively into the present, and with some decorative interludes pruned, there’d be room to expand the temporal scope of the music, and the drama, to match them.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

MUSIC
Sam Smith | Gloria the Tour ★★★★
Rod Laver Arena, October 31

On All Hallow’s Eve, saints and sinners across Melbourne joined Sam Smith at Rod Laver Arena for their Gloria the Tour concert. Prior to the show, the singer had encouraged their followers to lean into the Halloween theme, and attendees didn’t hold back. Devil-inspired costumes stood out in the crowd and free red light-up horns were handed out by venue staff.

Sam Smith encouraged the Rod Laver Arena crowd to feel free.Credit: Rick Clifford

A chorus of cheers erupted as the singer, dressed in a white shirt, bustier, gold pants and glittery platform boots, rose from beneath a golden statue of a sleeping giant.

Smith kicked things off with a rendition of Stay With Me, their crystal-clear signature live vocals perfectly hitting the range from baritone to tenor, accompanied by uplifting harmonies that felt like listening to a church choir.

We’re greeted with a markedly evolved artist since their 2018 tour, reflected both musically and in their wardrobe selections. Choices included a seemingly Frank-N-Furter-inspired black and silver tassels, g-string and fishnets number. While wearing a white and glittery Cinderellaesque ball gown, they remarked: “Do you like my dress? Thank you, it’s really f----ing heavy”.

Separated into three distinct parts – “Love”, “Beauty” and “Sex” – the show’s voice-over explanations felt superfluous as the visual cues and sartorial changes created clear enough tonal shifts. Brief performance interludes by back-up dancers — Smith would often join in the choreography — ensured a seamless changeover between outfits.

Sam Smith created a genuine connection with the crowd.Credit: Rick Clifford

The show started in a wholesome manner, with soulful hits including I’m Not the Only One, before turning into an electronic and disco dance floor with collaborative tracks Latch with Disclosure, Dancing with a Stranger with Normani and Promises with Calvin Harris.

The finale descended into complete debauchery, as Smith appeared as a demonic figure with glowing green eyes and a glittery red pitchfork, preparing for a saucy performance of Grammy award-winning track Unholy. They also performed Gimme, Gloria and Des’ree cover Kissing You off the Gloria album.

Throughout the performance Smith smiled warmly, waved and blew kisses, creating a genuine connection with the crowd and a safe space for people to be themselves. They delivered heartfelt thoughts, stating the show was about “love, and it’s about friendship and about family” but ultimately about “freedom”. They encouraged audience members to “take your tops off if you want, I do” in a demonstration of body positivity.

This tour gives Smith the opportunity to shed societal expectations, unequivocally coming into their own, showcasing the performer and person they were always meant to be.
Reviewed by Vyshnavee Wijekumar

DANCE THEATRE
Weredingo ★★★★
Karul Projects, Arts House, until November 4

Weredingo welcomes us into a shapeshifter support group. An upbeat facilitator invites audiences to have tea and bikkies as we enter, to pick up an animal mask and divulge our favourite form. This will be a safe space – or so we’re told – where shifters can connect with each other, share experiences, and transform without fear.

This First Nations dance theatre piece is itself a supple and shifting thing, with intricate dramaturgy spanning monologue, visual theatre and contemporary dance, and the performers (Thomas E.S. Kelly, Benjin Maza, Glory Tuohy-Daniell) are true were-creatures. Rather than emphasise dance or theatre – as many hybrid works of this kind do – here the two modes are complementary, two forms merging in a single body.

Shapeshifting is no simple metaphor for Indigeneity, and the idea is used to explore a haunting range of cultural resonances. On one hand, it is deeply embedded in First Nations’ spirituality and connection to Country, movingly invoked through a Dreaming story in which an ancestor being is transfigured into geographical features.

The other side is the constant shifting required to navigate life in colonial-settler culture, in the wake of massacres and dispossession, racist ideology and a legacy of disadvantage that continues today.

Weredingo welcomes us into a shapeshifter support group.Credit: Tiffany Garvie

One shifter first transforms into ants between a McDonald’s car park and a 7-Eleven, in a magical realist story that invokes the shadow of violent discrimination. Another is late for the meeting, fighting against faceless trauma.

Unfortunately, the facilitator (Vicki Van Hout) seems tone-deaf to the shapeshifters’ lived experience. Naff animal jokes, comments that ignore the toxic racial hierarchy used to rationalise acts of genocide against Aboriginal people … Who is she really? And are good intentions enough to avoid doing harm to those she wants to assist?

Kelly’s choreography unites elements inspired by First Nations traditions with a highly kinetic, tightly synchronised contemporary style.

It sometimes takes animal locomotion as a template, but draws most of its emotional charge from an abstract movement language that tests and struggles against human bodily limits.

Weredingo seamlessly blends theatre and dance.Credit: Tiffany Garvie

The performance is created within a visual shadow-world. Between Chloe Ogilvie’s lighting, projections from Wirrim Studios, and Studio Gilay’s bespoke animations, the piece shifts like a dream from eerie avant-garde ritual to menageries of native animals, from a laid-back support-group atmosphere to scenes of acute menace.

Weredingo skimps neither on harsh reality nor transcendent possibility; not on humour, nor on pain. It’s a sobering, heartening show to witness in the wake of the recent referendum defeat. But then, cultural realms are wider than constitutional ones, and there should always be time to listen to Indigenous voices making new work as vital as this.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead

MUSIC
Andrey Gugnin ★★★★
Melbourne Recital Centre, November 1

Returning to Australia after winning the 2016 Sydney International Piano Competition, Moscow-born Andrey Gugnin presented his dazzling pianistic credentials to a small but appreciative audience in an unusual but effective program.

Concert pianist Andrey Gugnin.Credit: Soris Scitar

Grieg’s rarely heard Ballade Op. 24 began with nostalgic introspection; its 14 variations on a Norwegian folk song unfolding as sepia-tinged memories that slowly took on more light and vibrancy as the work progressed, before returning to a glowing restatement of the opening.

Excerpts from Tchaikovsky’s evergreen Nutcracker Suite, arranged by Russian pianist Mikhail Pletnev, were animated with abundant energy and thoughtfully variegated timbre, bringing to life the various familiar scenes from the ballet. In particular, the successive sections of the final Pas de deux were beautifully contrasted.

Gugnin gave a brilliantly committed account of Carl Vine’s Piano Sonata No. 2. Dating from 1997, this substantial document in the Australian piano repertory was originally conceived for Michael Kieran Harvey. Gugnin certainly channelled the dedicatee’s lively personality, bringing out the influences of Liszt and Debussy in the first movement and then digging into the spiky jazz riffs of the second before returning to impressionist mode in the score’s final pages.

A perfect contrast, the delicate dreamworld of Valentin Silvestrov’s Three Bagatelles, Op. 1 saw Gugnin exercise extraordinary tonal control in its hushed, often barely audible utterances.

Three movements from Stravinsky’s ballet The Firebird, arranged by Italian pianist Guido Agosti, brought vibrant colour and abundant pyrotechnics to the end of the concert. Flashing with fire, the Infernal Dance gave way to a hypnotic Lullaby, while the Finale grew into a fervently delivered outpouring of joy and wonder.

While Gugnin’s program did not lack opportunities for the sorts of technical display expected in a competition, it also revealed an artist adept at putting his considerable technique at the service of musical poetry.
Reviewed by Tony Way

The Booklist is a weekly newsletter for book lovers from books editor Jason Steger. Get it every Friday.