1990

Adders : A Very Venomous Revue

Sheridan Theatre, May 1990

Reviewed by Murray Bramwell

With so many theatres dark at present, the opening of a new one is a signal event. The extensive refurbishment of the Sheridan on McKinnon Parade has brought a highly idiosyncratic intimate theatre space back into use. Decked out in maroon with gilt trim, the Sheridan not only has a well-rigged acting area it has more fibreglass statuary than the Pantheon. Derek Jolly has created a decor that could prove a hard act to follow.

With its inaugural show , Adders, written and directed by Brian Bergin and featuring the return of Old Kings Godfather, Barry Egginton, the Sheridan hopes to begin a series of revue productions for local consumption. It is a brave venture and it deserves warm support. Although if Adders is the prototype then it is going to need quite a bit of tweaking if it’s going to work.

There is nothing wrong with old rope as long as you know who you are passing it out to. But Adders is so variable that it’s hard to imagine who its audience might be. The opening number, Adelaide, You’re a Lady turns on Sandi McMenamin’s icky lyrics but in its own civic satire it also misses the mark. From there it goes straight to a spoof of local TV newsreaders. One channel would have been plenty but the show insists on giving  us everything but SBS. Nothing Like a Dame, Egginton’s  impersonation of Edna Everage, serves to remind us that no-one can touch Humphries-or should even try, and the Tamie Fraser Allsorts- Amanda Cross, Lisa Gray and Joanna Jackermis’s reply to those Doug Anthony jokers – is a good idea which founders in self-consciousness.

Musical Director, Pat Wilson, accomplished as ever at the keyboard, also sets a pace no-one can match with her ballad Cholesterol. Adders could have benefited from more of her brand of pungent lyric and stylish phrase. She knows where the big arteries are and how to fang them, whereas Bergin will have a nice idea- like the front bench satire of the Baker Boys or Susan, Barbara and Annie as the Cabinettes- but then can’t, or won’t, take it anywhere.

The second half picks up with a serve at the Town Hall with The Mugwump Mikado, and Neil McKinnon and Lisa Gray hit some welcome laughs as urban yokels in Doug and Debbie Do Darwin. There are a couple attempts to get  thoughtful -Matthew Jackson’s street kid opines  I Guess I Wasn’t Ready and Egginton does a sub-Sandy Stone monologue, Everyone is Famous– but with indulgent direction, they go rancid. Pat Wilson’s Adderquette and the duet Papier Mache People on the other hand give the show the lift it needs.

But if Adders wants to get really toxic it has to do more than swipe at easy marks – TV celebs and local politicians are like the proverbial fish in a barrel. Pat Wilson’s patent form of verbal evisceration might be one direction to take , or else back to the old hoofer burlesque that Barry Egginton knows so well. Putting both in the same show, however, is like watching a snake chase its own tail.

“Fangs but No Fangs” The Adelaide Review, No.76, May 1990, pp.21-1.