Source: RealTime
Author: John Bailey
Date: August 2006
"Made from life, sculptured from junk"
Suitcase Royale bill themselves
as “junkyard theatre”, scouring the scrapheap and assembling sets
and props from the refuse of industrial society. The centrepiece of their
most recent work, Chronicles of a Sleepless Moon, is an upended, tricked-up
wardrobe jerry-rigged with trapdoors, lamps, cow-horned steering console and
all manner of oddments. The rest of the stage is littered with debris, each
item slowly revealed as essential to the narrative though rarely employed
for its original intended purpose. It’s fitting, then, that the work
delves into the sludge of discarded performance modes and generic forms to
cook up a narrative gumbo. B-grade horror, science fiction, outback tall tales,
murder ballads, pulp mysteries and slapstick are thrown into the mix. The
result is a tale of a journey beneath the earth in a “cow submersible”,
a machine powered by bovine blood and piloted by a mad scientist and his strange
crew.
The protagonist is a reporter known only as Newsman, who through fate and
circumstance finds himself joining the mad Doctor on his quest to map the
world beneath the Earth’s surface. Also pressed into service is the
towering, bearded figure of the Butcher, a proudly homicidal figure who punctuates
his sentences with a barked “DEAD!” while slamming his chopping
knife into a nearby object. The story, meandering and shaggy, is matched by
constant switching from live action to puppetry, miniatures, animation, film
and radio recordings. This doesn’t have the slick, commodified “channel
surfing” effect of fragmented texts subscribing to the MTV-aesthetic;
nor does it reproduce the alienating effect of stagings which juxtapose competing
media in a coldly calculated way. There’s a homespun, organic feel to
Chronicle’s bricolage, a localised ambience not simply due to the relocation
of diverse generic conventions into an outback setting. It helps that the
performance I attended was in a tiny theatre above a Fitzroy bar, trundling
trams audible as they passed, and the occasional tipsy holler filtering up
the stairs.
The performers, Joseph O’Farrell, Miles O’Neil and Glen Walton,
possess a vitality that ensures proceedings rattle on at a terrific pace.
They pack more into an hour or so than many shows manage at twice the length
without overloading their audience’s senses. The balance of light and
shade is admirable, the Butcher offering a believably lethal counterpoint
to the Doctor’s laughably impotent dreamer and the Newsman’s cynical
outsider. At times, the trio’s relative youthfulness oversteps itself
through rushed or garbled dialogue, but this rarely staggers the show’s
impact since it never seems at odds with the loose, cobbled-together style
of the narrative itself. Theatre of this kind is messy and disjointed, but
The Suitcase Royale have chosen not to conceal this by attempting to offer
the image of a slick, seamless product devoid of cracks.
The Suitcase Royale don’t seem to do things the way they do just because
pastiche is popular, or cool, or even original. It’s merely the only
proper way to express a tale as ingenious as its creators, as inventive as
their tools and as enjoyable as stumbling through a crack in the fence to
find yourself in a junkyard paradise.
Source: The Age
Author: Cameron Woodhead
Date: June 2006
Chronicles of a Sleepless
Moon
The Suitcase Royale
The Black Lung Theatre, Upstairs 201 Smith St. Fitzroy
Until Jue 17
Running Time 45 minutes
The Suitcase Royale has created a unique style of theatre, dubbed Junkyard Theatre, and their latest show is one of the most exciting things I’ve seen all year. Originally devised for the Next Wave festival, Chronicles of a Sleepless Moon is a wacky and endearing tale powered b the sort of impish absurdism you might find in the best children’s literature.
It concerns three characters – The Butcher, The Doctor and The Newsman – brought together by a mysterious mass slaughter of cows I the district. The Cows, it traspires, are beig sacrificed to the greater glor of sciece, as the nefarious Doctor and his Butcher friend attempt to go where no man has gone before, while the Newsman tags along to get a scoop worthy of the Weekly World News
The plot sparkles with the bizarre logic of dreams, but it is the manner in which this dream world is evoked that most impresses. Here we have a vision as grand and totalizing as it is quirky – an alternate universe, comparable to the films of Jaunet and Caro (Delicatessen, City of Lost Children), that lays seige to your imagination.
And the generals in charge of the assault – Miles O’Neil, Glen Walton, and Joseph O’Farrell – have many theatrical weapons at their disposal. Sure they are gifted comic actors, with impeccable timing and talent for physical comedy. But how many of those can also claim to be accomplished musicians, brilliant set and sound designers, and slick directors?
Of special interest is the set – those involved in theatrical design should attend and take otes. At first glace, it IS a junkyard, but every single piece of trash hides a weird surprise. The show is enlivened by a gamut of visual techniques: strange set transformations, hand held lighting, puppetry, miniature models and shadowplay, to name a few.
With its pace and humour, and its synergies of sight and sound, this is an ingenious and engrossing show. Its creators are obscenely talented, and deserve the international success that looks like coming their way.
Source: REALTIME
Author: John Bailey
Date: August/ Septemer 2006
'Made from life, sculpted
from junk'
Suitcase Royale bill themselves as “junkyard theatre”, scouring
the scrapheap and assembling sets and props from the refuse of industrial
society. The centrepiece of their most recent work, Chronicles of a Sleepless
Moon, is an upended, tricked-up wardrobe jerry-rigged with trapdoors, lamps,
cow-horned steering console and all manner of oddments. The rest of the stage
is littered with debris, each item slowly revealed as essential to the narrative
though rarely employed for its original intended purpose. It’s fitting,
then, that the work delves into the sludge of discarded performance modes
and generic forms to cook up a narrative gumbo. B-grade horror, science fiction,
outback tall tales, murder ballads, pulp mysteries and slapstick are thrown
into the mix. The result is a tale of a journey beneath the earth in a “cow
submersible”, a machine powered by bovine blood and piloted by a mad
scientist and his strange crew.
The protagonist is a reporter known only as Newsman, who through fate and
circumstance finds himself joining the mad Doctor on his quest to map the
world beneath the Earth’s surface. Also pressed into service is the
towering, bearded figure of the Butcher, a proudly homicidal figure who punctuates
his sentences with a barked “DEAD!” while slamming his chopping
knife into a nearby object. The story, meandering and shaggy, is matched by
constant switching from live action to puppetry, miniatures, animation, film
and radio recordings. This doesn’t have the slick, commodified “channel
surfing” effect of fragmented texts subscribing to the MTV-aesthetic;
nor does it reproduce the alienating effect of stagings which juxtapose competing
media in a coldly calculated way. There’s a homespun, organic feel to
Chronicle’s bricolage, a localised ambience not simply due to the relocation
of diverse generic conventions into an outback setting. It helps that the
performance I attended was in a tiny theatre above a Fitzroy bar, trundling
trams audible as they passed, and the occasional tipsy holler filtering up
the stairs.
The performers, Joseph O’Farrell, Miles O’Neil and Glen Walton,
possess a vitality that ensures proceedings rattle on at a terrific pace.
They pack more into an hour or so than many shows manage at twice the length
without overloading their audience’s senses. The balance of light and
shade is admirable, the Butcher offering a believably lethal counterpoint
to the Doctor’s laughably impotent dreamer and the Newsman’s cynical
outsider. At times, the trio’s relative youthfulness oversteps itself
through rushed or garbled dialogue, but this rarely staggers the show’s
impact since it never seems at odds with the loose, cobbled-together style
of the narrative itself. Theatre of this kind is messy and disjointed, but
The Suitcase Royale have chosen not to conceal this by attempting to offer
the image of a slick, seamless product devoid of cracks.
The Suitcase Royale don’t seem to do things the way they do just because
pastiche is popular, or cool, or even original. It’s merely the only
proper way to express a tale as ingenious as its creators, as inventive as
their tools and as enjoyable as stumbling through a crack in the fence to
find yourself in a junkyard paradise.
Source: The Age
Author: John Bailey
Date: June 15 2006
“Madcap mayhem is top of the props”
If necessity is the mother of invention, she must be a very proud parent indeed. Chronicles of a Sleepless Moon is a disarminly inventive new work that turns a cramped Fitzroy stage into a world of revitalised objects. If Dr. Frankenstein had lent his skills to the performing arts, this is what might have resulted.
The Suitcase Royale are a trio that produces Junkyard Theatre, fashioning sets, costumes and technical equipment from anything at hand. Their stories combine live performance with mime, song, puppetry, film and much more. And though I didn’t spot a kitchen sink in Chronicles I’m sure one was involved.
The show tells the shaggy dog tale of a mad outback doctor’s quest to build a bizzare submersible vehicle, which runs on cow’s blood, and will allow him to map the world beneath the earth’s surface. Along for the ride are a double-dealing newsman and a bloody and murderous butcher; betrayal is in the works and with bovine blood in short supply, not everyone will be making it back topside. The fourth performer is clearly the set, a painstakingly built maze of trapdoors, shadowboxes, projectors, instruments and found objects. An upended wardrobe becomes a laboratory or a ubmarine; a deconstructed bicycle is reinvented as a spinning knife grinder.
The piece is played hysterically, in every sense. It’s laugh-out-loud funny, but also maniacally over-acted, the newman spitting out whip crack lines, the doctor a mess of tics and screamed scheming, the butcher expressing himself through the constant thud of his cleaver into any surface available. The relative youth of the players is sometimes evident in the anarchic rush of the piece, lines occasionally lost or the story hard to follow, but this suits the ramshackle aesthetic behind the production.
The Suitcase Royale have produced
a tighter show than its predecessor Felix Listens to the World, and Chronicles
bodes well for the future of these remarkably clever lads.
Source: Theatre Notes
Author: Alison Croggon
Date: Sunday, June 11, 2006
Chronicles of the Sleepless Moon written, devised and performed by Joseph O'Farrell, Miles O'Neil and Glen Walton. The Suitcase Royale @ The Black Lung Theatre, Kent St Bar, 201 Smith St, Collingwood, until June 17.
Are we in the throes of a theatre renaissance? I was saying so to a friend just last week, and bingo! there in yesterday's Australian is an analysis of Melbourne's theatre revival, which claims that after a bleak sojourn in the Slough of Despond all through the '90s, theatre in Melbourne now has new vim in its step and light in its eyes as it marches onwards to the Celestial City. So it must be true.
Corrie Perkin's article is on the money, citing the Malthouse Theatre and a vibrant Victorian College of the Arts as particular catalysts for nurturing a feisty new generation of independent theatre artists. The success of the Malthouse bears out my hopes early last year that the radical shift in philosophy there was "the best thing that's happened there in the past decade; and ... the beginning of a more generous imagining of the Australian stage". Without any doubt, by plugging into a richly diverse and vital independent scene, the Malthouse has legitimised and often realised approaches to theatre that were previously marginalised as "fringe".
Such nurturing depends, however, on having something to nurture. Maybe the most significant sign that something truly is sparking here is the theatrical liveliness off the main stages, in tiny venues above funky little bars and pubs in the inner city. If you have an idle evening or two next week, you could do a lot worse than to wander down to Fitzroy and see Chronicles of the Sleepless Moon, the second offering from the young auteurs of The Suitcase Royale, or drop into Dante's and spend an hour being wickedly entertained by the wits of Vaudeville X. In both cases, it might be advisable to book.
Chronicles of the Sleepless Moon extends the "junkyard theatre" The Suitcase Royale developed in their first show, Felix Listens to the World. Perhaps the major character of the show is the set itself. It's an artfully artless clutter of discarded objects (they include a typewriter, an old film projector, a toy piano, bits of bedsteads, ear phones, lamps, switches, cardboard boxes) which are ingeniously manipulated and transformed to illustrate the narrative.
It can't be said that the story - like Felix Listens to the World, a fairytale of sorts - makes a lot of sense (perhaps it makes an uncommon sense, since it is, in the proper sense of the term, absurd). It must be a real play, though, because it is in three Acts. Set in outback Australia, it concerns a maniacal Butcher who has just murdered his wife, a Doctor possessed with a vision to map the Underground with his engine fuelled by the blood of cows, and the Newsman who seeks to expose them both and scoop the world.
A collision of melodrama, surreal comedy, theatrical ingenuity and Tom Waits-style folk/blues, Chronicles is a high-spirited pisstake on any number of Australian cliches - the outback pub, the hard-bitten newsman, the homoerotic relationships of lonely men. It's like Wake In Fright on acid. We find out that Suitcase Royale are also pretty hot musicians - a highlight is the ballad about Sheila, the Butcher's wife, in which he laments that "if I hadn't killed you, you'd still be here". And it's also a love story of sorts; the Butcher holds a candle for the Doctor, who rejects his tremulous advances.
The humour is black and pitiless, but the show somehow retains a poignant sense of humanity. How can you dislike three madmen when they are po-facedly eating pickled onions in front of you? (I wish I could describe how funny this scene is). And there is a strange innocence in all these characters, a sense that their various lunatic idealisms are attempts to transcend a grinding emptiness within their existence. As in Buchner's Woyczek, the earth beneath them is hollow. One could probably excavate from this anarchic narrative a bleak subtext about Australia's vision of itself, and of the loneliness and yearning of masculinity; but it might hang a little heavily on a show which is really a riff of ingenious jokes.
The three performers use almost every device of animation - banraku puppetry, animated projections, shadow puppets - as well as highly stylised performance, a rich recorded soundscape and live music to tell their story. Part of the delight of this show is the intricate minature models, painstakingly crafted out of cardboard or other junk, of houses or pubs. The performers are enchanted by the world of objects, and their enchantment is infectious.
Worth mentioning too is the theatre in which they perform - the Black Lung Theatre, which opened in April this year above the Kent St Bar in Smith St. Co-directed by Thomas Wright and Thomas Henning, it specifically seeks to host experimental and devised theatre. It's a friendly, comfortable space, and you can smoke downstairs in the cosy bar. I liked it a lot.
Read comments on this article here
Source: Broadwaybaby.com
Author: Bruce Kent
Date: August 2007
***** (Five Stars)
Jules Verne meets The League of Gentlemen in this comic book of macabre characters
come to life.
Join the hilariously grotesque world of our hero “The Newsman”,
a bloodthirsty butcher and an extremely mad doctor in this subterranean adventure.
It opens beautifully in the style of a Tim Burton animation with actors looking
like they have just stepped out of a Boy’s Own adventure of the 1900’s.
The ingenious set, clever use of lighting and blue grass sound transports
us to a sinister and isolated backwater.
Endlessly enjoyable attention to detail and cunningly clever humour makes
this a show not to be missed.
I’ve never seen anything quite like this before. Let them surprise you.
Source: the Scotsman
Author: Anna Millar
Date: August 2007
**** (Four Stars)
EVERY once in a while a Fringe show has the power to beguile its audience
with the sheer breadth of its originality. Housed in the already inspired
venue of the Bosco Theatre in the Spiegel Garden, Chronicles of a Sleepless
Moon does just that.
Not for nothing has this darkly whimsical tale been described as "Wallace
and Gromit meets David Lynch", as ridiculously daft as it is darkly macabre.
The brainchild of Melbourne collective, Suitcase Royal, the show begins in
what looks like an old junkyard but quickly emerges as one of the most innovative
set pieces on this year's Fringe. Inspired by an Edwardian-style melodrama,
sepia tinted boxes and barely-there lightbulbs transform themselves into key
players in a narrative, which sees an upended wardrobe become a submarine
and a knackered bicycle wheel become a spinning knife-grinder.
Set in the Aussie outback during its pioneer days, the devilishly daft plot
revolves around a sinister doctor who engages the help of the local sociopath
butcher to fuel his underground tunnelling device, which runs on cow's blood,
and will allow him to map the world beneath the earth's surface. Seeing red,
a double-dealing newsman comes along for the ride in the hope of getting a
scoop for the local rag.
Not so much a plot as an excuse to combine cutting-edge live performance with
mime, song, puppetry and film, the actors present the piece with the skill
of old school vaudeville players and circus clowns of year's gone by, while
borrowing too from the Farrelly and Coen brothers.
Joseph O'Farrell, Miles O'Neill and Glen Walton are superb as the trio in
question and indeed the only criticism is that for all its fantastical Frankenstein
meets Hammer Horror sensibilities, it does occasionally get caught up in its
own flights of whimsy and meanders off course. That aside, a witty set-to
or manmade sound effect later and all is forgiven.
Source: ThreeWeeks
Author: Laura Oliver
Date: August 2007
ThreeWeeks rating 4/5
Presented on a cluttered, dimly lit stage, a performance of such atmospheric
proportions is barely imaginable. This is Tim Burton and 'The League Of Gentlemen'
rolled into one, and sent to Australia. A dark fairytale emerges from the
curiosities on stage, each with a role to play in the story-telling. Lamps
evoke the moon; a wardrobe is both a bar and a mysterious subterranean machine.
There seems to be no limit to the imagination of the performers, who are responsible
for everything in the show: props, music, sound effects, and lighting. Their
self-sufficiency is all part of the spectacle and even their occasional blunders
are incorporated into the show's ramshackle charm. For an hour of pure escapism,
let Suitcase Royale transport you.
Source: Edfringe.com
Author: Various Punter Reviews (the good and bad)
Date: August 2007
Concentrate! 28 Aug 2007 reviewer: Adrian Tupper, United Kingdom
The three actors had a novel set, made of junk. All of it was used at some time during the show including a 1960s cine projector. The main prop was a large box which represented the underground craft which "the doctor" made and was fuelled with blood from cows, which is where "the butcher" comes in. The two take "the newsman" with them but he only wants a story. It was billed as "family friendly" and my 7 year old son certainly enjoyed it. A couple of minor swear words are unlikely to offend many these days. The delivery is sharp and well-timed. The dialogue is often formed from short sentences back up with gestures and movements. I know actors do sometimes forget their lines and that props collapse, but I got the impression this lot were doing it deliberately for their own amusement rather than ours. The show didn't need any additional slapstick. The script was good enough to see it through. The dark setting was well conveyed and the musical interludes were totally surreal. And we could also have done without their "friends" laughing loudly from the back of the seating. Too many shows do this and frankly it insults the audience's intelligence.
NB: Thanks Matt and Richard! We appreciated the laughter – the SR
Quirky & accessible 27 Aug 2007
reviewer: Murray, United Kingdom
A magical little piece, which bar a tiny bit of swearing is ideal for both children and adults alike
24 Aug 2007 reviewer: james mcintyre, United
Kingdom
i guess it was just shit like
Huh? 24 Aug 2007 reviewer: Kenneth M, United States
I guess I just didn't get it. The actors seem very creative, but the whole
thing seemed senseless and scattered.
21 Aug 2007 reviewer: Thierry , United Kingdom
A fantastic show. Very funny and visually dazzling. A cross between Tex Avery
and Wallace & Gromit but with real people. Very good music too. The best
show I have seen this year at the Festival.
Stunning 21 Aug 2007 reviewer: David Kettle, United Kingdom
I was blown away by this. From the amazing set to the weird voices and mannerisms
to the ludicrous story - I was open-mouthed from start to finish. The attention
to detail is amazing, in the countless props and the comic-book characterisations,
and the whole junkyard feeling gives it a unique atmosphere. The beautiful
venue only adds to its charm. Go and see it while you can - it's a unique
experience you'll find hard to equal elsewhere.
20 Aug 2007 reviewer: Jeanne Whalen, United States
Visually stunning -- the set, lighting and movement of the play were truly
original. I didn't find the humor as funny as most others in the audience
seemed to, but then I never much liked League of Gentlemen, either. Worth
seeing but not my favorite show at the fringe this year.
Delightfully daft 19 Aug 2007 reviewer: Helen, Bristol, United Kingdom
Definitely what the Fringe is all about - totally out of the box theatre,
very silly and a laugh a minute - for a minute. One of the highlights of the
Fringe for me - highly recommended.
Best thing at the Fringe 10 Aug 2007 reviewer: Clare & Gareth, United
Kingdom
If you go and see one show at the Fringe, make it this one. A masterclass
in storytelling, performance and innovative staging and direction. Moody lighting,
endlessly inventive props, and the atmospheric music all add to the overall
effect. Breathtaking. Many of the reviews of this show claim descent from
The League of Gentlemen - if that show is not to your taste, please, please,
don't let it put you off: these three gentlemen are in a league of their own.
ENCHANTING! 08 Aug 2007 reviewer: Brian Tipton, United States
You shouldn't miss this unique and very funny (but dark) play. It was so wonderfully
creative. I imagine it will go on to bigger things. Out of all the plays I've
seen this was the best. But sit as close as possible since it is all performed
in miniture...you'll understand when you see. This was so delightful. Don't
miss.
Unlike ANYTHING else... 08 Aug 2007 reviewer: Paul, United Kingdom
...and isn't that what the Fringe is about? Extraordinary, daft, dark, warped,
funny, bizarre, charming... impossible not to enjoy. See it.
something quirky and fun 06 Aug 2007 reviewer: Hel & Kev, United Kingdom
We went to see this show with no preconceptions and no real idea as to what
it was about. Suitcase Royale drew you into surreal, suspensful, subterranian
delight. It was physically challenging for them and performed with panache
by three guys who were not only talented actors but accomplished musicians
too. A must see.
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