Review: Spring Awakening

Spring Awakening by Frank Wedekind
B Sharp in association with The Hayloft Project


Sometimes I am just not cool enough, you know. Walking out of Spring Awakening into the cold blistering winter of Belvoir Street I had the most fantastic argument with friends.

Wine in hand, something in the other, my companions spoke.

"This is the future of theatre Nick," they said. "It's all about images. This show speaks to young people - it's fast and furious. Theatre made for the new generation."

New generation? I'm getting old.

I recall a Spring Awakening of childhood tragedy which I read years ago. Alongside was the fascinating life of writer Frank Wedekind, that southern German rebel who put it up to the conservative bourgeois wowsers who were all shocked at the SEX word.

(Sounds familiar doesn't it? Maybe turn of the century Germany and 21st Century Australia have more in common than we had imagined.)

I also recall a production I saw in Ljubljana while I was studying which had that hard dose of bdsm, leather and gothic. It was rough and tumble theatre that was very much a part of that in-yer-face tradition of the late 90's.

In Simon Stone's production however, this Spring Awakening is shaken, stirred, stripped down and pummeled so that barely anything left resembles the original. (It's amazing how popular out-of-copyright plays become isn't it?).

The majority of the skeleton that is left is just the central characters of the action. Wendla, Wendla's mother, Melchior, Moritz, Ilse, Hanschen and Ernst, as well as the adult figures who come in and out of their world.

Their presentation is certainly interesting. The opening of the play sees the seven performers cooped up into oversized chicken pens. Each of them represent a different world, a different universe almost as they deliver monologues and interact between the chicken wire. (Which is a nice idea. Friends of mine even suggested they might put some human size chicken pens in their house to increase the sexual tension.)

The second half then dispenses with the chicken pens as the performers come out into the front of the stage now all wearing white (to super-enhance the effect of the stage blood I would imagine). They mingle in the centre as they play out the final moments of what is left of poor Frank Wedekind.

But just because you have stripped a classic text down, added some smoke, some chicken pens and a few bells and whistles doesn't make it good theatre and it doesn't make it necessarily fresh.

I missed some of Wedekind's beautiful writing and even more of the original interactions. It wasn't until the very end that we finally got to see the beauty of his language through the delivery of a monologue that floored this reviewer - it was just beautiful.

But prior to this, I felt empty and a little too dazzled. This company certainly gives a big boost of youthful energy to the play, it was just the theatrical awakening that I was waiting for.


Written by Frank Wedekind Adapted and Directed by Simon Stone Starring Amanda Falson, Angus Grant, Katie-Jean Harding, Ben Hjorth, Aaron Orzech, Russ Pirie and Edwina Wren Set Design Adam Gardnir Costume Designer Mel Page Lighting Designer Niklas Pajanti Sound Design Hamish Michael Produced by Nell Ranney


Until 13 July
Downstairs Theatre Belvoir Street
$23-29
http://www.belvoir.com.au/320_whatson_downstairs.php?production_id=214