Lord of the Flies review | Melbourne Fringe Festival | Theatre Works

A group of boys crash-land on an island with no adults around, leaving them to establish their own rules, leadership and hierarchy. It doesn't take long for those structures to start falling apart. Steven Mitchell Wright's production of William Golding's Lord of the Flies follows the familiar story, from the struggle between Ralph and Jack to the growing fear of the beast and the group's descent into violence.

There are different expressions of masculinity at play here with Ralph and Jack become increasingly locked in a contest for authority, driven by competition, intimidation and the desire to command. Simon offers a more gentle alternative, while aggressive behaviour demonstrates how quickly strength and dominance become measures of status. Survival of the fittest is not simply practical, but something the boys perform for the group.

An impossible to-do list puts Rebekah Carton to the test in Everything, Now! at Melbourne Fringe

How much can one person possibly get done in an hour? In Everything, Now!, the answer is apparently: everything. Created and performed by award-winning theatre maker Rebekah Carton and directed by George Lazaris, the new work throws Carton into a relentless sixty-minute race against the clock, armed with an impossible list of tasks and increasingly little chance of getting through them all. As interruptions pile up and priorities constantly shift, the carefully constructed system begins to unravel, turning everyday busyness into something far more physical, chaotic and absurd. We managed to pin Carton and Lazaris down to ask how they came up with such an ambitious task list, and whether anyone can really do it all.
 
Tell us about Everything, Now! What exactly is going on?
George Lazaris: Everything!
Rebekah Carton: Right now! 
GL: I feel overwhelmed just thinking about it.
RC: It’s almost like I’m doing every task on my list-
GL: That’s ever been on your list.
RC: Everything that anybody’s ever asked of me and I’ll be like "I’ll do that later. I’ll do it in a little bit.:"
GL: Today’s the day.
RC: Right now. In front of an audience. At Fringe.

Fu@k! I Killed The Director plunges two actors into total chaos at Melbourne Fringe

What do you do when you kill your director on opening night? If you’re the two actors at the centre of FU@K! I KILLED THE DIRECTOR, apparently, you carry on with the production. Blending clowning, mime, dance and a does of chaos, the new work from Alright? Production Company throws two desperate performers into the aftermath of a very unfortunate accident, as they attempt to keep their adaptation of Romeo & Juliet alive while facing the small matter of their dead director. Created by Nina Hopley, Alana Louise and Jason Schwab and performed by Louise and Schwab, the 50-minute farce promises an anarchic, physical and distinctly unpredictable Fringe experience.

The piece takes a pretty spectacular theatrical disaster and turns it into a celebration of play, silliness and letting go. "Two actors, Cherry and John, are about to debut their rendition of Romeo & Juliet. But moments before the curtain goes up, they accidentally kill their director. Covered in blood and reeling from the shock of the freak death, they then do their best to keep the performance alive in front of the audience. It gets absurd, messy and nonsensical, and there are even some real emotional gut punches," Schwab tells me.

The Valuer review | Barking Spider Creative | Melbourne Fringe Festival | GalleryGallery INC

How much is that weird little object you’ve been holding onto for years actually worth? The Valuer invites audiences to find out, bringing their knick-knacks to a Suprahuman Valuer for assessment. Created by Penelope Bartlau and Jason Lehane (of Barking Spider Creative), the immersive work plays with our ideas of value, ownership and attachment, asking whether we really want to keep the things we treasure once someone else puts a price on them.

In some ways, this is a sequel to Barking Spider Creative’s The Collector, which I attended last year. Both works explore the stories and worth we attach to everyday objects, but this time the experience is personalised. Rather than engaging with a room of curiosities with another participant, we have our own consultation with the assessor, creating something smaller in scope but no less playful or absorbing.

The visit begins with a brief chat with The Valuer’s familial, who fortunately manages to condense reams of paperwork and terms and conditions into a short interaction. We’re given an explanation of what to expect, without giving anything away. Once the formalities are done, we open the door and take a step inside.

Luke review | Red Stitch

How much can you trust a story when the person telling it has something to hide? Angus Cameron’s Luke explores the uneasy relationship between truth, memory and storytelling, blurring the line between what happened and how we choose to remember it. Developed through Red Stitch’s INK program, this dark drama follows Chris, a 19 year-old whose night of drinking and philosophical debate with two older teacher friends in 2007 sets in motion consequences that will reshape their lives for decades to come.

This becomes more compelling once Chris takes on the role of narrator. As the story progresses, we begin to question whether what took place in the first act actually happened as we saw it, or how much has been embellished in Chris’s retelling. The play creates a complex grey area between fact and interpretation, as Chris' account of the past is shaped by his memories and the narrative he wants to tell.