Theatre Centre’s Production Less Than Expected

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31091, 21 June 1966, Page 16

Theatre Centre’s Production Less Than Expected

"Oh, What a Lovely War" is a sad, slide, and rather sick theatrical documentary on the unloveliness at the First World War, with singing and dancing to sugar the pill. The New Zealand Theatre Centre’s opening performance last night was rather like a fireworks display—some wonderful set pieces, and a let of standing around in the cold. And you bad to be looking in the right direction or you missed the skyrocket.

The east all worked bard enough, and the production moved fast, but the impact, the excitement, the magic just were not there often enough. Perhaps the television film series- on the Great War stole some of the thunder, perhaps the Majestic Theatre swallowed the sound —and some of the words—pertraps the atmosphere or the original Intimate production for Downstage in Wellington did not survive being transferred to a big stage.

Some at the scene* explode like a whizz-bang, and the splinters at satiric shrapnel will stay embedded In one’s mind for a long time. There is the hymn ginging and prayers on church parade, the celebration of Christmas in the trenches which begins with “Silent Night” being sung by a German soldier, and the meeting of financiers who fear that peace may break out—wonderful, moving, memorable theatre. The show has laughter, too —one of the funniest, yet cruellest, sergeant-majorwith-raw-recruits scenes one is likely to see (Jonathan Hardy is superb), and plenty of crude-funny jokes. And much of the characterisation, especially from Paddy Frost, Joe MnaapUa, and Boy Patrick, was excellent caricature.

Perhaps the songs are not given enough space, nor enough production: with some exciting voices (Graeme Gorton, Ginger Skillman, and Silvio Fsmularo) and a re-

nrarirabiy sensitive mall orchestra one might have expected the singing to dominate more than it did. The dancing, led by nimble and vigorous Ken THaon and Leonie Leahy, wa* very sceomptisbed, but predictable and often extraneous to the main concern of the action. It might be that the glowing review* from overseas and from other parts of New Zealand led one to expect something more shattering, more absorbing, more brilliant than that which wa* In fact offered. Theatre-goers are more likely to be fasdn*ted by the ingenious marriage of slapstick, vaudeville routine, satire, film (tips, slnitag, dancing and comment on the pity ot war than they are to be held “magnetically ’ by its entertainment value. Professional theatre has y®t to produce something Which eon compete with the exciting achievements of our national opera and ballet. —P.R.S.