Here goes… This show is fun. This show is really really fun.
Big Lies Theatre take this limp script and invigorate it with bundles of physical comedy, ridiculousness and audience interaction. It is an absolute credit to the cast that they (almost) never corpse, considering I laughed so hard at one point that I physically dribbled on myself. The text is given life by this one hundred percent dedication to character, as we blissfully see the actors honouring the ludicrous ups and downs and exclamations in every direction with an honesty that could almost be beautiful, if it wasn’t so gloriously idiotic.
Specific highlights for me (pardon the spoilers, and the listing) were Rachel Chin’s expressive facials and impressive eyebrows, Rosie Howell’s dance moves and wall slide into oblivion, Ben McCarthy’s loveable and horrifying persistence with his mother, Alayne Dick’s outlandishly wooden acting and gesticulation, Baz Macdonald’s repeated comb-over rescue missions, Jo Byrne’s too-good-to-be-real orgasm and commanding physicality, Sydney Lehman’s front row only dance/murder threat experience, Alex Wilson’s seamless chair flip and consistent background dancing, and Abby Howells ‘you just got burnt by the snooks’ face. Big Lies is a company that absolutely reeks of fun and silliness and the hard work necessary to make them both delicious and focused.
On a similar note, the cast of this show light each other up and look to be having a truly excellent time, which communicates to the audience that we’re allowed to have a stupidly good time too; free to laugh a little louder, yell Moose a little faster, and generally let loose a little, so thank you.
The interval caught me unawares and I feared, because the script is terrible let’s not forget, that the second half would lose energy or traction, but the cast burst onto stage with zest and rejuvenated my interest! The two halves, in fact, could be summarised as the absolute opposite of a double wet blanket.
The lighting design was blatant and whimsical; red means someone’s died, blue means we’re a bit scared, but it worked seamlessly with the tone of the production as a whole. Speaking of seams, an absolute hats off to Jim Stanton, who kitted the cast out in gloriously dated outfits and wigs, completing this bizarre and incredible world. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit, but will certainly not be calling again. This really is an invigoratingly, unabashedly, gloriously, and admirably, HORRENDOUS play, and I don’t think I could see it done any worse, or any better.