Strangers in Between Jan, 2018


An absolute delight. Perfection…

I’m always surprised at how little actors need on a stage to create magic. In this play it is a bathtub, filled with water, which doesn’t really come into play until the very last few scenes. And yet, water does play a significant part throughout the whole story, if you pay attention. So the stage is clear to give the actors free reign of the audience’s imagination.

The play itself has been written by the insanely talented Tommy Murphy, author of the play  Holding the Man, which is an iconic Australian story that has moved people to tears for a decade now. Strangers in Between was written in 2005, a wonderful coming out story in a mostly hostile environment then, now  with marriage equality and equal rights quite firmly in place still an insightful coming of age story that has gained approval of both male and female, gay and straight audiences as a sign of just how timeless the language of this play turns out to be. (One of my seat partners was a young Indian man who saw a play, any play for the very first time. By the end of the show he said to me, but this is a play about gay men, how can you enjoy it as much as I? No, it is a play about humanity, about family and about friendships and that doesn’t change no matter it you are straight or, indeed, gay. He was quite puzzled by that I think 😉 )

The play itself was perfectly cast – yes, I’m biased, but hear me out: The three actors made me want to hug troubled Ben and have a night out with charismatic Will, made me want to mother young Shane and move in with Peter to just sit at his feet and have Chardonnay and good food. Guymond Simon took on two parts, Will with a rakish smile and oozing charm, and the deeply disturbed Ben, Wil King is Shane, the naive, clueless, big eyed and enthusiastic country boy who almost gets lost in the Cross in Sydney and Simon Burke is the mother figure with his self deprecating wit, his knowledge and his undeniable charm, who finally takes Shane under his wing to prevent him from falling prey to unsavoury characters. The Age called him a gay Obi wan Kenobi and I hate them for coining the phrase before I could. It is his empathy, his mastery of his craft. that shines through his scenes and had me truly moved (must have been pollen in the air in that theatre, surely)

The story: Shane, from some nondescript rural background, lands in Sydney’s The Cross, 2005 the steaming centre of gay culture. Barely two weeks later he works in a bottle-o (a shop that sells alcohol), no idea how to work the till, no idea what to tell people. In comes Will and he seems to be everything Shane has ever dreamt of. Charismatic, funny, good looking – and interested in him. There’s also Peter, in search of something nasty for his sister who’s a pain in the ass, who immediately picks up on the vibes between the two.

Neither of the men knows, but this is the beginning of new friendships, a new family even for this uprooted youngster.

Shane and Peter meet again in a bar – Shane clinging to a glass of water, while Peter, at home at the office, as he calls the bar, has a bottle of Chardonnay. With sweet naivete and the almost manic persistence of a puppy, Shane questions poor Peter about everything: where to keep honey (in the fridge? I don’t have a fridge!), what about laundry softener (on the shelf will do… ) , where to get coat hangers, would Peter please accompany him home because he likes company… yes, he is gay  (it’s good to say it), , are YOU gay???? Well, yes I am. You can say it here without being beaten (oh you can say it ANYwhere nowadays, the slightly annoyed answer of Peter) why do you hate your sister? (remember the nasty wine at the bottle-o)

And all of a sudden and probably for the first time a disarmed Peter opens up about his mother’s dementia and that they had to put her into a nursing home and the sister treating her mother as if she was the mother and their mother the child…there is so much remorse but also sadness about the inability to cope with all of it. They sit, then Shane says … so, what  about anal sex? The look on Peter’s face as he is questioned about this …  a priceless piece of acting that’ll stay with me forever.

So poor Shane, slightly more streetsavvy now, catches a sexually transmitted disease (something very bad) from Will. When he’s finally ready to face that fact, he goes to Peter who has taken to feeding him regularly, once again trying to ask him for company. But this time, over a glass of wine, and while venting about Will, who hasn’t called or come back for a while, the conversation gets more and more erotic. With breathless admiration and in vivid detail Shane recalls the way Will looked and smelled and acted, not realising – or maybe yes, realising and trying out just how far he can go – what effect that has on his friend. When he stands up, slowly opening  his belt buckle, Peter gets to his knees almost in supplication, hands shaking, face alight with – – – and then Shane screams at him – he’s only 16, and it works like a cold shower on Peter. Something has triggered the boy, he hurts Peter, accusing him of vile things, until Peter can’t take it anymore and, tears in his eyes, throws him out.

Ben is in town. Ben, the brother who had beaten him when he caught Shane and his friend kissing. Ben, who was successful in sports, especially swimming. Ben who dismisses accusations of a young girl, that their swim trainer had assaulted her, as lies. Ben who loved the water and wanted to spend all of his time in the pool. Ben who – it breaks out of him pained – himself was assaulted and Shane watched it once.  Ben, who follows Shane into the drycleaners and into his locked apartment.  (I was afraid of Ben. I was actually really scared of Ben. Great work by Guymond who has only a different shirt to help create Ben.)

When Shane has reached the end of his rope, his STD spreading, his job gone, his lover Will abandoning him, he turns to Peter again. We’re mates, mates fight and are okay again – that’s what his brother taught him after all … I got an STD, a bad one. Peter’s face falls, his eyes mist up. Which one? Warts! (he says it with all the drama a 16 year old is capable of, and that is a LOT) and Peter breaks out laughing: WARTS???!!!!

He is going to go with Shane to the hospital appointment because they are friends, because they are family. And because Shane will need someone if he’s too “spasticated” from the meds. It’s what family does. And he is. Will is there, to help him into a hot salt bath after his operation, Peter is providing food and water and the bath, for that matter, and it seems that everybody has matured, has gained new insights, new perspectives on life. Will is behaving like a friend, not just a two time lover. Shane has decided to go back to school, and to face his fears and call home to make peace with Ben. And Peter, Peter had been cooking a curry, a recipy his mother had sent him years ago. Was in a kitchen drawer, fell out – purely coincidental – just one hour before the call came. Peter’s mother had died in her nursing home.
And he finally admits, to himself as much as to Shane and Will, that he was sad he couldn’t be more of a son to her. Because no matter what happened before, it is a duty – that when we are young, they take care of us, and when they are old, we take care of them. The remorse, the frustration, the sadness, all that so palpable, so real. (yes, pollen alert, my eyes teared up) And so Shane offers to come with Peter to the funeral, so that he doesn’t have to fly home alone.

Friendships forged in fire. And because of that a play that is timeless, also thanks to the beautiful rhythm of the language used, four different sets of instruments coming together in harmony.

As always, Simon Burke is amazing as Peter. It’s the little things, you know. The way he stands, walks, a gesture, his expressions, all that adds layers to his character. There’s scenes when he talks about his cat – the slut, which then vanishes, probably dies – that broke my heart. He made this character human.

I wish I could have seen it not just in Melbourne, but in Sydney as well. Damn, but it was brilliant and I loved it so much!


interview Simon Burke

















Richard III March ’17

theatre misc

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour’d upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain

About a prophecy, which says that ‘G’
Of Edward’s heirs the murderer shall be.
With these words Gloucester introduces himself to his audience, a crippled man, unloved, unsightly and unattractive, yet charming, oh so charming when needs be, and cruel and calculating in order to get what he wants, what he sees as his birthright.

Once again Richard was cast with a woman, the incredibly awesome Kate Mulvany, and once again the audience forgets that a woman is playing a man’s part because as it often is with Shakespeare’s characters, it is the archetype of someone lusting after power, after approval, after recognition that becomes a character – and because Mulvany is just so brilliant in the part. While baring her soul to her opponents, Mulvany literally bares all, standing naked, with just a loincloth like panty, back to the audience, proudly in front of a phalanx of Lords and Ladies, and shocks them into silence. A mesmerising scene.

10 people on stage, waiting in the richly decked out salon, where the play takes place, the men taking on multiple parts, interchangeable just as their hunger for power is. The women play one part each, though, their motivations are allowed to change. Whenever a battle scene is on, we see – in slow motion – a wild almost orgy like festivity play out in this salon. First I didn’t like that, I was too caught up in the “traditional” way of portraying the battles, but in retrospect I think the idea to not move from that salon is genius. The hatred, the scheming and the fights can be identical, no matter what kind of battlefield you choose.

When Richard finally dies because everybody turns against him and his cruel reign (and isn’t it fascinating that hundreds of years after this was written the world waits for exactly this kind of end to yet another nepotistic dictator? nothing changes, it seems), Shakespeare gives him the most pathetic words: A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse. And then Richard is killed.

Not so in this version (and I freely admit I had to look it up and found it in the Sydney Morning Herald – thank you for that!): because Kate Mulvany – who also directed (is there anything this woman can’t do???? she is marvellous!) – gives Richard a final chance to explain himself, to make him understood, even pitied even though pity is probably the last thing he wants. With a monologue plucked from the last act of Henry VI, part III she shows us his warped soul, his defiance, his non-acceptance of his defeat and his final pride:

“I have no brother, I am like no brother;

And this word ‘love,’ which graybeards call divine,

Be resident in men like one another

And not in me: I am myself alone.”


standing ovations were had. and rightfully so. Ms Mulvany is incredible, as is her direction. I hope she’s on stage again the next time I’m in Sydney. I will make time for whatever play she’s in.

The Homosexuals or Faggots, March ’17


Please, dear reader, bear with me. I have the ultimate pleasure to see this play multiple times, thoroughly enjoying it every time and being totally overwhelmed by the sheer talent of Simon Burke. Yes, I am a fan, but I think I would be able to be critical as well. It’s just … he – and the cast as well – are amazing.

The play by Declan Greene is new, strives, and succeeds, to be provocative, is over the top crude at times, but drives home its points with directness that sometimes hurts. Because it’s not just “Homosexuals” that recognise themselves in the words of the play. If we all listen closely, we all recognise ourselves to a degree.

You see, it’s all about Warren (Simon Burke) . He is a successful blogger ( and yes, there are various blogs of that name but sadly none of them is affiliated to the play), he owns an apartment in tres chic Darlinghurst, he’s happily married and quite admired for his erotic photography. At least that’s the picture he presents to the world.

The opening scene lays the grounds for what’s going to come. A very upset Warren tells us about this dreadful evening he’d had. Husband Kim dutifully delivers encouragement and the proper adjectives. Because it’s been a farce! First paying 120 dollars for tickets to impress Warren’s guests from Yahoo (big deal), then sitting through an – English – farce with according to Warren only one redeeming scene (which Kim didn’t like at all), and finally trying to find some food at 11pm in The Cross in Darlinghurst. They make it to a British pub and there it was. In the menue. Written there between Spotted Dick and Wiggly Squids: Faggots! A farce, really. Slurred at by a menue!!! Both Warren and Kim take immediate offense which results in a flying plate, an enraged pub owner (they’re minced liver meatballs!) and a devastated Warren feeling powerless (Kim: you felt impotent.. Warren: NOT impotent, just to clarify!!!) . They decide to boycott the place.

Fast forward months to Mardi Gras in Sydney. Warren has invited a gorgeous Twink (a twentysomething year old straight boy) to do a “photoshoot” he clearly wants to expand into something else. But while the unsuspecting Lucacz tells stories about how he and his model agency friends had been hiking naked and then drove home – naked (and Warren has no idea how to hide his naked lust) – Kim comes home early from a summit, because he had been cyberbullied. So in between hiding the Twink, ushering Kim upstairs and having to take up an interview with Bae Bae, a highly political blogger with a web series, Warren is being tugged in every direction. Only with the help of his old friend Diana he manages to avert immediate crisis, but it doesn’t end there. Bae Bae turns out to be the bully that had hurt Kim. Kim suspects – correctly – that husband Warren had more in mind than just a photoshoot, and had forbidden Warren’s hobby when they married (It’s not even legal, some dyke wooshed a stick over you both on the beach, ladida, says Diana) and Lucacz has lost his baggie of cocaine in the folds of the couch.

Bae Bae turns out to be half blind and only thus another terrible crisis is averted, because the internet VIP takes offence at anything even remotely racist. Luckily she has to run out in support of a friend surrounded by the village people.

The parade starts (and can only be seen from a window over the loo in the bathroom) so everyone still present runs in there.

Enter a burglar. By now Warren – trying to convince Kim he didn’t have a photoshoot planned – wears a too small police costume, Kim has donned a Caitlyn Jenner costume, Diana wants to go to the politically incorrect party a friend is throwing and the burglar looks just like Bae Bae and has lost her previous job as a sous chef because some idiot threw a hissy fit and the pub had to close down because of a boycott.

Lukacz comes back for his “baggie”. Unfortunately the burglar was faster, the coke is gone. Madness reaches its farcical boiling point with doors opening and smashing closed, a couch turning into a wall and hiding people, and the kitchen going up in flames. Warren and Kim’s quarrelling reaches another highpoint when Kim throws mashed potatoes in Warren’s face and knees him in the balls. Those mashed potatoes make another appearance when Lucacz, being jewish, empties the bowl over Kim in his Hitler Drag Queen costume. and then Bae Bae comes back.

And everything is lost. Yahoo won’t be supporting Warren any longer. Diana is deeply hurt not just by Warren’s broken promise to go with her to the party. She fumes about how  both Warren and Kim have left their LGBT family behind to become one of Them. One of the wealthy married people who moan about how hard they have it – even though they have it all – a life none of them could even picture in the 80ies when they buried two or three friends a week at the height of the Aids-epidemic.

When Diana runs out of the apartment, doors banging, the life Warren had, crumbles around him. Kim desperately invokes their broken love, and that they must stick together, and clean up the apartment. But Warren is just sitting there, in the midst of the shattered remnants of his life, everything gone that he cared for, his life with Kim a lie. Tears are streaming down his face as the stage grows slowly dark.


Farce is probably the most complicated form of theatre to play. If the timing is off, it doesn’t work. If one of the actors tries to be funny, it doesn’t work. If the darkness of/in the end doesn’t come, it doesn’t work.

that said: this farce ticked all the boxes. The cast is fantastic.

I’ll start with Diana – Genevieve Lemon. Her Bill Cosby is a riot. Her monologue at the beginning of the dark end is amazing. The way she goes from hysterically funny to broken by memories and feeling left out by her best friend is an amazing display of her talent.

Bae Bae – Mama Alto – fuck, she’s good as Bae Bae. Yes, words hurt. They have meaning. They are worth fighting for. Awareness is a must in times like these. We all must be alert. I hear, she worked with Declan Greene (the writer) on her part. Damn, she’s talented.

Mama Alto also was the drug addled burglar who looked unbelievably like Bae Bae, thus adding to the farce. I do admit that she did seem a bit too over the top sometimes, but her talent made up for that. I like her a lot and hope that I’ll be able to see her in her “natural environment” as a singer/entertainer sometime soon.

Lucacz – Lincoln Younes – it’s his first theatrical adventure (he’s been highly successful on TV) and he brings all the goodies a “Twink” needs – he has a body to die for, he oozes charm and he’s quite sexy when he’s freaking out on stage. Almost with wonder he confessed at opening night that he realised only during rehearsals that he could actually play with different aspects of his part and he seems to be doing a great job so far, even when he’s realising something doesn’t work and thankfully ditching that in the next show.

Kim – Simon Corfield – he’s portraying that really whiney overly sensitive femme man where everyone’s wondering – given Warren’s preference for young, sexy jewish boys – why he ended up getting married to him. Somehow he feels like the weakest part of the cast, trying to overplay more often than not, and I wonder if it’s an instruction from the director ( who is doing an amazing job, btw – she’s incredibly gifted and the way she’s steering everyone else I think it’s not her directing. Lee Lewis did a magnificent job, and jokingly referred to directing a farce as the anarchy of the rehearsal room). I have the suspicion, that anarchy might have taken over Kim.

Now finally to Warren – Simon Burke. His part is the Lothario of the farce, the charming adulterer, the man who has it all, wants more and loses everything in the process. His comedic timing is impeccable. He is everywhere at once, barely leaving the stage and even breaking the fourth wall in a funny, desperately charming way that makes you understand why everyone is always forgiving him. He does it with an almost magical easiness and skill that is a joy to watch. Yes, he’s playing a “bad” character, but he does it in a way that has you forget his flaws. And when his career, his life finally collapses, the emotion, the sadness, the loss is there in his eyes and his demeanour. There is that one scene at the end where Kim asks him “have you learned your lesson” – and his up to this point heartfelt sorrow for causing so much pain drains away in moments until he finally, much colder, says “Yes”. It seems the last straw his husband is dealing him – when he sits down, tucking his feet under him, hugging his legs, it is clear that he has nothing more to give, no love, no regret, no feeling at all, but also that he can no longer take love – he is utterly alone. Something has died inside him as he looks at his life that is lost and shattered. And his tears mourn more than just the loss of his apartment.


also I want to thank the theatre and the theatre family at the Griffin – they treated little old me like royalty and I admit I enjoyed that so much! xxx


This is what Lee Lewis had to say in the program:

This play is a cluttered, messy,cruel modern farce. And right now, in the

midst of the anarchy of the rehearsal
room I am hating both the form and the
playwright: the form for embracing
implausibility and props, and the
playwright for leaving me with no choice
but to put these issues on the stage. If
Declan Greene had a less urgent voice, my
life would be a lot simpler this week.
Declan (has an) extraordinary capacity to detail the humiliations
and horrors of ordinary modern urban existence. His
writing is challenging for actors and audience alike. It
requires a deep honesty about frailty and pretension. It is
painful to make… and not just because of all the slamming
of doors. It is painful because it requires us all to dip into
the ‘well of worst moments’ in order to bring the best
moments of the play to life.
Yes there are big contemporary political issues wrapped
around the play but the heart of the story is filled with love,
age, friendship, the crises of choice and the horror of
The Homosexuals, or ‘Faggots’
dissects the
aspirations of coupledom but with the scalpel of farce.
Everyday at work is like entering the humiliation Olympics.
At the Q&A after one of the shows, (I think it was) Lincoln who said that in ten years’ time we’ll look back at this play and see how far we’ve come – and if we haven’t come this far, how much we failed.

Mr Kolpert / March 13th, ’13

theatre misc
This is a play from the year 2002 – it’s been archived by the State Theatre, recorded by one fixed camera, strictly for research purposes. Now because Simon Burke is brilliant and a miracle worker, I was allowed into the archives of the theatre to watch this surrealistic farce by  young German author David Gieselmann. To say I was happily overwhelmed is an understatement.

Title giving Mr Kolpert is a work colleague in a higher position of Sarah and Ralf. The two have invited friends – but their apartment is bare except for a rather large chest in the middle of the living room. There is nothing to eat as well! So when Edith and Bastian (Simon Burke) arrive there’s the question what to drink, eat and where to sit… And while Ralf is ordering pizza on the phone (not made easier by wife and guests repeatedly changing/repeating the varieties they want) Sarah also makes small talk – did they know Mr Kolpert?

There is an ominous knocking sound nobody can place at first – does it come from outside, is the pizza already being delivered? Or is it in the next room – or is it… the chest … the one item in the room nobody can overlook, the pink elephant?

And then it turns out – Mr Kolpert, with whom meek Edith of all people says she had an affair, who is missing – has been killed. Sarah and Ralf have killed him and stuffed him into the chest that is still standing in the middle of their bare living room. So while they are waiting for their pizzas to be delivered and while Bastian gets more and more aggressive, he and Edith try to open the chest while Sarah and Ralf are trying to prevent that. Even pizza delivery boy joins in – mostly because he’s mixed up their orders – and the terror of knowing that there is a dead person in their midst grows.

When they finally manage to break the chest open… it is empty.

But in the midst of relief and growing jealousy on Bastian’s side, growing confusion on pizza boy’s and simple glee on Sarah and Ralf’s because they were able to fool them all… fists fly and in the tumble between the two men and the two women with pizza boy as a reluctant spectator, they crash into a wall.

Mr Kolpert.

The killing couple had stuffed the corpse  into the dry wall.

It is as if the revelation of the murder and the uncovering of the corpse has freed primal instincts in everybody. They barely and now for real have stuffed Kolpert into the large chest when rage and bottled up anger come to the fore. And it is Edith, shy, meek Edith, who finally raises her hand against her husband under whose short fuse she obviously had suffered for years. Bastian is still half alive when they stuff him, with multiple stab wounds bleeding out, into the chest to their first victim. Because… to kill somebody could be the new normal…

This farce is a brilliant example that even partly repetitive and even nonsensical text combined with a strange, weird plot full of violence and malignance can make sense and lead to some soul searching in the audience if, IF great actors lend their talent.

As was the case in this production. There was not one moment – not even the laughable ones – when I wasn’t mesmerized by the sheer ferocity of Sarah and Ralf and by the very clever way they lured first Bastian, then Edith into their spider’s web of lies and deception, until Edith finally snapped.

And I had to think – what does it take to snap? How cold are we already to dine over a dead body, just being happy it’s not us. And how did Sarah and Ralf first start to kill…

It might also not come as a surprise that I was absolutely enraptured by Burke’s portrayal of Bastian – his command of his voice, facial expressions and finally body made it a joy to watch his fight with his rage, his conscious and finally with Ralf and with Edith and Sarah. He delivered yet another remarkable piece of work and I was so glad I was allowed to watch it.

It’s an amazing play and I am so very privileged to have seen it. My gratitude knows no bounds. (I want a DVD – yes, I am that entitled!) LOL

Cat on a hot tin roof March 12th, ’13

theatre misc

First of all – the Belvoir theatre in Surry Hills, Sydney, has THE best customer service in the world!
I was able to organise a ticket for Cat even during my 28 hour flight to Sydney. And the play was virtually sold out and I couldn’t book online any longer.  All I had to do was get there and show them my credit card. amazing.

As was the play. Amazing that is. A great cast, minimalistic stage – that’s all that’s needed if you have the right actors.

more to follow soon

Driving Miss Daisy March 12th, ’13

theatre misc

I think I am a very lucky person. I also think I saw theatre history being made. I watched Angela Lansbury, who is 87, and James Earl Jones, a spritely 82, cover the span of almost 30 years on stage and not one second did I not believe what I saw.

It’s in comparison a short play, about 90 minutes and without an interval, that tells the story of hardheaded Miss Daisy, 72, who crashes her brand new car and is therefore given a chauffeur – her son insists. It takes her six days (the time the Lord needed to create the world, so Hoke, her driver) until she accepts the help – not very gracefully at first. But over the timespan of 30 years those two headstrong, opinionated people evolve – not only to friends who respect each other but also to politically aware people who see the change in America even though change took a while longer in the southern states.

There’s also subtle changes in how Lansbury and to a lesser degree Jones succumb to their age – Lansbury taking longer down the stairs, then needing a cane. And finally – after having a stroke and being confined to a care home – a shift in her facial muscles and a little slur to her speech. But still these two people have their dignityas dignity isn’t something that can be taken away from them – it’s within them.

standing ovation. rightfully so.

It’s a tour the force and both – plus Boyd Gaines as the son Boolie – are very obviously having a lot of fun delivering their biting lines. I know there’s a very popular movie with Jessica Tandy and Morgan Freeman, but I really would start any petition known to man to have this play in this cast being filmed.

One tiny thing that both drove me bonkers and made me smile: the glossy program that’s really brilliantly done, has a very embarrassing error in the message of the producer, John Frost: he writes about James Earl James, not Jones. So I point this out to some important guy in a suit and it turns out – the program had been produced like this since Brisbane and nobody had picked up on the error. seems I’m quite good at my job… LOL

The Addams Family March11th, ’13

theatre misc

The Addams Family – first preview today – and yes, it looked pretty perfect to me. The cast is eager and having fun, the audience as well and we all were given masks to pose as Fester for a pic for the Australian Daily Telegraph who is sponsoring the whole show. Chloe Dallimore doesn’t only look gorgeous and has a strong voice, she’s also a comedienne and tangoes with the best of them. Her Morticia is amazing.

Gomez is John Waters and he does look rather old for gorgeous Chloe, but he has a nice  though not very strong voice and is almost continually on stage. So it’s probably just make-up that’s giving him the air of decades or is that decay 😉 He does have to carry the show, but doesn’t come across as very suave while trying to. Finding another Gomez would probably benefit the play.
Tim Maddren as the young love interest is appropriately yummie and in love, so that’s fine as well.
My Pugsley was Blake Hurford who was also Michael Banks in Mary Poppins (there is the scene where Grandma explaines a potion:”It would turn Mary Poppins into Medea” and he says: I don’t get your references” I was laughing already, too funny even without the added: well then get off your phone and read  a book once in a while)  – incredibly talented and fun to watch as the monstrous younger brother who loves to blow things up. He has a great fun torture scene and a huge solo number and aces both.

The story itself is nothing much to write home about: Wednesday is in love and wants to marry, her chosen boy is from a normal family. The first family dinner therefore ends in desaster. (we see that but with catchy-er tunes in La Cage aux Folles)  But love conquers all and in the end all three pairs (or four if you count Fester and the Moon) are together and living happily ever after or – in true Addams tradition: Are you unhappy, my love? Yes, truly and utterly unhappy, darling!

The first half is very much fun with the introduction of the quirky characters – they even resurrect the already dead ancestors that are mentioned in the program; – and the laying ground of the rather thin story line. the second half has two really great numbers – Death is waiting round the Cor(o)ner and Tango d’Amour – but is slower and weaker than the first half.

Remarkable the truly awesome stage design and the beautiful costumes. And there were even some political remarks inserted into the dialogue: what is it that everybody wants and not everybody has (Love would have been the answer but Morticia quips: “Marriage equality?”
so it’s a fun show that is worth a visit. oh, and yes, I had a first row ticket 😉 but I now also understand why it didn’t have a long run on Broadway.