Theatre Review: Home, I'm Darling

Production: Home, I'm Darling
Melbourne Theatre Company at the Southbank Theatre until 29 February

Imagine your life today, then set in the 50's. Imagine how things would play out. Think about what would be different. Picture what would would change.

This is the premise of Home, I'm Darling, Laura Wade's comedy currently playing at the Southbank Theatre which is done with great aplomb.

Judy (Nikky Shiels) has this life. Gone is her life as a career woman in Middle England. In the years before the action, she took a package from work, her husband, Johnny (Toby Truslove) is the breadwinner and everything appears to be a 1950's perfection, down to dinner on the table when hubby gets home, laminate benchtops and a cocktail set on the sideboard. This arrangement appears to suit the both of them. Judy enjoys her housewife life, away from the stresses and horrors of modern corporate life. Johnny is fine with the situation, supporting his wife and their shared love of all things from the 50's.

But of course, the wheels come off, and that slightly dull and muted veneer hides some very uncomfortable truths.

Home, I'm Darling is a wryly observed situational comedy, where a longing for the past is show for what it really is. It looks at a marriage and how differing standards and events shape a wonderful construct and turn everything on its ear.  Life is not as perfect as it looks for Judy and Johnny as modern day pressures infiltrate their 1950's haven.

This play is a solid start for the MTC's 2020 season. It is a gorgeous production, the set straight out of your nana's house when you were a child, only better kept and detailed. I had my eye on the step stool near the old fridge. We had one when I was a kid. It was brilliant.


The costumes were sumptuous as well, Judy, in particular has an amazing wardrobe which is a joy to behold.

Strong performances from Nikki Sheils and Toby Truslove are backed up by Jane Turner, playing Nikki's activist, feminist mother, Susie Youssef as her best friend Fran, and Peter Paltos as Fran's slightly sleazy husband Marcus are all great. Izabella Yena is also strong as Johnny's boss.

As the play progresses and Judy loses control of her 1950's reality, things eventually come to a head. Does Judy want to remain in her bubble? The play questions women's choices and how they are so varied, different and can be judged and perceived differently through many eyes.There is one speech, delivered by Judy's mum which resonates through the play. Things in the 50's were not as good as Doris Day and Rock Hudson made it out to be.

I loved this. Even if Judy's seemingly tenuous grip on reality grates at times, the play has a lot to say.
Even if contradictory views on feminism aren't your things, there is enough in the set, the costumes and the play's soundtrack to keep you entertained. The attention to detail in Renee Mulder's set and costume design is extraordinary.

Home, I'm Darling is definitely worth a look.

Today's Song:

Suffocation

The sky is purple. It's gone from orange to pink through a number of muted violets in the last hour. The sun, a wild orange disc sat low on the horizon for an eternity. It reflected on the city buildings, giving them a glowing red edge, as if they were on fire on the outside.

The smoke haze was palpable today. It's come back yet again, like a bedraggled puppy looking for solace, trailing around in the background but far too wanting for attention that you can't help but give it your attention. You don't want to let it in, but its there.

This is the new norm. It's not what I signed up for.

At first, it wasn't so evident. It started out as a beautiful day, the type of summer days that you wish for. Blue skies, not too hot, slightly balmy, a gentle breeze. I made my way to Hawthorn to meet one of my old work husbands for a coffee. He's not working either. We sat at a cafe next to the train station and put the world to rights for near on two hours. I miss working with him. He's good value.

But the air quality became an issue. My lungs started filling with crap, my nose running, eyes stinging. Catarrh was forming in the back of my throat. There were some smokers sitting near us. As an ex-smoker for over a decade, my intolerance for passive smoking is limited. But it wasn't the smoke from the smokers which was upsetting me. It was the air quality.

 I'm healthy. I've been in the gym a lot over the last two months, but I'm feeling sluggish - like I can't get enough air in my lungs. Later, with my trainer at our session I was reticent to do too much cardio - my lungs aren't filling. There isn't enough oxygen.

I'm sucking on a ventolin as if it was an e-cigarette, but rather than looking for that instant gratification from nicotine or some cannabis derivation, I'm seeking the solace of air.

And this is the new norm. It's not what I signed up for.

I remember living in London, where you adapt to your environment. You get used to the silt in the kettle from the over-processed water. You know when you blow your nose, your snot will be streaked with soot. It was an inconvenient fact if life. You got used to the detritus.

But this is Australia. Overpopulation is not the issue yet. The fires, and climate change are the issues at hand. 

The red rain may return. I've washed my car, taking care of the last bout of dust and water and soot. I presume I will have to wash it again in the near future as another dust storm overtakes the city.

For now, for the next few days, there is the promise of smoke haze. I won't go outside the house without ventolin. I'll stay inside. I'll avoid exercising outside for extended periods.

And I will wish for the time when the air was clean and free from the particles of trees, and grasses, and animals and buildings and other unthinkable events which are circulating in the smoke.I think it's this fact which upsets me most - not the ongoing feeling of having your lungs in constant recovery. It's the fact that the air contains the last remnants of tangible things. It's upsetting. It's frighting. It's a constant reminder of the horrors of the last weeks.

And this is the new normal.

It's not what I signed up for.

My only consolation - I'm about to embark on writing a dystopian novel.

I don't have to look hard to find inspiration for my setting.



Today's Song:

MAFS Episodes 1&2

I'll let you in on a dirty, little, grubby secret. My one reality program, the one that I watch religiously, the one that I tape, the one that I'll stream before work if I miss it - is Married at First Sight.

Yep. I'm a MAFS fan. This semi-intellectual, Shakespeare and Pixies loving, literature reading and writing gin snob, who really doesn't do reality television, is into that most trashy of trashy shows, MAFS. I don't do any other reality television with such gusto - okay, I used to like Masterchef - particularly the old style English one with Lloyd Grossman. I'll watch one of those bake off shows if it's on. But that's it. I don't watch the Kardashians. I have no idea what a Van Der Pump is. My Kitchen Rules just appears to be a bitchfest.

But I watch MAFS.

Religiously.

It's like so much make up, so many tattoos, so many injectables and boob jobs all in one place. It's fascinating.



I've been trying to work out why I love MAFS for the last seven years. The first series was good - and it was an experiment and it was unscripted and you watched the five couples as they tried to make a go of things. Of the first series, none of the couples are still together, though one did give it a good go, having a child in the process.

As time has gone on MAFS has got more scripted. There is the weekly dinner party, which seems to be a reason for the couples to get plastered and slag off at each other.

Then there are the couples which leave in the first few days, realising that the experts are about as credible as Donald Trump's skin colour.

I mean, who puts a shy virgin with a woman, though caring and sweet, who is also bisexual and into a bit of a gang bang now and then (Not judging her - judging the 'experts' for the match). How good is it to watch somebody lose their virginity on the telly during prime time?

Then you get those who come back. Coming in for a second chance. Right... (though saying that, poor John who came back last year seemed like a reasonable bloke and the ditzy yoga teacher who was disappointed he wasn't Samoan was never going be happy with a chain smoking salesman from the West of Melbourne).




For a few weeks of the year, you get to look at other people's (read stylist's) dodgy fashion choices (Gold jackets anybody? Go on, you know you want to - just like you did in 1987)



(or more 80's camo fashion... yeah, great style)


So here we are, two episodes in for the 2020 series of MAFS.

What have the experts done now?

There's poor, rather damaged Poppy. Mother of twin two-year-old boys. Relates the story of how her husband and an accident and fell into a co-worker's vagina. Using humour to mask pain - always a great move - nobody can see through that. She wants somebody to be there for her.

So they match her with Luke - the Fly In, Fly Out worker - who appears to be a bit dull, but a nice fellow - which is the main thing. They're both parents. They'll understand each other. They could have matched her with a complete arse, so this might be one to watch - like poor Jo last year.



Then there was Cathy, who's very pretty, a Kiwi who's giving this a try after having her last two partners cheat on her. She's developed a thick skin because of this. She's been matched with Ryan, a tradie who likes to party. They both seem okay. A little bit boring, but you can only wish them the best. They both seem like good people.

The second episode had the first lesbian wedding on MAFS. One rather scary* type, Amanda, damaged from her parent's non-acceptance lingering in the background, and Tash, an equally scary*, tattoo covered woman who appears a bit softer than the other. They make a lovely couple - look really good together, but I can see what could happen as two scary people are put together in this pressure cooker.

(*By scary I mean they both have very strong personalities)

Oh, then last but not least, Natasha and Mikey. Both are from the North Shore of Sydney. Both are probably members of the Young Liberals. Both are 'Alphas'. Both are into their work. She appears to be Cruella DeVille's slightly less evil sister. He seems a bit like the dopey second son running Mummy and Daddy's old age home tax rort (actually he seems like a genuinely nice bloke - his relationship with his disabled aunt has been highlighted). She comes across as genuine as her fake tan. He seems a bit lost. I'll give half odds they don't last past the honeymoon.

Are these real people?

It astounds me that such emotionally fragile people will put themselves up for this. And there are lot of emotionally fragile people on the show. It also has an unfortunate way of highlighting some of the not so good things about Australian society - toxic masculinity being the main one. People wanting the fairy tale being the other. And we won't talk about some of the VERY dodgy fashion choices.

I don't know. MAFS is my guilty pleasure. I can't talk, never having been in a long term relationship and have no idea what it is to be married, let alone get to the process of exposing all of my filthy emotional laundry to the country. I know that I'm a big marshmallow under my tough exterior. I would never been brave (or stupid enough) to put myself what these people are doing. As Sartre once said, hell is other people. And some of these people are hellish (read the entitled millennials)

But I am a hopeless romantic. And deep down, I wish the lot of them well.



Today's song:

NQR

I'm a bit NQR today - not quite right. I'm not bad. I'm not sick. I'm just not feeling overly brilliant today. I'm just a bit headachy and feeling off colour. No energy, my throat is a bit sore. Nothing that some panadol and a lie down won't contain. but it means things aren't getting done. I've got a toilet and hallway to paint out, a CV to go over and a flat to clean - but I don 't feel guilty. I just feel NQR.

It's a hangover from the ghastly weather over the weekend. After spending in a day in air conditioning up in Sydney I think this is what started it all up. It will go away. Have a quiet one. Drink lots of water. Take the panadol. Read a book. Fun.

Or maybe this malaise is just a result of the political situation here at here at the moment. Thankfully Barnaby Joyce is not the leader of the Nationals. We've had him as the deputy Prime Minister. Once was enough. I worry about the Nationals. I get that we need to hear the voice of the country, but must they be represented by a mob of rorting tossers who seem hellbent on wrecking the joint. Like putting David Littleproud in charge of water. He's incompetent and leading the country down an awful path.

Barnaby Joyce is just a tool. There is plenty of evidence to show this.

But the rest of them appear to be rorting arsewipes.

Up to par with many other Libs, many of whom seem to be berks like this.

Maybe it's because I'm feeling NQR. Maybe it's because everything seems so nuts at the moment. Maybe I'm getting my head around the fact I'm getting paid monthly from March (ARGH - I've been on weekly or fortnightly pay for the last ten years. I have to learn how to budget.

I'm going back to the couch.

Today's Song:

Best Self Card: Meaningful Jobs

Best Self Card: In your peer group, who do you look to that has the most meaningful job. What could you learn from them?

Ergh, this is a bit of a loaded question. Most of the people I know are in technology or banking, but I do have a few friends who have the most weird and wonderful jobs.

I look to my mate Bria. She's an ethicist with the United Nations, working on policy around the data collection and other technology aspects where children are involved. She's a brilliant woman. Very funny. She's moving to New York soon from Italy, where she's been based for years. What can I learn from her? Perseverence. She fought long and hard to get this role. She persevered through her PhD, did a lot of contracts and finally got this role - doing so much good for so many people.

I look to Gaynor, who's a primary school teacher (and to all the teachers out there) How must if feel to be shaping the youth of the future. I can learn a lot of patience and fortitude. All teachers need this. I have no idea how teachers do this.

My friend Kaz is a librarian. She helps people to learn, gets knowledge into people's head, works with the community and lets information get out to the public. Librarians are a very undervalued resource - like teachers. I can learn a lot about grace from Kaz.

Then there's Mariah, who's been a social worker for as long as I can remember working in the public sector. First of all, I've no idea hell she's worked for the government for so long, but how she has been helping the less fortunate of the country for so many years. From Mariah, I could learn a lot about compassion under fire - because really, she has seen it all - and I would never be able to cope.

I wonder what it would be like to have a job which was really meaningful. I like my jobs, for the most part, but I can't see that what I do on a day to day basis gives anything back to humanity.

Maybe when I get my novel out, I'll do more service to humanity. At the moment, I'm just glad I'm doing something which doesn't piss off too many people. Well in my day job.

The holistic healer part of me is of a bit more meaning, but we don't talk about that very often.


Today's song:

Another Food Meme

Back in Sydney. it's horrible hot and horrible humid, just as I left it in Melbourne yesterday. I'm hiding out in the air conditioning in the Qantas lounge for a few hours before my flight. It's better waiting it out here in the cool - with the free food and drink, as opposed to nearly faint from the perspiration outside. Thankfully Melbourne is in for a cooler week.

Questions, as always, provided and sourced by Bev at Sunday Stealing.

How do you like your eggs?

If I'm making them myself, poached on toast, with tomato sauce. If I'm out, I'm very fond of Eggs Atlantic (with smoked salmon, wilted spinach and hollandaise) or Eggs Benedict. Depends on the place and what I feel like. 

How do you take your coffee/tea:

Yes, but without caffeine. So my standard coffee order is an almond decaf latte.

If you're making me a cup of normal black tea, I take it with a spot of milk - no sugar.

 I drink a lot of herbal tea and cold water tisanes too. In my fridge at the moment is Turkish Apple Tea. It's divine. 

Favorite breakfast foods:

Eggs. I do cereal during the week as its easy.

Peanut butter: smooth or crunchy?

Crunchy. Is there any other kind?

What kind of dressing on your salad?

This is a bit of an American question I think. Salad dressings go with the salad. If you're talking boring lettuce, tomato etc, etc, then balsamic vinegar and a bit of olive oil. But different salads required different dressings. Like you wouldn't use coleslaw dressing on it, you need decent mayonnaise. Or some of the wonderful Middle Eastern salads about the place need specialised dressings - lemon, tahini, oil, garlic... I like to make my own dressings for these. 

Coke or Pepsi?

When I drank it, it was Coke all the way (Well Coke Zero / Sugar Free). Not a fan of Pepsi. As it's caffeinated, I haven't drank it in 18 months. I don't miss it. 

You feel like cooking. What do you make?

I don't feel like doing proper cooking very often, only making a song and dance of things when I have people over. I love baking and make a stellar Lemon Polenta cake. My chocolate cakes, made from scratch (no packets here) are really good too. 

 

You’re feeling lazy. What do you make?

My standards are chicken and salads / vegetables, fish and salad, steak or stir fries. Easy stuff. 

In a lazy, I want something to eat, but I can't be bothererd, then its cheese on toast with a smattering of Worcestershire sauce. Sort of a poor man's Welsh Rarebit. 

You’re feeling really lazy. What kind of pizza do you order?

I very rarely get in pizza. When I do it's a meat lovers or Mexican hot. Thin crust please. From the Italian joint down the road, even better. 

Is there a food you refuse to eat?

I won't say I refuse to eat things, but on my prefer not to list are bananas and lasagne. Lasagne as you don't know what's in it. Bananas just have too many variables. 

I'm also funny about beany things. If I see there are chick peas or broad beans in something, I'll tend to give it a miss. Really have to be in the mood, or making it myself. I make great hummus. 

Favorite fruit / vegetable:

I love most berries, mangos and lychees. Lychees are awesome. 

Favorite junk food:

If I want a junk meal it's a toss up between KFC or Hungry Jacks (also known as Burger King) Nothing beats a Whopper with Cheese, with extra pickle. 

For snacky things, I love cheezels and burger rings - again, they're Australian things. 

Favorite between meal snack:

I'm a big fan of nuts - almonds, walnuts, cashews. I always have them on hand. 

Do you have any weird food habits:

Other than smothering my eggs in tomato sauce (ketchup)? I like my barbequed onions fairly crispy. Not really. I'm known for telling everybody who will listen that I don't like banana. 

You’re on a diet. What food(s) do you fill up on?

Green vegetables and lean protein. 

How spicy do you order Indian/Thai?

Fairly hot. Not locals hot, but I like my food to have a bit of a kick to it. 

The perfect nightcap?

Other than a gin and tonic? I'm known for making vegemite toast late in the evening. Vegemite is great stuff, but it's all about the butter/vegemite ratio. 

Today's Song:

Novel Notes

The world appears to be going to hell in a hand basket. Everywhere you look around is dreadful news. Trump pulling a ban on landmines on top of the farce that is the impeachment proceedings. There's Brexit. And don't get me started on the Australian Federal Government, which is as incompetent as it is corrupt.

So I've been avoiding the news. I'm also in Sydney. I'm holed up in a lovely hotel room - an old favourite. A place which has been rebranded, and this is not a bad thing, though the wonderful toiletries they used to have are no longer here - thankfully, the new ones are just as nice, but still. I loved this place for the way it smelled - the white tea scent was glorious. That's gone, along with the dodgy mural and the water feature in the lobby.

But I have to my writing to do today. Blogging daily gives me some focus. It's also good for my writing as I'm making myself write for an hour a day - and as soon as I start school I'll have to be writing more.

Which gets me onto the topic of the novel I'll be working on at school. And I start to get rather scared.

I was explaining to my mate over lunch just what an undertaking writing a novel really is. It's not something that you just sit down and write you have things to think about.

Things like:

• Who's your main character going to be?
• What are their arcs? (i.e. what do they learn along the way?)
• What is the story?
• What are the themes?
• What voice do you use?
• What is the driving force of the novel?
• What is the setting like?
• Does the setting lend itself to the characters?
• What about minor characters? (Oh I wish I could use Bede in this one - I love writing about Bede)
• What are the plot points that drive the story? 
•  How are you going to write this?

And these are the big questions, then there are all sorts of decisions and revisions that a minute, and an attempt to write then, will reverse (Sorry TS Eliot).

So I'm trying to start thinking about this stuff for the dystopian novel, which has all sorts of other things to consider like: 

• Where is it set?
• What conditions are changing?
• What is the government like and why is it dystopian?
• What rights are being curtailed / amended?
• How does the protagonist react to this?
• How do they get around the restrictions?
• What is the way forward?
• What is the environment like in the dystopian land?
• What are the consequences of going against the powers that be?

This is also only a short list of things to consider.

And now I'm getting nervous.

Why am I going to do this again?    (Yeah, yeah, I know I love it - but this is what it is like inside a writer's head.

It's not fun. I'm grabbing a gin and tonic and going to have a bath now. 

Today's Song: