Monday 6 September 2010

Touted as the future of American theatre, Tracy Letts' play has been an international sensation since its Chicago opening in 2007.

It arrives on the Auckland stage with an enormous burden of expectation but more than lives up to the hype with a production that is hugely entertaining and emotionally riveting.

With tales of suicide, substance abuse, adultery, incest and paedophilia August: Osage County serves up a wildly intoxicating cocktail.

The lurid story elements you would expect from an American talk show or daytime soap are shaken together with the kind of character-driven comedy you get from a sharply scripted sitcom. This dangerously volatile concoction is somehow imbued with a deeply poetic sense of desolation.

The 3 1/2 hour running time - which includes two intervals - feels just right and allows for some gentle languorous moments that balance the explosive action as the show's chronically dysfunctional family turns on itself in an orgy of self destruction.

Colin McColl's direction is acutely attuned to the poetic qualities of the script and does away with the naturalistic setting of the original production.

His bold interpretation conjures up a domestic wasteland that has the players ensnared in the raked surfaces and sharp angles of Robin Rawstrone's set. The surreal quality is neatly reinforced by Phillip Dexter's moody, crepuscular lighting and Eden Mulholland's evocative soundtrack.

But above all else the play delivers a multitude of vividly compelling character studies. There is not enough space to mention all of the stand-out performances but Jennifer Ludlam anchors the show with what could be a career-defining performance.

As the family matriarch her acid tongue strips away the genteel layers of pretence - potently reminding us that it is in family relationships that we are most cruelly exposed to our own inadequacies and frailties.

Equally impressive is Jennifer Ward-Lealand as the rebellious daughter who morphs into a facsimile of her mother, and Alison Quigan as the strait-laced sister who carries a truckload of unresolved baggage.

Each member of the 13 person cast throws themselves into their role with performances that are emotionally saturated and often wickedly funny.

by Paul Simei-Barton