Flesh-Eating Tiger

For six years Jason Cavanagh has given us one of Melbourne’s most special arts theatres – specialising in offbeat offerings from classic writers (Ariel Dorfman’s Purgatorio last year was one of my all time favourite productions) as well as new and contentious works from lesser known playwrights. The bad news is that Jason decided to sell and move on – the good news is that the tiny theatre will continue – albeit seemingly in a more Fringe-Arts driven fashion.

The name was been changed from The Owl and the Pussycat (from the much loved Edward Lear poem….small plaques built into the plaster honour Lear’s work) to simply The Owl and The Cat. The rationale escapes me. If you are going to change the name then call it simply The Owl …which is what most of us called it anyway, but don’t denigrate a poem much loved by generations. Hopefully I, and other fans, will get used to it.

That aside, new owners Gabrielle Savone and Thomas Ian Doyle are totally committed to their tiny theatre and have more than kept the flame burning with Flesh-Eating Tiger – a fascinating offering by fringe playwright Amy Tofte. Don’t be put off by the seemingly obscure title…this is a play about relationships – most particularly a couple without names. They don’t need names because they could be any one of us. They are archetypes and we identify immediately, but that doesn’t mean they are trite or clichéd. The interaction and emotional rawness are dazzlingly truthful and therefore often confronting. The male nudity at such close quarters might confront some little old ladies….but old ladies (apart from myself) are not the audience for this piece.

In the hands of a lesser director this could be dismissed as a self indulgent “wank” and, indeed at its only other production, some critics found it disjointed and pretentious. Cavanagh’s skills are such that he finds the clear delineation between scenes, between what is real, what is a play within a play (within a play), what is absurd, what is tragic. Having clearly identified the separate arcs, he then blurs the lines for us, so that we are never sure, at any given moment, what reality we are in …if reality at all….and isn’t that Life itself? The point is though, that Cavanagh knows, and has a clear grip on the truth. He keeps us always slightly off balance, even in the blocking…and what is lit and what is in darkness …  and elicits performances from his tiny cast that are superior to the text itself.

There are very few “givens” in the script. He is addicted to alcohol….she is addicted to him. He doubts his sexuality (Is he gay?) because the relationship with her isn’t working…she uses her sexuality (and excessive neediness) to manipulate him to the point of destruction….but finally it is he who delivers the death blow that is his salvation. Sub-textually it is very dark….yet it’s also wonderfully comic and full of laughs and totally satisfying theatre.
Marissa Bennett and Zak Zavod (brilliant name) are simply stunning in their roles. Bennett is both destructive and vulnerable, manipulative and needy, driven…and a mess. She handles the transitions in emotion with invisible skill. It’s a terrific performance and there is great truth in her portrayal…even up close she is totally convincing. It’s raw acting without guile at close quarters. I look forward to seeing her again. Zak Zavod is totally credible as the drunk and makes the character sympathetic even when he’s behaving abominably. He has physical grace and great inner strength, and it will be a joy to see him as he grows as an actor. He has something special. The last scene of the two of them together is intensely real and moving.

Added to the mix is Colin Craig, called Blank Man…he does everything else….provides background music, and props (he is a very convincing Beer Bottle) and even the drunk’s alter ego when the drunk has to examine what the hell he is doing with his life.

This is good theatre in a venue we already know and love. Tiny glitches…like the actress’s surname not appearing anywhere on the programme – and the season end not on the website – and the now excessive noise from Bridge Road… will no doubt be sorted out – and I can’t wait to see what Cavanagh directs next.

Coral Drouyn

Photographers: (top) Giovanni Lovisetto and (lower) Jason Cavanagh.