Reviews

One of the enduring questions for those of us looking back through time at what happened during the Third Reich is, “How did ordinary citizens sit by and let it happen?” In A German Life - the true story of Brunhilde Pomsel (Robyn Nevin) - you may find some answers. The play is drawn from 235 pages of transcribed interviews with Ms Pomsel, who was disinterested in politics and claimed to be unaware of the atrocities being committed by the Nazis, even while working as a secretary for Goebbels himself!

Upon taking my seat for this production, I was immediately impressed by the presentation and functionality of the set.  There are French Doors centre back and two single doors quite deep upstage on either side which both cleverly open with the doors downstage to as not to reveal any of the actors or potential paraphernalia in the wings.  The scenery is mostly blue with artistic touches of red everywhere which tie it all together nicely, creating a feeling of homeliness and warmth.

Basil Pepper would have been a beagle had his mother had her way. Instead, he paints fantasy figurines and attempts to work out the deeper meanings of Fred Basset cartoons. Until he meets Delia. She was a caterer at his father’s funeral, but he soon discovers she is so much more than that. She fills his head, he sleeps in her bed, and now he’s full of ideas – and action.

Finding new life in the classics, our directors often throw the switch to vaudeville; as though we Australians can’t abide too much psychological depth or anguish.

Chekhov argued this his last play was a comedy; his first director, Stanislavski, thought it a tragedy.  Admittedly Chekhov was close to death – and it is hard to pick the laughs!  They’re in the ironies and sad humour of this household of fallible Russian characters, individuals full of yearning and anxieties about what to do next.