I attended A Shortcut to Happiness on Saturday night, the same night as the All Black/ Ireland test.

Stuart Devenie, always a class act, made a pithy reference to the night’s other big event, as his character enters an empty dance studio, save for fretting instructor Natasha (Laura Hill) – Saturday nights are no good for dance, especially when the All Blacks are playing Ireland!

Roger Hall needn’t worry though. As I look around the close to full Sky City Theatre it confirms that any day is a good day for a Roger Hall play, even after over four decades of play writing. Sure, there’s a healthy group of audience members who stand forlornly like puppies outside the Nation’s Clubrooms round the corner from the theatre, to check the score, but they all return for the second half. [More] 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

While this production had some issues on opening night, fans of our most prolific playwright’s latest work will be pleased to know his much loved hallmarks are liberally sprinkled throughout the script: accessible circumstances and some recognizable characters plus those classic laugh-out-loud one-line gags. 

The premise of Roger Hall’s latest play is familiar: a collection of distinctive individuals meet on a weekly basis to enjoy community dance lessons. It reminds me a lot of another ATC season I attended just 2 years ago, Stepping Out by Richard Harris.

However, Hall’s dance classes are a journey of discovery for seniors, who grapple with the loss of loved ones, find new love and learn to love a new way of life, through this enjoyable flexible formula.  

Hall embellishes the plot with the comic twists that stem from ‘fish out of water’ and ‘lost in translation’ set-ups. He achieves this by successfully turning his muse, recent Russian immigrant Natasha (Laura Hill), into a refreshing voice box for summarising how many newcomers see us. The opening night audience loved her.

At times I wanted to give Natasha’s rants a standing ovation. Hall makes a couple of them refreshingly topical, political and caustic. From the shortcomings of our bulk-standard-Kiwi-men, through our “holier-than-thou” attitude towards smoking (in the face of far worse social atrocities) to our inability to build houses that stay warm, Natasha is a welcome voice for those Kiwi traits that drive so many mad – myself included. Her “shorts, sports and no culture” rant is a personal favourite.

Recently widowed Ned (Stuart Devenie) is another satisfying character, who’s given plenty of Hall witticisms, with gags about My-Sky, the thieves behind Blue Chip, bastard CEOs, the youth of today and his ungrateful kids. Ned also closes the first half with the best one-word reincorporation of a gag I’ve heard in a long time.

Despite the huge age gap casting wise, the dynamic between Natasha and Ned is the most interesting, in terms of character development, with more seeds of familiarity (My Fair Lady/ Pygmalion/Pretty Woman).

In terms of pure entertainment, the entrance of the play’s very own ‘Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum’ (AKA married clone-couple Bev and Ray) – a fantastic pairing of Alison Quigan (also director) and Cameron Rhodes – is a show stopper.

John Parker’s set design is clean, spacious and appropriately lit by Phillip Dexter MSc. Sound design by J.P. M’Ginty – essentially a series of pre recorded traditional folk tunes, piped through the theatre – is also apt.

Parker creates two functional locations: the community dance hall and Ned’s house. While the first set change is interesting, with lights and walls flying in and out, and side compartments rotating, by the end of the night, watching the time-consuming sequence is bit tiresome. For ideal flow, the design needs two fly men, not one. Members of the cast fumbling through a few dance moves in a huddle during these transitions does little to tighten the lag.

Parker (also costume designer) has fun dressing the cast in a mix of sensible expectation (Ned and Laura) and loud almost pantomime-like styles. Parker and actress Catherine Downs, channel aspects of Outrageous Fortune’s Cheryl West, to present their brash and bossy Janet. At first I thought Helen’s costume was too garish – Trelise Cooper-esque leopard and panther prints from head to toe – until I found myself standing next to a Helen replica at the bar during interval. Scary. 

Garish is a word that often springs to mind when the trio of women – Coral, Laura and Janet – carried the show. Coral, played by Bronwyn Bradley, who is lonely and looking for love in all the wrong places, dissolves into histrionics at times, as does Downes. Both are at their best when they dial in back a bit.  

To be fair, as characters, the 3 women are written with a lot in common: all of them sharing too much information, too nosey, too obvious, too chatty, too loud, and too lecherous. The complete lack of subtlety, en masse, is a bit of an assault to the senses. Perhaps if just one character had been that way inclined, it would’ve carried. But presented ‘in stereo’, it is a bit too much of a not-so-good thing.

I know there’s a plot to drive, but by the time all three have spilled their personal lives onto the floor within minutes of meeting, to me, and many in my row, these scenes feel forced, contrived and corny, rather than quirky, familiar and funny. As a consequence, rather than seeing these three woman as believable types, I find the characters less and less likable, to the point that I stop caring about them. 

Friday’s show lacked the full opening night sparkle and polish. Technically, the venue’s crew had a bad night, with scratchy mics, crackles and pops. Added to that, the evening didn’t seem to percolate and bubble along. As the stranger next to me commented, “so many long silences and pauses.”

Portraying the happiness and joy of dancing is essential to this play’s success yet some in the cast seemed tired, as evidenced not only in dance sequences (perhaps there are too many?) but by fumbled lines, dropped words, self-correcting and gabbling.

Besides the obvious exemption, Cameron Rhodes – whose dialogue-free performance is muted to perfection – the notable exception is Laura Hill, who delivers a near flawless performance in all aspects of her craft, from dialogue to dance (well set by choreographer Marija Stanisich).  

Hill carried the cast on opening night. Sassy, brassy, and voluptuous, she looks and sounds gorgeous and shines in the role.  

Personally, I would love to see more of David Aston’s perfectly pitched character, Sebastian. The arrival of this slimy player, with all the right moves, is most welcome and almost overdue. He brings a much-needed distraction to the trio of chatterboxes, Coral, Laura and Janet.

I’m sure with fine-tuning between script and performance, this production will bed in well. Opening night’s shortcomings feel temporary.

While the end is predictable, it is satisfying for many. In fact, the opening night audience, which included many core funders, councillors, politicians, sponsors and industry folk, clapped along on cue, and in time, to the final Russian Dance. Many in the audience were uplifted and entertained. Roger Hall fans will not be disappointed. 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer