The creation of new life provides a fitting inspiration for a piece of theatre that is breathtakingly spectacular, raucously funny and delicately intimate.

A fertile imagination and a lengthy gestation period have allowed Co. Theatre Physical to move beyond the formulaic gestures of physical theatre and deliver a show in which a spirit of playful exuberance conceals the meticulous and exacting choreography that has the actors flinging themselves in all sorts of wildly improbable assemblages. [More]
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The story comprises three main plots – Obstetrician Dr. Suzanna Sewell (Beth Kayes) and her desperate mission to conceive before her own biological clock, which she keeps in her coat pocket, goes off.  Workaholic fertility clinic director Dr. Roche (Debbie Newby) is pregnant, in labour in fact, only in denial because there’s too much to do.  Dr. Verity Rile (Eve Gordon) is a driven career woman searching for the perfect sperm, whose bloody minded determination is disrupted by the arrival of a new psychiatrist, who just happens to be her cheating scoundrel of an ex-husband Dr. Freeman (Mike Edward).

Jeremy Birchall as Dr. Roche’s doting, loyal, slightly highly-strung husband Guy brings an entirely practical approach, to the point of typical male insensitivity but redeemed by his sincere and well-meaning devotion.  Paul MacDiarmid as mild-mannered Errol has a generally refreshing safeness in the turmoil of the typical day at the office, though still not entirely above a bit of questionable behaviour.

If these character breakdowns remind you of any number of soap operas set in a medical facility, you’re getting the picture, partly. With Hospital Drama (not to mention comedy) as popular a television genre as ever, it’s inevitable it’s going to be satirised somewhere along the line.  Less predictable is the brilliant way so many theatrical elements are skilfully connected like an elaborate collage, so in the end its wholly original form echoes not only TV classics like ER, Scrubs, our own Shortland Street (etc), as well as Charlie’s Angels and other sensational crime shows, but also theatrical traditions nodding to Rocky Horror (even more the quirky cult sequel Shock Treatment), circus and clown, even touches of Beckett.

Unavoidable comparisons aside, the considerably talented cast blend a well balanced concoction of melodrama, slapstick, acrobatics, music and dance under the watchful eye of accomplished veteran physical theatre director Margaret-Mary Hollins.  Through all the satirical parody, spectacular antics and wry sociological observation, the medical-speak seems authentic enough to infer that the show provides at least a small amount of educational value.

For the first half hour or so on opening night there was a sense of slight unease not entirely due to the abrasive, chaotic alarms and sirens that introduce the show as the white-coated cast rush about in a hysterical panic even as we are being assured via patronising recording that there is nothing to panic about.  It seems natural on the maiden voyage for such an eclectic and abstracted piece of theatre that the players would be unsure of how it will be received, but once it was clear we got it and liked it they slipped into gear and didn’t look back.

The exemplary design team of Joey Ruigrok Van Der Werven and Simon Coleman (also Eve Gordon moonlighting as costume designer) have created a veritable, bordering on literal, playground of machines, trolleys, ropes and ribbons for the actors to flex the breadth of their abilities and inclinations.  Under Vanda Karolczak’s lights, to the eclectic mixings of Theo Gibson’s sound and audio-visual design, the final result is an all-round highly entertaining package.

I idly wonder if any, and if so which, particular element initially sparked the process through which this extraordinary work has been developed.  Was it a desire to pay tribute to the world’s most common miracle, or did they just want to make a hilarious medical soap parody?  Did it arise entirely organically out of a few theatresports games or were they on a mission to repair the wound to obstetrics-based theatre left by last year’s lamentable Who Needs Sleep Anyway?

It doesn’t actually matter what started it off though.  The whole maximalist concoction holds together without being overwhelming or confusing, which is impressive in itself.  It’s not hard to imagine the concept being developed further into a true cult classic.
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The promo material for Co. Theatre Physical’s Oh Baby Baby! describes it as "ER on acid", but there’s a whole lot of "Scrubs" in there too. Right from the get-go the audience and the cast didn’t seem to know what they were in for as the Mary-Margaret Hollins-directed production kicked off with a manic, montage-like explanation of the fertility-hospital-slash-soap setting. Then we were off.

Every US hospital-drama storyline is covered in the 80-minute roller coaster of acrobatics, song, dance, performance art and tragedy. You have your 9-month pregnant workaholic Chief of Staff (Debbie Newby), her husband who seems disappointed not to be able to give birth himself (Jeremy Birchall), the highly respected fertility expert (Eve Gordon) who’s shaken by the appearance of her cheating ex (Mike Edward), the random staffer of an indeterminate occupation whose appearances have a subtle way of redirecting and channelling the action (Paul Mac’Diarmid), and the just-returned-from-a-war-zone specialist plagued by post-traumatic stress (Beth Kayes). Together their tales, bodies and unconscious thoughts merge in one heck of an extravaganza.

The physicality of the performance is captivating from the start; there’s movement, acrobatics and a whole lot of trust and commitment from a cast that proves its strength time and time again. And it serves to make the poignant moments all the more memorable for their simplicity and calm.

I had a sense that, like a foetus, the show goes through stages of development and evolves as the characters reveal their Scrubs-like fantasies, only to be brought back to earth with a bump. This allows some characters to cover a day’s storyline in the 80 minutes, for others a series worth of plotlines is squeezed in convincingly.

The fourth wall is broken effectively time and again in the part-science lesson, part-spoof. The result is a show that, for all its leaps and TV-soap-style scene cuts, needs not explain its symbolism or imagery. The audience mightn’t know what’s coming next, but they’re happy to come along for the ride. All that marred the experience was atrocious acoustics in the venue, and the poor line of vision for audience members in the top three tiers of seats (I’m short and missed much of the tumbling).

As a woman who is yet to bear children, I loved it. Once I have, I’m sure my appreciation will be just as enthusiastic but my perspective somewhat different. I do have one word of warning though; as rollicking a ride as this is, the subject can be sensitive and because the show deals with it honestly it may be too raw for anyone who is unable to have their own child. I hope everyone involved with the show takes that as a compliment.
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