Okay, recently I wrote of the joys of taking kids to the theatre and of seeing their faces “light up” as they connect with what they’re seeing on stage. Of course, the converse is when they react badly: they shout that they’re bored, they wriggle and jiggle and ask when it will be over, they’re so terrified they cry (loudly) or, in the case of The Thing from the Place, they’re so grossed out that they rush from the auditorium and vomit in the bathroom.

So it was with Miss Eight, but I’d say the grossness on stage – which loads of the young audience love – wasn’t wholly responsible …

But if you have a child like my Miss Four who giggles and whoops and screams with the best of them, The Thing from the Place will be a wonderful mash up of mad science, monsters, romance – yes, it’s ultimately a love story – and madcap acting, dancing and singing. [More] 

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The archetypal ‘mad scientist creates a monster’ plot is a legacy first immortalised in cinema by James Whale’s Frankenstein in 1931, the plot and style of which served as blueprints for countless lesser-budget horror movies over the next three decades and more.  It’s also one of if not the most satirised genres. 

Theatre Beating’s latest offering in holiday family entertainment utilises this recognised, beloved-by-many format to tell a story that, while never shying away from predictable cliché, contains some original elements and manages a few surprises, both in the story and some ingenious theatrical effects. 

I gather director Geoff Pinfield co-devised the pastiche-laden, absurdity-driven script with his excitable cast of nutcases.  The supernatural menace in this instance originates from deep within the protagonist’s olfactory centre.  That’s right – it’s a snotmonster!

Jonathan Brugh plays Frankie, the naïve and ambitious scientist whose research in the field of sniffle-curing horrifies his haughty, hygiene-obsessed mother (a comically bearded Trygve Wakenshaw).  Believing he’s cracked it, he enlists the expertise of his hero – senior mad-scientist at the forefront of nasal science research – Doctor Lungbutter, also played by Wakenshaw in a white coat and a different nose. The three human characters’ distinct prosthetic proboscises are another nicely appropriate touch. 

Due to a disastrous laboratory mishap that needs to be seen to have disbelief suspended, an enormous and evidently sentient creature emerges from Frankie’s own nostrils. Dexterously performed by a fully concealed Barnie Duncan, Clarissa the giant nose-bogey is a magnificent, lumpy, shiny lime-green spandex squirming blob.  The challenge here is how to make a character created from nasal mucus sympathetic; somehow, they ultimately succeed. 

Gothic horror isn’t the only genre up for parody here – numerous references for the ‘trainspotters’ include King Kong, West Side Story and Pretty Woman.  The story itself is as much a coming-of-age fable and romantic tragedy, as it is a supernatural thriller. Of course, it’s as much absurdist comedy as everything else combined.

Celery Productions’ visual design (Ella Mizrahi and Celia Harrison), lit by Nik Janiurek, certainly plays into the pseudo-gothic theme with its multiple entrances and split-levels, dark staircase, cage doors, smoking test tubes and steampunk gadgetry.  Ingenious graphic effects projected upon the main wall include bubbling litmus dishes and expanding nasal emissions.

Composer and musician Jeff Henderson’s score comprises a glorious mash-up of pipe-organ tension chords, discordant piano flourishes, uplifting montage-themes and melancholic refrains et cetera, inset with occasional recognisable stings from soundtracks such as Close Encounters and The Phantom. 

Undeniably essential, inspired and outstanding as Henderson’s soundtrack is in conception and execution, the volume is often quite excessive in contrast to the cast’s un-amplified voices, and would benefit from remixing down as far as fifty percent in certain scenes. 

I daresay this and other issues with the timing and coordination of the rather complex theatrics will be addressed and improved during their short weeklong run.  However, I am inclined to feel the concert chamber is not the most ideal venue for such a pastiche-driven work – the acoustic difficulties and lighting limitations (true blackout not possible in the daytime) compromise its stylistic potential to some degree. 

Fortunately there’s still plenty going on to be entertained by.  For child-friendly purposes the emphasis is far more on comedy than horror – there are no genuinely scary moments; the most disturbing element is the snot-based comedy that even has the cast retching as they wipe their hands on their coats. 

It occurs to me the ambiguity of the title gives Theatre Beating room in the event they produce a sequel (which for a complete homage they surely must), they could advance this tale – after all, as Dr Lungbutter asserts: “Boogers can’t be killed, they can only be captured!” or alternatively opt from an entirely different form of Thing from a wholly separate kind of Place.

The blurb on the flyer purports this show to be concocted especially to hilarify both children and adults.  I can vouch as one of many hilarified adults, and the children’s laughter and occasionally unsolicited participation are conclusive proof.

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