Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds at Alexandra Gardens; The Placeholder at fortyfivedownstairs;
Updated ,first published
MUSIC
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds ★★★★★
Alexandra Gardens, 30 January
Throughout his decades-long career, Nick Cave’s work has always courted darkness: His lyrics reflect biblical images of violence, the pain of loneliness and grief, the kind of love that goes hand in hand with death. But it is equally attuned to beauty and salvation; to the distant, longed-for possibility of salvation. The power of his art lies in the tension between these two impulses, which can never fully reconcile.
This work of art was on full display at Melbourne’s Alexandra Gardens, where a thrilling 2½-hour set somehow didn’t seem long enough. It’s been nine years since Cave last toured with the full Bad Seeds lineup, and the band seems determined to make up for lost time. Everyone on stage comes into the performance with absolute conviction: from Warren Ellis unleashing his rebellious magic on the violin, to the gorgeous textures of the gospel-tinged backing choir, to the magnetic, visceral energy of Cave himself.
“It looks like we went on a big road trip across this country to get to Melbourne,” he says, to applause. This is a show for the home audience.
The set deftly balances work from the band’s 2024 album. Wild God, with carefully selected tracks from his extensive back catalogue. One early standout is search performance. Hey Children from the 2004 album Slaughterhouse Blues/Orpheus’ LyreCave’s dark impulses are on full display in her seductively menacing groove. Red Right Hand and doomsday bomb Mercy Seat.
While there are moments of pain, anger, and despair in the series, these days joy is perhaps Cave’s primary register. It’s in the naive lyrics frogspays candid tribute to former bandmate and collaborator Anita Lane Oh Wow Wow (How Wonderful)and most defiantly JoyCave portrays a ghostly child visitor with a message of hope amidst the tragedy of everyday life: “We’ve all experienced so much sadness, now is the time for joy.”
A lavish, six-song encore showcases some of the band’s best work: The Crying Song To the delicate cover of Young Charlatans shake (perhaps the world’s most successful love song written by a 16-year-old teenager). A brilliant performance into my arms it brings the evening to a close: soft, straightforward, the darkness always softened by light.
Reviewed by Nadia Bailey
THEATRE
Placeholder ★★★
fortyfivebelow, until February 8
The shared experience of grief has culminated in several sharp pieces of theater focusing on select families navigating existential questions of loss, friendship, and mortality: Domenica Feraud’s Off-Broadway play Someone Magnificent and closer to home, Ash Flanders’ Malthouse production This Is Alive between them.
Ben MacEllen Placeholder It is the last game that moves into thorny territory. We have quickly entered 2017, when gay communities in particular were subjected to a referendum on marriage equality. It’s a devastating time, illustrated by clips from real-life interviews and news segments that showcase the bigotry that was allowed to flourish.
Brought together by Barb’s Bosom Buddies (a fundraising collective dedicated to honoring the memory of the namesake Barb, who died of breast cancer), five very different people find themselves meeting monthly to brainstorm pins, banners, cookies, and cupcakes in the fictional rural town of South Bend.
Matriarch Pat (Meredith Rogers) is a soft-spoken retiree whose kitchen becomes the focal point of the play, perfectly brought to life by Bethany J. Fellows’ set design. Helen (Michelle Perera) is a widow with a heart of gold and a passion for cooking. Keira (Rebecca Bower), a proud lesbian, self-medicates with alcohol to survive life in a cloistered town. Barb’s niece Jo (Brigid Gallacher) is the conservative disgrace of the group. Sporty Nic (Oliver Ayres) used to go by Nicole’s name until they revealed they were turning into a man.
Retaliation is swift. The older members of the group, Pat and Helen, paradoxically accept the situation as their own, but Keira is outraged at the perceived loss of a lesbian peer and Jo insists it is just a phase. The remainder of the play details the repercussions of Nic’s constant insistence on his persona against the abyss of malicious arguments and misunderstandings.
The kindest, most level-headed character, Helen, is who most viewers will identify with. But Perera is very smart This Is AliveHe is also the strongest of the group. His comedic timing is impeccable, as he deftly alternates between displays of empathetic allyship and moments of perfectly executed humor that add levity to the play at key moments.
It works like a time capsule since it was founded about ten years ago. Placeholder It provides a stage for various expressions of acceptance and dissent as the group becomes embroiled in support of Nic. A contradictory bigot, Jo’s views cover well-trodden, disgusting ground. But Keira’s oscillation between solidarity and gender essentialism, and resilient self-victimization against the marginalization of others, is harder to digest and altogether more interesting.
MacEllen presents thought-provoking contrasts between desired gender-affirming care and unwanted life-saving surgeries, gender and sexuality, mental deterioration and newly rewarded clarity. But in nearly three hours, Placeholder too long. MacEllen’s script retreads familiar ground in the play’s second act, which drags somberly to its emotional climax(es).
The tenuous unifying link of a makeshift charity doesn’t explain why these characters are so devoted to each other, and why they especially tolerate Jo’s unscrupulous behavior. As a result, emotional payoffs are muted, further hobbled by unnatural, dialogue-heavy narration and uneven acting during key dramatic showcases.
Many things remain unresolved anytime soon. Keira’s alcohol addiction remains the butt of jokes, while Pat’s apparent descent into dementia goes unnoticed. The string-heavy interludes between scenes are filled with a greatest hits compilation of everything that’s happened in the intervening years – the good, the bad, the ridiculous. But the cacophony, initially so effective in demonstrating the overwhelming impact of the plebiscite, eventually drowns out the vote.
Reviewed by: Sonia Nair
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Nadia Bailey is a writer, editor and critic from Melbourne.
Sonia Nair is a contributor to The Age and Good Food.
