Ethan Switch - Thursday, January 24, 2008 - Print Version
Wash the sweat out of the eyes as the elderly pair walk down Willoughby into McDougall. Ensemble Theatre, on the lip of Kirribilli water. Boats on moor and laughter from within. Well, that's fifteen minutes and being on time is classic professional. Consummate.
No bats for the eyelid on pseudo, wine glasses clear away and it's all hush-hush to break ahead of the break to watch and listen on as Toni Lamond recounts her life, her history and her lows. Times Of My Life, co-written by Toni Lamond and her son, Tony Sheldon, who also directs the one woman show.
Or, one woman with pianist to accompany. Still, it's all Toni Lamond, no less and all the more. From Australia to Manila to the US and back home again, it's a journey littering stories from the side of the roller coaster.
Not a soul is under 32 and the references to many of the artists and performers in which Lamond has made her life, will go well over the head of those not up to scratch on their trivia. Stick enough hours watching the old and grainy and listening to the vinyl scratchy and it's oohs, ahhs and uh-hums with the rest of them throughout the night.
Cuts to clips to punctuate with songs in the raw belly of the Ensemble Theatre pit and it's an arena in which Lolly-Legs herself continues to shine and show how great a performer and artist she continues to be.
Rolling up from her birth, it starts pretty much from the time she first ushers at the theatre. From there the love grows and grows to encompass her life and bleeds into it being all that she really knows and lives for. Save for her marriage to Frank Sheldon and nurturing of their son, Tony, it's all curtains to performances.
At times touching just perfectly on the sorrow of the end of her marriage to Frank and the depression of her drug addictions, the lift into the light of her career and dreams balances well.
Touching, heartfelt, informative and damn bloody interesting.
Nothing but fantastic for those into their theatre and early era Australian arts. Less so for those who can't stand being the only young 'un in an audience of the elderly and seniors of the scene.
Though, for the night, the smell of old is only a figment of goblet imagination.
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