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"White Power! White Power!" and the man in the wheelchair cranks up the motor to run down a few people crossing the intersection of Enmore and King Streets in Newtown. Leaking black metal music from the stereo underneath his seat, leather and a flat mohawk is all that this man is.
Waving out to the lingering crowd, the burly doorman of The Hub motions for the filling of seats. Smooth floors provide a sliding access. The coarseness within those same panels cause for jittery moves. Dank and wide open, the expanse of the interior of The Hub shows signs of continual upkeep, woodwork still rough and undone.
Keep them waiting. Forget the time, that's irrelevant. Start about an hour after the post and even then, don't come out first. Instead, send out another man to warm the crowd up. A few of them are sleeping off the week. Others getting well blotto for the upcoming weekend. Others still are actually looking forward to the in between. Whatever and wherever that is.
Some band is on muffle down on Level One. Level Two of @Newtown is spacious, seats all over the place and people lining the walls. On and on the people look for seats in the dark. An hour of this continues with the band playing songs and singing with a forgettable beat in a familiar sound.
Rest of the review of Peter Helliar - Frisky - @Newtown - 07/10/05
Relief stems the throat and sweat of Chris Addison as he prepares for the final stretch of this feature presentation, Civilization. Three more to go, he says, delighted at the prospect of finally taking to rest this show of his. Within the relaxing and intimate atmosphere, Addison strikes up an instant rapport, chatting calmly with the audience after the loud hush of the introduction.
With the title of the show clear from the start, the night rolls into a serious of markers and lessons in deconstructing the construction of a civilization. Control of the universe, the rules and rulers, cities and monetary concerns, just some of the chapters through the night. Taking points along the way, Addison briefs those in attendance with naked facts and opinions dressed in the furry overcoat of a wry style of delivery and acerbic observation.
Rest of the review of Chris Addison - Civilization - The Studio, Sydney Opera House - 29/04/05
Two hours before the crazy xylophones even start banging away, the man at the box office says that the Maria Bamford show is "pretty much sold out," as he spits out two tickets to The Studio. Back row, up on the side of the mezzanine. Down in the pit, with the chairs at the tables all taken to with drinks, rows of seats are on a toilet break. Holes here and there seriously rubbing doubtful gasps on the claim at capacity.
Nothing spectacular announces the performance, outside the booming voice, standard fare. Maria Bamford is a woman with an amazingly wild head of hair. So much so that at times it's not even certain if there is even a face underneath it all. Thoughts quickly taken outside with the rabid dog as her lips and eyes poke out at intervals and clears the way for certain characters from within.
Cosy, at the knee-knocking insistence of the seats of the Everest Theatre, the audience jolly into position at the The Labradorian Retreat with Arj Barker as the Leader. Latecomers make a fool of the usher who, only moments before, order those with seats at the back to fill in those down in the pit.
With nothing more than a simple "Hi," everyone is already in the joyous love of Arj Barker. After a simple preface and explanation on the title, Ego No Amigo and some "simple Spanish," it's all on. Mixing and mashing more than one angle of a show and reality, Barker oozes the familiar charm of a regular cult leader.
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