Melbourne.Arts.Fashion: Young & Jackson
See article in its original context here by Meagan Welsh for Melbourne.Arts.Fashion.
★★★★
Presented as part of the 2015 Virgin Australia Melbourne Fashion Festival’s Cultural Program Project Series, this world premiere prequel to Reid’s seminal Australian play Codgers, continues the tradition of war time larrikinism and mateship in this delightfully heartwarming romp.
Young & Jackson centres around two young seamen – the energetic, immature and feisty Jimmy (Jacob Machin) and his just slightly older, more focussed and steadfast ship mate Keith (Charlie Cousins) – who are currently on leave from the Navy and shored up in Room 24 of the iconic Melbourne hotel Young & Jackson. Using it as base camp as they sample the delights that war-time Melbourne has to offer, they fit in dances and attending the races between planning their latest skit, “Good Night Nursie”, as members of the Navy’s Concert Party troupe.
While out gorging themselves with the culinary treats found in China Town one night, they meet the intriguing Lorna (Gabrielle Scawthorn), a young ‘Rosie the Riveter’ in training, who’s not backwards in coming forward with her physical affection, determined to do anything she can to ease a young soldier’s path through the dark world of combat. Emotionally distant, she hides a dark past relationship behind fancy clothes, a quick wit and strong ability to improvise. The men fall quickly and swiftly in lust with her; Jimmy employing a serious of near embarrassing flirtatious moves while Keith supplies the black market liquor. They set up a series of fortnightly dates, choosing to meet underneath the clocks at Flinders Street train station, where a wager is put in place between the shipmates as to whether their new paramour will come back for Date #2.
The flirtatious weekend is interrupted by a date of another kind; visiting Keith’s home-town friend Les (Sam Duncan) who has been hospitalised with what seems to be a form of shell shock. Seemingly quiet, his trauma hints at the darker cost of war that the two younger sailors have yet to experience. Promises of whole pineapple gift baskets and attending St Kilda dances upon his release helps lift the lost friend’s spirits a little, Keith’s caring nature unable to anything less than offer his upmost to turn his friend’s life back around.
“All’s fair in love and war”, as the saying goes, and when the newly formed relationships are tested, it costs each of them to rise above their weaknesses, put aside hurts and stand together in victory; both in the Pacific, and inside their own hearts.
Produced in celebration of several major local and national historical anniversaries, Young & Jackson is, in essence, a ribald delight. Equal parts bawdy, charming, mischievous, and heartfelt, this self referential comedy brings to life what are the best things about the representation of Australian war-time attitudes – being able to push ourselves past our perceived boundaries, our wounds and our bruised pride and do what is right for those around us, with a smile on our face and a song in our hearts. Using comedy to deflect a broken heart or spirit, each of the lively, well rounded characters that flit and flirt around the space, hiding a darker deeper part of themselves in their interactions with each other (and the audience). Alcoholism, sexual confusion, control issues, illegally activities and interracial tensions are subverted through the puckish lens of both Reid’s words and Harrison’s direction.
Successfully utilising old-fashioned revue and vaudevillian techniques, the audience is invited to be both observer and participant. Seated at small round pub tables (complete with a jug of lemon squash, cardboard coaster and a bottle of beer) in the centre of the space, with staging on three sides, the actors weave in, out and around the tables as skilfully as they weave the emotions of their watchers. The often suggestively indecorous physical comedy sets the lively pace for the piece, with the two seamen’s adventures in finding love (or simple physical release, really) and onstage fame bringing more of the lion’s share of laughs. Counter to that, is the wonderful moments of stillness – where the harsh realities of war (the death and blood and mental wounds that never truly heal) are given the honour they deserve. The touching dialogue of the late Reid is granted the same quiet dignity that its subject matter so wholeheartedly requires and the actors fall into those moments as easily and skilfully as the loud ones.
The cast are anchored by the two wonderfully dichotomous leads and their equally as vastly different characters. Cousins’ brings a worldliness and deep compassion to his silently paternal and deeply torn Keith, whereas Machin’s youthful exuberance and social naivety helps layer their interactions with a stirring polarity. While months apart in age, they are worlds apart in maturity, with Keith’s dedication to others and doing what’s right leaves his thoughts constantly drifting to past and future roads, while Jimmy’s self orientation keeps him stuck firmly in the here and now. Duncan’s damaged but firm Les and Scawthorn’s equally so Lorna round out the talented quartet, and there is not one weak link among them.
Another highlight of the night was the staging elements that edge the studio space – two raised platforms either side of the space representing the three sailor’s temporary bunks (hospital and hotel), and a faithful recreation of the Young & Jackson’s bar at the back, complete with the hotel’s famous Chloe portrait hung above, bring a great authenticity to the performance. Each part of the staging is decked out with an astonishing and delightful period accuracy; from door handles to toothbrushes, to sailor suits and wrist watches, photo frames and 7 ounce beer glasses, these vintage touches really help build the world of the characters and bring us into their story with an enjoyable aplomb.
If I had one or two (very minor) quibbles with the night it is that while the seating brings a delightfully atmospheric touch, it’s a lengthy and cumbersome process which caused major delays, which I am sure can be rectified with time. Also the sailor suits worn by the actors are heavy creased with fold lines (especially the pants), which belies, from what I can only assume, is a very proud military heritage of being very neatly outfitted. But as I said, these are very minor foibles in an otherwise extremely enjoyable outing.
Ultimately,Young & Jackson is a triumphant delight, another piece of Australian theatre that builds on our traditions, and brings a new, brilliant facet to a much beloved and adored work.