Two plays in two nights, both older works, both leaving me with very different impressions...

Robert Chesley's two-man play
Jerker - A Pornographic Elegy with Redeeming Social Values made its
controversial debut as a radio play in August 1986, and was staged at Hollywood's Celebration Theatre later that same year.
This new production for Melbourne's
Midsumma Festival at
Gasworks Arts Park opened on Thursday night, and is directed by Gary Abrahams, on a set consisting of two closely nestled single beds and their attendant lamps and telephones, with sound design by Kelly Ryall, lighting by Danny Pettingill, and costumes by Micka Agosta (who was also the costume designer for
Holding the Man).
The play's
full title, which is not used here, is also a deft summary of its plot:
Jerker or The Helping Hand, A Pornographic Elegy with Redeeming Social Value and A Hymn to the Queer Men of San Francisco in Twenty Telephone Calls, Many of them Dirty.
In brief, Chesley's play is a love story between two men who never meet, played out over a series of telephone calls that start out as phone-sex but end up as frank and heartfelt exchanges about life, loss, intimacy and desire.
It's a fascinating period piece, capturing the response of gay men on the front line of a viral war in the first, terrifying years of the AIDS pandemic, when the young and the beautiful were dying in the thousands in the gay mecca of San Francisco, and the survivors were exploring ways to express their desire safely and securely.
In many ways, the legacy of that response is with us still today, in the cybersex that thousands of gay and bi men have every day and night around the world thanks to Manhunt, Gaydar, Gay.com and the many sites like them.
J.R. (played by the director, Abrahams) initiates the calls to Bert (Russ Pirie), which start out explicit and end up heartfelt. Although frank, funny and raunchy at times, the play's progression into an isolated intimacy is rapid, and I soon found myself hooked; hoping its characters would meet up to continue their revelations in person.
At its heart, the play is about a fight for survival by the newly emerged gay culture which flowered in the 1970s: a fight for survival, a fight against fear, and a fight
for legitimacy. As Bert says, as he contemplates what gay men of his generation were losing due to the impact of AIDS:
[E]veryone's putting it down nowadays. "The party's over! The party's over!" Well, fuck it all, no! That wasn't just a party! It was more: a lot more, at least to some of us, and it was connected to other parts of our lives, deep parts, deep connections.... For me, for a lot of guys, it was...living; and it was loving.... And I don't regret a single moment of it: not one.... It was love. And...a virus can't change that; can't change that fact.
That fight for survival is embodied by the character of J.R., who reveals himself, at one point, to be documenting the lives of his peers; and by the simple fact that we're watching this play being re-staged, 23 years after its debut, says to me that it's a fight that we won, though not without great losses.
This production of
Jerker is not perfect, with the staging feeling at time restricted, due to the necessity of the actors having to share a confined space but never - or almost never - coming together. (They do cum together, however - numerous times). Some will find elements of the script, such as a fantasy about consensual incest, confronting; and others may question the plot's acute lack of conflict, thinking it drains the work of drama, but for me the drama of
Jerker comes from knowing the world its characters live in and are responding to.
The opening night performances didn't seem to quite hit the emotional mark they were aspiring to, but the actors came close, which suggests that this play will strengthen as the season progresses; and with a one-hour running time it certainly didn't outstay its welcome.
Jerker - A Pornographic Elegy with Redeeming Social Values at Gasworks Arts Park until February 7.
* * *

Kenneth Lonergan's
This Is Our Youth is the debut production for a new Melbourne theatre company,
Inside Job Productions. Directed by Nicholas Pollock, it stars Ashley Zukerman, Nicole da Silva and Ben Geurens (pictured left to right; photo by Pia Johnson). The impressive if ostentatious set is designed by Andrew Bailey, with lighting by Govin Ruben, sound by Robert Stewart and costumes by Mel Page.
Set in 1982, at the dawn of the Reagan era in the somewhat squalid New York apartment of the 21 year old slacker Dennis Ziegler,
This Is Our Youth focuses on the interactions between Ziegler (Guerens), his 19 year old buddy Warren (Zukerman) and Jessica (da Silva) a friend of Ziegler's girlfriend with whom Warren is enamoured.
Warren turns up on Dennis' doorstep having been kicked out of home by his wealthy father, from whom he's just stolen $15,000. Bickering and bantering, the pair decide to buy a large sum of cocaine and invite a few girls over, introducing Jessica to this story about college drop-outs who are reacting against their parent's values but caught up in the 'greed is good' mentality of the excessive 80s.
It's not a play I especially enjoyed, though I suspect I would have a more positive reaction to a more competent production.
Accents were inconsistent among the cast, ranging from solid to virtually non existent - a fault which especially irked my companion on the night, though not something I was so bothered by, as I'd rather the actors focused on acting than their accents; I've seen too many productions where the necessity of maintaining an accent drained the passion from a performance.
As Dennis, Ben Geurens tries too hard. The character is supposed to be unlikeable, a schoolyard bully discovering that his tactics are not so effective in the real world, but Geurens' swaggering came over as brittle and unconvincing, and the dynamic between he and Ashley Zukerman felt contrived. Gearing down his performance a notch or two would have benefitted the production.
Zukerman flowered, however, once Nicole da Silva came on the scene. While he is evidently a far stronger actor than her, the chemistry between the pair brought the script to life, although a scene after interval between them that should have been downplayed was unfortunately not reigned in by director Nicholas Pollock, to the play's detriment.
Pre-interval, thanks to Zukerman and da Silva, I'd actually started to like this production. Afterwards, due to a combination of factors, I found it increasingly difficult to find much I liked about this production.
Subtlety and stillness would have helped this play find its feet; as it is, the manic pace Pollock has imposed works against the script and the story.
This Is Our Youth is on at 45 Downstairs until Sunday February 1.