The Fall

The Fall

Albert Camus Theatre Festival

The Stork Hotel

Until 25 June

So there’s an Albert Camus Theatre Festival huh? Who knew? Camus was such a fun loving people person it just stands to reason to dedicate a theatre festival to him. And all those sullen, literate teenagers reading the outside and insisting that it’s called L’etranger… now they have a fringe all of their own.

I kid. Or do I? There were more appreciative old folk at The Stork than grumpy teenagers so what do I know? The sort of audience you expect to see at Montsalvat nodding arythmically to live jazz or chaining themselves to a tree outside The Bunyip wondering where the tractors are.

Mono-drama is a hard thing to review really. As has been famously said, there’s not much more than can happen beyond suicide, at least with two characters you can have a murder. I’d tell you who so famously said that but my internet’s bust so I can’t Google it to seem more well read than I am.

Drew Tingwell is very watchable, his rhythm and personality, his charm if you will, are what succeed in holding our attention. The script which he’s got to work with is so very clearly really a short story that Drew’s about all there is to keep us listening to what is, in essence, a truncated, one sided conversation.

I haven’t told you much about the plot, but if you’re familiar with the existentialists then you can guess. In brief, man is fake, man is confronted by cruel indifference of universe, man finds himself alone in bar in Amsterdam (or wherever) and hassles strangers with the story of how he became destitute. It’s a cheery winters tale.

Emma Valente’s light touch direction and Drew’s skill as a performer are what make The Fall bearable but I’m really not sold on the idea of the festival. Why not a Hunter S. Thompson festival. Or Chuck Palahniuk. That’s be a festival worth seeing.

Hmm… on second thoughts…