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 | Barmaids Director: Gary Down Dunstan Playhouse, Season closed  The opening scene of 'Barmaids' finds henna-haired and tartily attired Nancy (Valerie Bader) arriving at The Arms Hotel just prior to 10am for a shift. Weighing heavily on her mind is the uncertainty of her job at the blue-collar portside pub that she's worked at for over twenty years. It's recently been taken over by a syndicate of accountants who have no idea how to run a hotel, especially the Arms, where she and her co-worker, the uptight and prim Val (Genevieve Picot), not only serve drinks to their loyal wharfie patrons but also act as the men's sole female companionship outside their dull marriages. "If the patrons wanted a sour face they'd go home for a drink," states Nancy as part of her opening spiel. This speech also serves as a way to introduce Val and Nancy's plight to the audience. They take no shit from anyone, but this time the women are scared: they really don't know any other life outside of this world. The Arms is simply, but effectively, set out before the audience: a fully functional bar modestly boasting a couple of beer taps, a few shelves of spirits and a blackboard-cum-photo display where each week a Polaroid of yet another patron is added as the "Arsehole Of The Week". There's also a few barstools shrouded with sheets around the room, and to the left of the stage is a karaoke machine. This is, along with the introduction of skimpily-dressed young bar staff, a part of the new owners' plans to modernise the hotel. It also serves throughout the play as a way to further illustrate Nancy's romantic troubles, as well as an excuse to drag a few audience members up for a song. 10 o'clock, and Val arrives for work; the sheets from the stools are removed to reveal some daggily dressed dummies to depict some of their more enduring customers. Set in the mid-eighties, the scariest thing about the premise of 'Barmaids' is how close to home are the issues it depicts, what with Bonsai Johnnie's current Workplace Agreement proposals and all. Val and Nancy exchange views on these issues, as well as others: their own mid-life crises, the running of the bar, and the sometimes-troublesome patrons. Their colourful banter is directed not only at each other, but also the audience and dummies, which keeps the play pacy and continually fresh -- no mean feat considering its two-and-half-hour time frame - as did the intermittent interaction with the audience members via the karaoke machine and the serving of actual beers to a lucky few. Never once did the play seem to drag, nor did you ever lose track of the pair's problems: in fact, by the end you even felt your anxiety matching theirs. Because of the play's overall wordiness and the issues addressed by writer Katherine Thomson, one could easily see how in lesser hands this production could have become messy, but cheers to Bader and Picot for keeping the action flowing beautifully. Time, gentlemen, please!  | |
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