Who Killed My Dad? Part 1 – By Noel Anderson

When someone dies that’s close to you a piece of you dies with them. Death of a loved one can often throw up unanswered questions, things about that person and their life you never thought about when they were alive, or perhaps never even knew. What you are about to read is a true story. I know because I was there. This is my dad’s story, and also mine. It’s a chance for me to remember a winter in Sydney a long time gone.

‘Life is so unpredictable. Be grateful for every moment’

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‘This is a true story’

In mid 2016 I flew to Queensland to help my sister sort out funeral arrangements for my ailing mother. We’d spent most of the day with mum at the nursing home where she’d been moved after it became obvious she was becoming too much for my sister to handle. When I arrived, she was brighter than I had expected, frail but putting on a good show for us.  Mum always understood the importance of drama in day to day life, she’d lost none of her fight and could  still raise a little hell if need be.  I sat on her bed holding her hand, while mum bitched about one of the nursing staff, a girl she disliked.  ‘The bloody bitch’ mum called her repeatedly.  ‘I said to her, oh your nothing but a bloody bitch. I’m going to report you.’ I remember thinking mum knew her time was almost up, even though she behaved as if it was business as usual. She didn’t miss a trick, her blue eyes darting about, keeping a watchful eye over every move my sister and I made. Eventually, I snuck out and chatted with her doctor in privacy of the busy corridor. He confirmed the need for us to have mum’s funeral arrangements in place before I returned to Melbourne.  “There will be no next year for mum” he warned me. “Her body is shutting down. But, she’s got her sense of humour back, good and strong.” The doctor was right, mum had got her sense of humour back…and that ‘bloody bitch of a nurse’ was now part of mum’s morning routine.

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‘Do you know what’s written inside?’

Later that day, I’d just settled in at my sister’s place in Brisbane when out of the blue she handed me a cup of coffee and a selection of photos of mum singing when she was younger, then she added, “I thought you might want this, mum’s marriage certificate and this (she passed me a letter) do you know what’s written inside? You won’t believe it? Guess?” I had no idea what my sister was talking about, or why the mystery? “It’s mum’s statement, maybe for the police.  She wrote a letter about Andy (my dad but my sister’s stepfather), you know when he was murdered. What happened that night. Can you believe mum kept it?” Well, no I couldn’t.  It was a long time ago when dad died, I was ten years old in fact. My father’s death and ‘why it happened’ had been a mystery in our family for years, often discussed at family get togethers, but never with any clear answers. A piece of the puzzle was always missing. Indeed, mum if she knew more, wasn’t ever going to let on, not now, not ever!

‘Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced’

015c34257b662f8deb15521b4be7215a1b676a663eTHE FACTS OF LIFE  – To say my father was good man would be a lie. In my mind, I remember him in a series of flashbacks, moments of violent domestic mayhem and flashes of toothy smiles and kindness, followed by a gentle pat on the head. To say when he died of massive brain injuries to the head in Sydney, I wasn’t relieved, would be untrue. I was relieved, and so was mum probably. But, also to say that I didn’t feel the loss of my father’s love, would be a lie.  I clearly recall my mother sitting beside me in the car outside Canterbury Hospital and announcing dad’s death. “Your father passed away. He’s dead, son” she said, plain and simple. “They killed him. The bastards.” We sat huddled together in the car a long time, mum crying. Years later when I thought about dad, and his temperament, I thought he was just probably very unhappy with his lot in life.

In the years since dad’s murder that moment of ‘hugging mum’ in the car has played out in my mind on repeat. From that time on, my childhood was never going to be the same as any other kid in Australia, I thought. That one single moment of  death, relief and loss reshaped mum’s life and our future relationship. It brought us close together in my teenage years and introduced a communication shortcut between us, we were unflinching in our honesty when we chatted alone, but it distanced me from her a little when I grew up. It also changed my perception of how I would ‘live my life’ to this day. It made me strong, stronger than I might have been, if dad had lived a long prosperous life. If I had things to do then I would do them. Life was not a box of Fantales, the only thing you can be certain of for sure in life I decided at ten years old is death, our final destination. Later I would understand the beauty in the tragedy of my father’s death, and its affect on my creativity, but that beauty took a long time to find me.

‘Remember, time is frozen. No matter what, we can never get away from where we’ve been’

Who Killed My Father

‘Maybe I typed it?’

I opened my mum’s letter and sipped my coffee, I sat with my sister reading mum’s statement about that night, the night my father was beaten to death outside a Sydney hotel in a brawl.  There were many things that we both wondered about in mum’s statement. Why was he was beaten by the bouncers? What had he done? Why was I up so late? “Why weren’t you in bed Noel? 9pm? That’s very late for mum to have you up? Particularly in those days. Didn’t you have to go to school?” my sister said, looking puzzled.  “Maybe I was on holidays” I replied. Mum’s statement was typed, using a typewriter. This was before computers of course. “She couldn’t have typed this. Someone must have typed it for her,” my sister insisted. “Maybe I typed it,” I added. “I had this old green Olivetti typewriter. Do you remember? I was always writing. I think that’s my paper?’ (I clearly remember having a large pad of very fine writing paper at home). “Maybe she got me to do it for her?” “No Noel, you were just a little boy. She wouldn’t get you to do it,” my sister argued. I thought for a second, then added “Suzanne, I was always typing.”

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” 

Mum’s statement contained detailed information, told from her perspective, of the night my father was  beaten to a pulp on the property of a suburban hotel in Narwee, Sydney. In mum’s statement, she names the men, the bouncers employed by the hotel, that were there at the time of his death. She describes finding my father in the car park ‘laying in a pool of blood.’ She adds, a hotel punter drinking there at the time, asked the doorman ‘who has done this to this man?’ The hotel doorman responds with ‘we did, and if you don’t get away you’ll get the same.’ Mum also says later in her letter ‘that the punter (who she names) wanted to call the police but there wasn’t time as my husband was in a bad way.’ But, perhaps the biggest surprise was the affect finding mum’s statement had on me. The memories it brought back, memories of an unsolved mystery, set in the world of my childhood. In 1968 Australia had a population of just twelve million people. That year, Harold Holt the prime minister disappeared while swimming at Portsea, NGV opened its doors for the first time, and the pop group The Seekers  were named Australians of the Year. In my childhood there were no computers, or mobile phones with cameras, in 1968 people could get away with murder.

Like all murder mysteries my dad’s death has a surprise twist. Believe it or not, in a car near by on that cold winter’s night in Sydney years ago, innocently drinking a flavoured lemonade with a mate, watching a brawl taking place in the hotel carpark…was me. Unbeknownst to me, I sat watching my father being beaten unconscious at the local pub. He was in the middle of a circle of men, punches flying.  I didn’t see his face. A week later he was stone cold dead in Canterbury Hospital and I was without a dad. From that moment on, nothing would ever be the same for mum, dad or me. That night my childhood ended.

“Noel get into the back seat of the car. Go on. Your father been bashed. We have to get him to hospital. Move love. Oh, Jesus, there’s blood everywhere” mum said, many winters ago. 

PART 2 CONTINUES NEXT MONTH 

Who Killed My Father? The True Stories Collection

0142e6a9051f07056a782e01bfaa7b400dad61b338ABOUT THE AUTHOR – Noel has directed over 50 theatrical productions and worked in film and TV. He completed NIDA’s Playwright Studio in 1996 and studied directing in London and New York. Noel’s written work includes the play Andy Warhol’s Fifteen Minutes of Fame and the musical Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets. Noel believes in the power of music, pop art and Campbell’s Soup (thanks to Mr Warhol).  Learn more: Noel Anderson’s Website

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Actors Wanted for New Supernatural Thriller

ADCADFF8-E28E-48D6-937B-F381347E9846The Secrets Box is a new stage thriller in the style of classic thrillers like ‘Rosemary’s Baby’, ‘The Others’ and the ‘Cabinet of Dr Caligari.’ It is written by Craig Charter, dramaturgy by Kieran Carroll, and directed by Noel Anderson.

We are currently seeking experienced actors to fill three main roles – Anna Fischer, The Professor and Mrs Reese.

A Brief Synopsis

The Secrets Box is a story of spiritual resolution and the process of dying. Anna finds herself in a strange cat and mouse game under the watchful eye of the Professor and his companion Ms Reese. Trapped inside the Professors office, divulging her inner regrets, Anna must choose to either disregard her past mistakes or fight to rectify her life. The final twist leaves Anna clinging on for dear life and delivers to both advocates, the Professor and Ms Reese, the ultimate supernatural betrayal.

Character descriptions:

Anna Fisher:

For Anna Fisher, a life that shines brightly is soured with a series of bad decisions which spiral into depression resulting in a tormented soul. In the process of dying, a deeply conflicted Anna, is confronted by the opposing advocates of the afterlife. As they cast their respective spells of persuasion, Anna relives the pivotal events of her life. At first emotionally fragile, her guilt and regrets build into an inner strength and determination to change; but rather than choosing the options on offer, she takes the most difficult of paths, in fighting to stay alive, and facing her Earthly problems with renewed vigor.

The Professor:

Dramatic in movement and gestures, he often appears vague, but he’s soaking in every detail. His attire is formal but scruffy and his expressive facial features clearly expose his ever changing emotions. He’ll become engrossed in what might seem irrelevant details, which ends up proving his point on a much larger issue. As the supernatural advocate for reincarnation he conveys the virtues of resolution of the soul with charismatic wit and humor. He infuriates his adversary, Ms Reese, who as the opposing spiritual advocate, would love to hate him, but instead, their personalities blend to produce a potent chemistry.

Ms Reese:

Elegant and sophisticated, precise and focused she displays a joy in belittling any thoughts or opinions that differ even slightly from her own. Her immaculate attire highlights an attractive figure, which she uses to taunt the Professor whenever it suits her. She draws you in with her highly articulate and persuasive assertions, casting doubt on your most fundamental beliefs. And although undoubtedly efficient and calculating, she hides a softer side, which occasional can be seen within her dark humor, or beneath her aloof exterior, where she sparingly displays a begrudging respect for the Professor.

Actors Required

• We are looking for women between the ages of 25 – 40’s (Anna Fisher 25 years plus, Mrs Reese mid 30’s plus, requires an Irish accent)

•We are looking for men (The Professor) 30’s – 40’s. (The ability to do card tricks or slight of hand magic tricks would be an advantage…but not necessary to audition)

If you would like to audition for one of the three roles, please send your CV, contact details, links (showreel optional) and a recent photograph to director Noel Anderson at email address below. Auditions will be held on the 17th February.

Auditions email: audreypopmusical@yahoo.com.au

Actors – Flat Fee Payment offered plus %

Unfinished Symphony 

In my dreams I remember music more than people. If God was working today I’m convinced he’d be a professional musician.  Probably playing trumpet in a swing band in a dodgy RSL club in Yarraville or strumming a guitar and singing an old folk song by Peter, Paul and Mary about peace, love and hammers. I use to think friends and family are all we needed in life but now I don’t believe that, now I believe only in music.
I remember standing on Halsted Street in Chicago not knowing where to go. It had been a strange holiday, not what I had expected exactly. Most holidays aren’t. New York wasn’t what I thought I needed and neither was Montreal. I was searching for something that trip, something I’d lost in my late thirties. Something I wanted back. There’s this thing with travelling, it unravels the springs inside you, letting your soul loose and imagination free to roam uninhibited.

I recall standing on the footpath, city map in hand, wondering where I should go next.  A doctor I went to when I was on worker’s comp in Sydney told me once ‘when you are unsure of what to do in a given situation then best do nothing.’ For some reason I’ve never forgotten that, so I stood there holding the Chicago city map and didn’t move.
I don’t know at what point I started to drift, maybe it was the music coming from a nearby bar that had prompted it, but drift I did. My mind shifted into an altered state of absolute relaxation, a state of chemically free bliss brought on by the tribal beats in the music reverberating through my body, every beat teasing my eardrums. A commotion was happening in a tiny bar on Halsted, and my senses appeared to open up to the sensation.

As I stood there drifting, my boyhood was paraded candidly before my eyes in Technicolor flashbacks; an occasional sour note in grainy R.K.O black and white, thrown in for good measure. “You can change your future but you must never forget the past” I heard Grandma chuckle as she buttered a scone. I saw myself in my grandma’s backyard in St Peters playing with wooden pegs while my mum hung a week’s worth of family smalls on the clothesline.  There’s something about panties, bras and Y-fronts blowing in the breeze on a hot day that always makes me smile. I remembered the day I locked my mother and my grandma out of the house for eight hours, giggling the entire time until my uncle Kenny came home, jumped the fence and let them in. I was sent immediately to bed and given no pocket-money that week.

I drifted again, this time a few houses up the street to Christine’s place, where we sat on the lounge cuddling and I had my first kiss. I remember Christine taking my hand and placing it up and under her school uniform. It is those days of raspberry cordial, teenage dreams and family that come back whenever I hear a song by the Carpenters playing on the radio.  Those days, when I was younger.

Writer Noel Anderson

I dropped the map and bent down to pick it up. The music coming from inside the bar was very loud so I decided to go in. I walked straight up to the barman and ordered a Budweiser. There’s something about a DJ spinning records that has always fascinated me, to this day I can sit alone anywhere in the world and listen to a good DJ and never feel the need for social contact. I decided at some point this God given gift was to keep me safe and out of trouble. It gives me a sense of contentment that most people struggle to find in day to day life, foolish people who put their faith in loving someone else… but not me, I have put all my faith in music.

“Do you believe in God. I was watching you from the DJ box. You were enjoying my set. Do you believe in him?”  I didn’t answer. “Have I offended you or something? Maybe you think I should get back up there and just spin tracks. Do you live in Chicago?”
“I believe in music, nothing else” I responded. “I’ve tried believing in other things but it just doesn’t work. I’ve been let down by other things, people mostly I guess. I am never let down by music. So, I believe only in it these days. Does this make me a coward?” I asked him, finishing my Bud. “You know that’s a strange question for a DJ to be asking? So, what do you believe anyway?”

“I believe in America and Budweiser beer of course. First thing in the morning I always believe in a good coffee, strong black. I believe in God. He created music for everyone to enjoy, not just you. I gotta get back behind the deck. Nice chatting. Enjoy your flight.” He smiled a cheeky F.U. smile and left.  Enjoy your flight? How did he know that I wasn’t from Chicago? Must be my accent I decided. I ordered another beer at the bar and sat nearest to the stage right speaker.  I drank, listened to the music he was spinning and started to drift.

I was thirteen and living with my mum and stepdad. I had suggested our kitchen table for a sneaky game of poker while mum was out.  I remember dealing the deck of cards and smoking, feeling out of place surrounded by my neighbourhood friends. I tried my first and my last cigarette that day while mum was out shopping.  I nearly choked to death. Smoking was never going to work for me I decided. The music changed tempo, I drifted towards the sky through endless silver cloud and landed feet first at a set of gates with the sign Rainbow Depot hanging in midair. Inside the gates I could hear an orchestra warming up and walking towards me was the DJ from Chicago drinking a Bud. He pushed on the gates and stood open armed as if to say ‘Sing For Me.’

“I’m a tenor ” I confided clearing my throat and immediately started to sing Che Gelida Manina from La Boheme. I sang in a voice I’d never heard before, hitting notes I never dreamed I could hit. When I’d finished  we stood comfortable in our quiet time, much like lovers setting up house for the first time somewhere in a big city. He broke the silence with his strong Chicagoan accent.

“How well did you love?” he asked. I didn’t answer or wouldn’t.  Instead I fidgeted. “How well did you love my friend?” Still I didn’t answer preferring to get lost in the melody line of the music coming from the orchestra beyond the gates. “This is not a competition. At Rainbow Depot there is no right or wrong answer. There is no failure here, not in this place. There is only the symphony. Can you hear it?”  Indeed I could hear it, I have heard it all my life I thought, sometimes while doing the dishes as a kid with mum, occasionally while having sex, leading me closer to a place yet to be discovered.  “How well did you love?” he prompted again.

“Not very well I think mister DJ. Oh, there has been times I’ve done okay. But, at the end of the day, once the shit is left to settle and the band has gone home, I don’t think I’ve done well at all. But, if you compare me to other people I’ve done alright. Alright does sound a little underwhelming though. You said something about there being no comparison but that, I think, is a very idealistic position for  you to be taking and …” The DJ cut me off mid sentence. “Stop. I said this is NOT a competition. And, as a general rule there should be NO comparison. How well did you love is all I asked. It is the easiest of all questions, yet you stand in this safe place with no answer, only comparison. Tell me, what do you feel under your skin?” There was no getting out of it, no changing records, not even a murder on the dance floor could save me. I had to answer.

“Okay. I’ll tell you. Under my skin I believe not all people are created equal. I reckon there are a lot of really fucked up things happening today that most people aren’t aware of or even give a shit about. I stress. I think sometimes, not every day, but sometimes I think we are all doomed to die if the young generation is left in charge of the office, even just for five minutes… and I believe wholeheartedly in the power of chocolate to make you feel better after a break up. But, mostly mister DJ I believe in music and a God that can dance.”

He finished his Budweiser, turned to leave, stopped at the gates. “A God that can dance? Good on you, good-on-you. At least you’ve got something to hold tight, most don’t.” He did a little foxtrot and shut the gates.

How well did you love?

I was back inside the bar on Halsted Street, the bartender came over and asked if I wanted another Bud. I declined the offer and left. Outside I sat on the curb and listen to the rhythm in the music cut through the cold night air.  I sat for a long time alone not needing anyone, lost in the music. He was a good DJ I thought, taking me to places I’d only ever dreamed of. I waited until he’d finished his set, catching him off guard in the carpark as he packed albums into the boot of his car.

“How well did YOU love Mr DJ?” I asked him.  He looked up a little surprised but kept packing.  “Are YOU from Chicago?” I continued. Still no answer came. He shut the boot, got into his car, turned the keys in the ignition. The car radio came on, 98. 7 FM Chicago.  A symphony was playing.

“What’s that playing?” I asked. “That music, I recognise it.”
He looked me in the eyes, no one spoke for what felt like eternity and then…
“You can’t know it. It’s an unfinished symphony. Mine,” he confessed. “I’ve been working on it between gigs. It’s a work in progress, Woo Wap Da Bam. I started back in London when I lived near the Angel. It’s called The Symphony of…” But  before he had finished the sentence, he drove off.

In Melbourne I dream about Chicago often, when I close my eyes I hear his car engine idling through the walls of my St Kilda flat and I can just make out the unfinished symphony playing in the distance. It’s usually turns out to be nothing more than static from Barry’s TV set next door. Static that sounds like music to me. An unfinished symphony beckoning me to a bar on Halsted Street with a DJ spinning orchestral tracks at Rainbow Depot. How well did you love he’d asked? I don’t know how well I’ve done so far.  I tried my best I guess. What do I believe he smiled, looking up from the deck, as I shut my eyes. I believe I mustn’t compare. Well, at least I’ve learnt that.  In the end that’s gotta be worth something.

About the Author – Noel Anderson completed NIDA’s Playwright Studio and has directed over 50 theatrical productions and worked in film and TV.  Noel’s written work includes the plays Dark victory,  Andy Warhol’s Fifteen Minutes of Fame and the musical Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets. You can also subscribe to Noel’s YouTube Channel.  Other sites to follow: Twitter @Randyandy42 or Facebook or Instagram

Stage Fright or ‘I’ll have eggs with that!’

I’m never short on words but …

I am not someone who is ever short for words but recently at a performance of Love Kills 2017, currently playing in Collingwood, I had a minute or two when my mind emptied like a can of baked beans over a hot saucepan. I tried thinking hard but there was nothing but black! Naturally I bumbled on pretending to talk to Kylie Minogue, which seemed to go down alright but didn’t pull me out of the jam or the blankness of my mind. So, I tried cracking a few jokes about bisexuality (always goes down a treat) and generally shamelessly showing off until, at last the my script ‘Confide in Me’ magically popped back into my head. I remember thinking at the time, in those few minutes, as I looked into the audiences smiling faces, ‘Oh God, this what they came for, a live experience and I am givin’ it to them in abundance’.

I’ll take this moment to thank everyone who sent me private messages praising the show, the acting, the writing and my direction, I really appreciate everyone’s blessing.

Cinema of cause is all planned, but not live theatre, anything can happen.  The very nature of doing a live show is that the audience in general are rooting for you and I counted on that.  Recently at an MTC show I went to see, Colin Friels had to ask for a prompt several times, so it can happen to the best of’em.

However thinking back, somewhere in my speech about ‘vaginas and penises’ (I’m all class) I got loss in my own fantasy and started constructing a new ending to my very own work, then when I realised what I was doing blocked it. Stage fright or stage block? Not sure… I went home after the performance, stripped off and jumped in bed and pondered what would have happened had I just let my imagination continue. Where would my improvised ‘tale of love’ have ended? Would it still have the same meaning? And more importantly would the audience have enjoyed the new improvised script with me free falling, more than the scripted one?

The next morning I got up and  had bacon and eggs for breakfast, with beans, still thinking about that moment when I realised I’d fallen into my own storyline, just like Alice does, in Alice in Wonderland, a dreamtime state where anything could have happen…if only I had trusted more. But, of course I didn’t and I don’t. Trust is something that sadly disappears at the end of relationships also.

Leading a company of players and putting on a show where you play four roles director/writer/producer/performer is not the easiest job in the world, you get tired and at times you just want to go to sleep, curl up. But, of course you can’t, much like the last days of a relationship, you sense a battle is nearing, and the only thing you can think to do is…JUMP!

The cast for Love Kills 2017 features Caroline Ferguson (direct from La Mama’s 2017 hit The Privatization of Ward 9B), Graham Murray (Glitch 2 & Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries), Carissa McAllen (Paper Giants: Magazine Wars), Stephanie Osztreicher, Lourdes Zamanillo, Ros Lewis, Geoff Stuart (Melb Writer’s Social Group) and Noel Anderson performing his Kylie Minogue pop inspired breakup piece ‘Confide in Me.’

Love Kills 2017 is on until the 23rd September.

Tickets via www.melbournefringe.com.au or (03) 9660 9666

Love Kills 2017 only at Melb Fringe

Love Kills 2017 – Caz Reitop’s Dirty Secrets (best venue winner) – 80 Smith St, Collingwood. 14th – 23rd Sept, 2017. Performance Times: Wed – Thurs 7pm, Friday 6pm, Sat 5.30pm.  Seven performances only (bookings essential) 14th Sept Preview $20 / all other performances $25. Warning adult themes and strong language.

Love Kills 2017 on Facebook

Interviews & Contact Info: noel_anderson@y7mail.com or (03) 90770781 (leave a message)

 

 

Adult’s Only – LOVE KILLS 2017 – Reviewers Online PRESS RELEASE

Have you ever been in love? Did it end well? Maybe you’ve had a fling in Bali that you can’t forget or fantasized about an ex lover while being massaged by a hunky masseur?
‘Do all breakups make you feel like you’ve been reassigned?’
Love Kills 2017 is the new show devised and directed by Noel Anderson (Andy Warhol’s Fifteen of Fame, TV series ‘NEXT’ season 1 & 2, ‘Travellers in Time’ music video) that dares to tell the truth about love, warts and all.

‘Love means never saying sorry’
Nine of Melbourne’s best indie writers and lonely hearts, and seven performers will bring their considerable experience and clout to the Melbourne Fringe 2017 with a performance on Smith Street in Collingwood, that will make you laugh, question love (the whole damn thing) and entertain.
‘To be honest it wasn’t the best sex in my life’
“Love is something we’ve all gotten wrong a couple times, right?” Anderson said. “Love Kills 2017 looks at those moments in our love life when everything goes bloody pear-shaped, romance is dead and we end up a lovesick mess.”
‘He kisses me, I let him embrace me and two days later we emerge from the bedroom, hungry and reenergised’
Leading the team of writers for Love Kills 2017 is Melbourne indie theatre stalwart, Kieran Carroll (Sons of Sun – Sydney Opera House, A Fitzroy Romance – La Mama and The Truth is Longer Than a Lie published by Black Pepper Press ), along with Tracie Lark, Ros Lewis, Marion Roberts,  Melaka Stanash, Ursula Teresa Kolecki, Lourdes Zamanillo, Geoff Stuart, Melissa Collins and Noel Anderson.
‘I married her. At 21 we moved into a bedsit in West Melbourne. I won’t pretend that monogamy wasn’t an issue’

‘A Kylie Minogue pop inspired breakup piece’
The cast for Love Kills 2017 features Caroline Ferguson (direct from La Mama’s 2017 hit The Privatization of Ward 9B), Graham Murray (Glitch 2 & Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries), Carissa McAllen (Paper Giants: Magazine Wars), Stephanie Osztreicher, Lourdes Zamanillo, Ros Lewis and Noel Anderson performing his Kylie Minogue pop inspired breakup piece ‘Confide in Me.’
‘I stand before you ready to share my secrets’
The Love Kills 2017 team know the truth about love is out there somewhere in Collingwood this September, and with a little help from you they are determined to find it! Only @melbfringe.  See you at there! #lovekills2017 #confideinme #randyandy42
Tickets via http://www.melbournefringe.com.au or (03) 9660 9666

Love Kills 2017 only at Melb Fringe
Love Kills 2017 – Caz Reitop’s Dirty Secrets (best venue winner) – 80 Smith St, Collingwood. 14th – 23rd Sept, 2017. Performance Times: Wed – Thurs 7pm, Friday 6pm, Sat 5.30pm.  Seven performances only (bookings essential) 14th Sept Preview $20 / all other performances $25. Warning adult themes and strong language.
Love Kills 2017 on Facebook
DEAR PRESS: For opening night comps & Interviews please contact:: Info: noel_anderson@y7mail.com or (03) 90770781 (leave a message – your name, company and don’t forget, contact details)
‘Checkout our Love Kills 2017 trailer below and remember to subscribe to my YouTube Channel. I can’t wait for you to see LOVE KILLS the webseries’ – Love always Noel xxx

Subscribe – Noel Anderson’s YouTube Channel

 

Love Kills 2017 @melbfringe

Have you ever been in love? Did it end well? Maybe you’ve had a fling in Bali that you can’t forget or fantasized about an ex lover while being massaged by a hunky masseur?

‘Do all breakups make you feel like you’ve been reassigned?’

Love Kills 2017 is the new show devised and directed by Noel Anderson (Andy Warhol’s Fifteen of Fame, TV series ‘NEXT’ season 1 & 2, ‘Travellers in Time’ music video) that dares to tell the truth about love, warts and all.

‘Love means never saying sorry’

Nine of Melbourne’s best indie writers and lonely hearts, and seven performers will bring their considerable experience and clout to the Melbourne Fringe 2017 with a performance on Smith Street in Collingwood, that will make you laugh, question love (the whole damn thing) and entertain.

‘To be honest it wasn’t the best sex in my life’

“Love is something we’ve all gotten wrong a couple times, right?” Anderson said. “Love Kills 2017 looks at those moments in our love life when everything goes bloody pear-shaped, romance is dead and we end up a lovesick mess.”

‘He kisses me, I let him embrace me and two days later we emerge from the bedroom, hungry and reenergised’

Leading the team of writers for Love Kills 2017 is Melbourne indie theatre stalwart, Kieran Carroll (Sons of Sun – Sydney Opera House, A Fitzroy Romance – La Mama and The Truth is Longer Than a Lie published by Black Pepper Press ), along with Tracie Lark, Ros Lewis, Marion Roberts,  Melaka Stanash, Ursula Teresa Kolecki, Lourdes Zamanillo, Geoff Stuart, Melissa Collins and Noel Anderson.

‘I married her. At 21 we moved into a bedsit in West Melbourne. I won’t pretend that monogamy wasn’t an issue’

‘A Kylie Minogue pop inspired breakup piece’

The cast for Love Kills 2017 features Caroline Ferguson (direct from La Mama’s 2017 hit The Privatization of Ward 9B), Graham Murray (Glitch 2 & Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries), Carissa McAllen (Paper Giants: Magazine Wars), Stephanie Osztreicher, Lourdes Zamanillo, Ros Lewis and Noel Anderson performing his Kylie Minogue pop inspired breakup piece ‘Confide in Me.’

‘I stand before you ready to share my secrets’

The Love Kills 2017 team know the truth about love is out there somewhere in Collingwood this September, and with a little help from you they are determined to find it! Only @melbfringe.  See you at there! #lovekills2017 #confideinme #randyandy42

Tickets via www.melbournefringe.com.au or (03) 9660 9666

Love Kills 2017 only at Melb Fringe

Love Kills 2017 – Caz Reitop’s Dirty Secrets (best venue winner) – 80 Smith St, Collingwood. 14th – 23rd Sept, 2017. Performance Times: Wed – Thurs 7pm, Friday 6pm, Sat 5.30pm.  Seven performances only (bookings essential) 14th Sept Preview $20 / all other performances $25. Warning adult themes and strong language.

Love Kills 2017 on Facebook

Interviews & Contact Info: noel_anderson@y7mail.com or (03) 90770781 (leave a message)

‘Checkout our Love Kills 2017 trailer below and remember to subscribe to my YouTube Channel’ – Love always Noel xxx

 

 

Never Create An Aussie Musical Part 2 Or My Fair Lady VS Audrey Hepburn – what if?

I’m sitting in Father’s Office in Melbourne drinking a vodka, lime and soda waiting for a friend to arrive. She is seeing My Fair Lady at the Regent and is running late. While I wait my mind wanders, I sip my vodka, look at the view of the State Library of Victoria and ponder the fate of the great Australian  musical…

Once upon at time in London there was an English flower girl who wanted to become a lady. And, once upon a time at Flinders Street station, waiting for a train, stood an Australian girl with a pocketful of family issues, who dreams of looking like Audrey Hepburn, who coincidentally played the flower girl in the film version of Lerner and Loewe’s ‘My Fair Lady’.

My Fair Lady Program

My Fair Lady is the classic musical that came under fire recently at the annual Australian theatre awards, the Helpmann Awards. Was My Fair Lady really an Australian musical? It is after all 60 years old and set in England. Where are all the Australian stories?

The issue of lack of support for Australian musicals is nothing new, our awards often going to overseas artists and shows created elsewhere. Yes, we’ve heard this tune before so I won’t rehash this old melody line but the controversy about the lack of homegrown Aussie musical content at our award ceremonies got me thinking…what if?

What if Opera Australia and John Frost got together and instead of bringing the great Dame Julie Andrews out to Sydney to direct ‘My Fair Lady,’ they brought her to Melbourne instead to direct ‘Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets,’ which features the song ‘Travellers in time’, a real homegrown show … and what if, they invested the same amount of money and talent in AHAICOA would it be a sellout? (Let’s for now forget the brilliant idea someone had of getting Julie Andrews to direct the show that made her a star)

I reckon if Dame Julie directed AHAICOA instead of My Fair Lady it would indeed be a hit! Why? Because we have confidence in Dame Julie, we love her, we’ve supported her through her career and movies, if only Australian producers had confidence in our stories, what a wonderful world it could be.  In fact it would be ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.’

Travellers in Time on YouTube

Of course getting Dame Julie in to direct ‘AHAICOA’ opens up the same old can of worms doesn’t it? It puts an Aussie out of a job, that’s me, I would know first hand how Aussie theatre performers feel losing lead roles to imported overseas stars… but the question remains, could a relatively unknown musical, one that’s ready to burst onto a bigger stage be just as successful as My Fair Lady if given the same VIP treatment?

So what makes an Aussie musical? I mean should we consider ‘King Kong’, ‘Dusty’ or ‘Dream Lover’ as original Australian works? I’d argue ‘NO’ simply on the musical score, these are jukebox musicals created in Australia using pop tunes from the past (written mostly by overseas artists) with the odd newly created song to tie up loose story ends.

So what makes an original Australian musical? This is totally subjective, so you can agree or disagree. Here is my list.

1. It needs to be set in Australia. Maybe we could bend this rule a little and have the lead characters all Aussies but holidaying somewhere else, say in Paris. A musical set in Paris with Australian characters falling in love does sound romantic to me. I’d buy a ticket to hear that musical score. Of course we could just set it in any Australian city and be done with it!

2. The main character should be an outsider.  Well, it’s the Aussie way isn’t it? We root for the underdog.  I mean we’d root for the plain Jane girl from suburban Melbourne who dreams of being a movie star like Audrey Hepburn, just like we’d root for a bushranger decked in armour, taking on the law in a musical like NED.  So, I reckon Australians want an outsider leading their musicals.

3. The Aussie accent. Let’s call a spade a spade here mate, if there are no Aussie accents than she ain’t bloody true blue. So on’ya bike and bugger off, back to where ya came from, we’re a weird mob alright!

4. Original music score. Now this is really a no brainer, surely an Australian musical needs an original score created by Australians living somewhere in Fitzroy, Moonee Ponds or Carlton. If the songs are all written by some dude wearing a baseball cap and living dangerously on the edge in New York or L.A. I don’t think it can be called a ridgy didge Aussie music score.

On set – Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets’

Putting an Australian musical on in this country is tough, support minimal. It’s like going to bootcamp. Most theatre companies don’t accept unsolicited scripts, most funding bodies and development programs don’t support Aussie musicals (hard work right? Can’t blame them right?) and are run by arts officers who (there might be a few exceptions) have never produced or directed a musical or a play.  And, would never invest their own money into a show. The Australian musical journey is a lonely loveless aria, with moments of despair, bankruptcy and long nights of serious hair pulling and hard drinking to dull the pain. But, there is no giving up because it’s in our musical DNA as Australians to soldier on and occasionally shout out from the corner store ‘What About Me’.

Writer/Director Noel Anderson

Since its humble beginning at Chapel Off Chapel, during my 10 year musical journey working on ‘Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets’ I have grown to love Liz O’Sullivan the lead character, her Aussie quirks and her family, they feel like my family to me. Indeed my battle with depression and some of my own personal therapy sessions have ended up in the script, although AHAICOA book remains a work of four creative minds, with a firm guiding hand by me, the only director/writer in the writing team.

There are new Oz musicals on the horizon. These include Muriel’s Wedding, Melba and Eddie Perfect’s Vivid White but the future of the great Australian musical doesn’t look bright or ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ to me. The battle to be heard is still going on. It rages not in the state funded companies with musicals like Tim Finn’s ‘Ladies in Black’ but rather in the full-to-brim rehearsal spaces around the country, all paid by creative souls working casual jobs to support their art. The real Australian musical is out there in the burbs and backyard sheds, being polished, reworked, but who is listening?  Are you? Can these musicals be heard over the noise of Disney’s Aladdin?

Without our dedicated homegrown artists and self funded projects there would be very little Aussie musical content and very little work. Venues like Chapel in Melbourne and the Powerhouse in Brisbane would close. These music makers are our unsung heroes. What happens next musically is up to you Australia 🇦🇺  Australians artists are doing the hard yakka musically but are the Australian Institutions, funding bodies and producers just whistling the same old tunes?

Have a listen to ‘Travellers in Time’ one of the lead songs from the Aussie musical ‘Audrey Hepburn and I Consider Our Assets’. The music video has had over 10,000 Views. 🎶 I hope you enjoy it  😎