THE KISS
With all the charming conceit of a parlour game but unfortunately with not quite as many cards up its sleeve, The Kiss is a four-part canvass of short stories about tender or not-so-tender caresses. From Guy de Maupassant’s sexual politics to Chekhov’s famed hapless soldier and his stolen kiss, director Susanna Dowling plays them all word for word and straight as a lesson learnt at Sunday School.
On a tiny wooden stage, after a tantalising slideshow of iconic trysts from the silver screen, an Aunt Collette (Rita Kalnejais) in a curious period costume imparts to the audience the necessary wisdom, “Do you know whence comes our real power? From the kiss, the kiss alone! When we know how to hold out and give up our lips we can become queens.” Henceforth, no one heeds her warning.
In Peter Goldsworthy’s sad tale of two Australian teenagers (Steve Rodgers and Yalin Ozucelik) whose rambunctious night goes terribly wrong, we see the most tender kiss of the night: one of death. This is the most believable segment – particularly thanks to some wonderful soundwork – despite done while swinging from the roof in jocks.
After intermission we see Kate Chopin’s snaky little Regency romance and then the piece de resistance, the Chekhov, again played in full costume with not a word left out, whether it of horse formations or the rustle of skirts.
In each written incarnation, the kiss is one of hope, connection, yearning, power, or pure bodily need and desperation. Although attacked with admirable gusto, when brought to the stage The Kiss was more charade than the real deal.
Until Jun 5, Belvoir St Downstairs, 25 Belvoir St, Surry Hills, 9699 3444, belvoir.com.au
