Circa's A Shortcut to Happiness
By Sharon Ellis
April 16, 2012
Click for big version.
A Shortcut to Happiness at Circa is a light laughing romantic romp with wonderful dancing well-chosen recorded music and
eight attractive characters.
Natasha is a Russian migrant to New Zealand. Her English is not good and she cannot teach music as she was trained to do
so finds work as a house cleaner. The play starts with her getting ready to teach a folk dancing class. It is a Saturday
night and she is competing with a rugby match. The first arrival is Ned a kindly retired widower who gives some advice
on better timing, better advertising, and shrewd pricing. Held on a weeknight with a special price for holders of the
SuperGold the dancing class takes off and Roger Hall shas a play for us.
The SuperGold card holders include three women in search of men. There is tryhard lonely Coral who is getting desperate
but making the best of it. Married matchmaker Janet looking for a new man for her recently widowed friend Laura. And
then there is a retired couple, they have each other and are in pursuit of new horizons, folk dancing, is just one of
their current interests.
Possibly A Shortcut to Happiness is the best Hall play yet, not because the customary vacant clichéd one liners are
getting better, not because the smart-arse swipes at local mores hit their targets with more punch, and not because
there is greater skill in the use of that good old four letter word that brings the guaranteed instant laugh. Be assured
those features are there, the afficionados would not stand for subtle wit or anarchic farce. But it is very nearly a
play of substance and it is certainly carried along by a clever idea. The theme is as light as a pas de chat, the
romance is an Essie Summers bagatelle and as a shortcut to happiness it hits the mark.
It’s the dancing that stars. Choreographer Sacha Copland makes miracles with a cast who until now have not been known
for their nimbleness on their toes. The dancing is wonderful and they all do it.
As Natasha, Elena Stejko is delicious, and so she should be, the publicity tells us the part was written with research
input from her. She glitters and sparkles like an exotic pin up. Ray is besotted, Ned knows she is beyond his reach and
Sebastian has his selfish way with her.
Peter Hayden’s Ned is just right. He is twinkly, warm, loveable and true to the recently retired, recently widowed chap
as written. He creates a core of secure believability.
The trio of hunters Jane Waddell, Catherine Downes and Donna Akersten were good on the dancing business but much was
demanded of them. Without witty pithy words to help they failed to spark off each other. It was almost curtain call
before a tiny hint of Akersten wickedness peeped through.
Carmel McGlone nearly steals the show. She creates a Bev who is pure McGlone magic. She dances with a wild abandoned
gawky verve and it must be said with considerable skill and she stalks flounces and flutters her sweet submissive silent
husband back and forth across the stage in her own ambitiously independent way. Bev and Ray don’t actually make it to
the inner circle until the vodka and samovar at the end and what an entry they make.
The two scene set uses a revolve to strong effect moving backwards and forwards between a bleak church hall and Ned’s
cleaned and tidied and ever so tasteful apartment. Surely Ned would have better taste in art and surely a dealer gallery
would lend Circa some more satisfactory piece for this sensitive man about town to live with.
Circa says of itself that it maintains a connection between artists and audience. It does this and more in creating a
welcoming friendly place to meet, pick up tickets and get into the mood. Saturday evening at Circa is indeed a shortcut
to happiness.
ENDS