Onna No Honour - Thought Uncontrol - Darlinghurst Theatre Company - 10/08/05

Ethan Switch - Friday, 12 August 2005 - Print Version

Feeling a pinch of pain in the shins and suppressing a hiccough with skill, the doors to the Darlinghurst Theatre close with a late arrival. Uncertain as to where in the night the night actually begins, the audience are as clueless as the man on stage.

Onna No Honour centres around Len Anderson (Peter Rasmussen), a man learning to live and understand the wiles and ways of Japan. Starting off kindly enough, with laughs and pints of light humour throwing about, it quickly warms into stride by a minute into a definite curtain raise. His colleague, Ryuchi (Kengo Hasuo), offsets and counters the Western ways and brashness with Eastern ticks and balances that at times seems archetypical and generalised.

Time together develops their friendship as both let their guards down. It's when this happens and when Len prowls the nightclubs and bars for a better understanding of women that Onna No Honour pulls back and reveals just what's hiding underneath.

A strange world seeps slowly through the cracks in the spotlighting. The nature of humans and appearances standing naked at a full length mirror. On the beat of miscommunication and the language barrier that holds a natural sway, the lives of the cast are thrown into this discovery of self.

Smashing head first against each other, the traditions and notions of the old and modern eras. Yuko, Tani Yukiyoung, a feisty and carefree "modern girl," triggers most of the action as it falls headlong away from old times. Ryuchi, in his mind and golf club grip, holds steady at times when life wasn't as complex. Ryuchi and Yuko share a history, the truth behind their icy confrontations serving to reinforce the tone and underlying rhythm of Onna No Honour.

Fish and chips from a not-so-near and not-so-far away establishment hold a certain starch at the intermission. The break allowing for an air of breath as the contents oil and befoul the Drum Media braving duty. Battered though the fish, it still grants a nice, firm texture, shy of being rubbery. The chips on the other hand, fail to hold the heat and crunch of a fresh rescue. Disappointment is nothing.

Yutaka Izumihara, barely there in the first, takes up the second half and rams home marvelous performances. Slipping into various guises of character, he switches and turns effortlessly as each scenario dictates. One minute as a befuddled commuter; a karaoke master the next. Supporting cast member though he may be, it's his stunning presence which adds that extra level of scenery and depth to the stage. Izumihara knows karaoke well.

Props and furniture are bare and minimal. The most outlandish thing being the koto or stringed Japanese instrument holding the back corner. Shadows move with the incidental soundtrack as the cast work a breeze between scenes as they set up the next.

What starts out as a simple comedy dives inward and turns out a drama about deciphering the truth and perception behind reality and honesty. Honesty to oneself and the world around. Light and airy jokes are nervous the longer they hang around after the break. As the scenes deliver a darker look to too do the ribs and riffs.

Silences and the pulse of the koto mark against the near constant rabble of the night to carefully highlight moments of deep. Knowing Japanese might help in understanding some of the sly asides throughout the night. But it's not a deal breaker.

On the surface, Onna No Honour is a mere comedy. Look deeper and it's a world of enlightenment.

Ethan Switch