Fairfax Studio, Arts Centre Melbourne
Reviewed on September 20, 2011
Funny Girl Plays It Straight.
The best stand – up performers wear theatre’s twin masks both at once. Comedy balances precariously atop tragedy. Fused, the two generate lightning equilibrium and become the stuff of legend.
In his autobiography, Dirty Jokes and Beer, sitcom star, Drew Carey, revealed the secret shame of teenage molestation. Kathy Griffin’s own book, Official Book Club Selection, dealt with sibling violence.
Carol Burnett, in One More Time, wrote about growing up with two alcoholic parents. Then collaborating with her daughter, Carrie Hamilton, Burnett revisited her youth with the thinly – veiled autobiographic play, Hollywood Arms. In it, she confronted and washed away the hurt and despair in one full swoop.
Melbourne’s Rachel Berger is a popular household identity, both on national radio, TV, the Australian and international comedy circuits. After more than 20 years working on the scene, she too has fashioned a personal and powerful memoir. First staged at Carlton’s La Mama in 2008, Berger’s one – woman play returns home to Melbourne after a triumphant 2011 season touring Australia and regional Victoria.
Cheekily titled, Hold the Pickle pays loving and nostalgic tribute to her parents’ history, and their single – minded will to endure and escape war – torn Poland, Eventually, after dashing through Europe and Israel, they end up as the owners of a delicatessen on St Kilda’s colourful Acland St, sandwiched between the Monarch Bakery and iconic Cafe Scheherazade. Without a backyard of her own to play in, this street was to become Berger’s personal childhood playground.
Much in the style of Willy Russell’s brilliant, Educating Rita or Shirley Valentine, Berger’s story is also about an adult woman’s journey to place, identity and self – worth. How she looks back on growing up, understanding and accepting her parents’ past, slowly becomes the sum total of who she is, and who she chooses to be.
The show begins with the actress descending a small staircase.
She immediately starts by portraying a woman, her mother, Rose. With a thick European accent and almost still in her emotion, Mrs. Berger stands upright, wearing a long beige trench coat over an embroidered orange housedress.
In character, Berger describes how her young newlywed parents were captured by the German army, forced into pointless tasks and menial employment. By degrees, their living conditions quickly deteriorated until one day, Mr. Berger knew that the couple would need to escape if they stood any chance of survival.
One of the most powerful moments arrives early in the show.
Berger describes and acts out her parents’ process of hiding from the Nazis. For four hundred days they hid in a disused warehouse basement, shutting themselves in a cupboard under the stairs. Allowing the audience to concentrate entirely on the story, here, set and lighting design by Matthew Peckman is both simple yet at its most effective. With the auditorium fading into almost total darkness, a single shaft of light shines on Berger’s face, signifying her parents’ tense desperation.
This is not to say Rose’s character isn’t without a wry sense of humour, either.
When her husband, Marcus, has his arm blown off in the street by a bomb, Rose determinedly and resolutely rebuilds his self – worth and drive for life. This, she does by secretly breaking pieces of furniture and windows day by day around their small house, cajoling and arguing with him into fixing them.
The story follows them through Europe, first settling in the Melbourne suburb of Spotswood, then St Kilda.
Re-enacting ten characters from her story in all, Berger’s jump between them is seamless, sometimes juggling conversations between two or three at the same time. Berger, as herself in stand – up mode, is the comic glue that holds the narrative together. It is a clever device on her part that seemingly breaks the fourth wall with the audience, easily allowing them to embrace her quirky stories and anecdotes. This is the Rachel Berger we know and love.
In reality, this particular character becomes the show’s protagonist who observes and deconstructs pivotal moments from her life. From the shame of stealing lollies from her parents’ shop to bribe school bullies, to putting on her mother’s make – up when told not to, no family stone is left unturned. Another telling moment is the ritual of going away, where Rachel makes sure that everything is as she left it. Just in case she’s never coming back.
Jigsaw pieces like this slowly and finally form a fascinating and intimate portrait.
With her stories detailing the Australian immigrant experience, for 90 minutes Berger holds our attention wholly and completely. This is five star theatre at its best.
Image Source: Rachel Berger