Australia’s tallest and most ponderous male playwright, David Williamson, is all over the media like a bad fungal infection to announce his earlier statement with regard to his retirement was erroneous and he’s back with another play.
To which, the universal response must be – who gives a fat rat’s.
Dave-o produced some classics of the Australian stage, Don’s Party, The Removalists, which are still performed today. He then tarnished his reputation over the next twenty years or so by producing a string of stinkers; Sons of Cain, Soulmates, Influence, Amigos, Face to Face, The Great Man, that have rightly sunk without trace.
The other question is why on earth is why The Age producing not one but two puff pieces about this non-event?
My suspicion is that the paper has given up trying to attract younger readers, apart from some half-arsed blogs and is instead concentrating on the dwindling collection of ageing, cashed-up baby-boomers.
It would also explain the Age’s continuing fascination with that other talentless cunt, Barry Humphries.
The reality is Williamson will continue to churn out his mostly harmless, middle-brow shtick for theatre companies like MTC and STC, edging out more dangerous work from younger playwrights – so that's a positive.
And any development which means less work for Australia’s second-worst playwright, Hannie Rayson, is also to be welcomed.
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15 comments:
Anyone who hangs out with David Blaine and David Copperfield is a complete cunt, IMHO.
But I do like that thing he does with the raccoon. Very postmodern.
Raccoons are natural enemies of owls*, so they're OK in my book.
*This may not be true.
I think as a magician he probably avoids owls for fear of JK Rowling suing him for copyright infringement.
Love Humphries. Love him. I could listen to Sandy Stone for hours.
We'll have to agree to disagree on that one, Perseus.
But I do like that thing he does with the raccoon
I'm almost too afraid to ask, but only almost.
And I like Barry Humphries' work too, but I hear that as a human being he comes up wanting.
And I finally got worded up on the goings on. Spooky shit, to say the least.
Barry Humphries was last amusing c.1971.
Long time between drinks, I say.
It's high time Philip Nitsche had a seat on the Australia Council Board.
Good idea, Mr E.
Put the sad, old, fuckers down.
But INH, if they get rid of Williamson articles, how would you tell when one Helen Cunting Garner one starts, and the other ends?
[take 3]
David Williamson needs to take a leaf out of the book of his contempories. Alexander Buzo wrote a lot good stuff and then he died.Mortality ensures immortality to some degree. Barry Humphries needs to realise that short of being elected Pope, the long-term career prospects for an old man in a dress are kinda limited. My only regret in completing this post is my inability to cite a single example of someone who got out at the top of their game that didn't involve them choking on their own vomit. *shrugs.
[Typos courtesy Galafrey 2002 Shiraz].
Ah, but Dess - you can avoid Helen Cunting Garner most of the time.
Williamson is launching his new play with the full PR schmeer - posters, news interviews, the whole bit.
There will be no escape.
And Mr E - seriously dude, cut down the posting while on the sauce.
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