Hallelujah! This comic take on the creation of Handel’s Messiah hits just the right note

The day before seeing Joyful Noise, I attended a funeral in an Anglican church for a dear friend who was an atheist, and the vicar handled the dichotomy with commendable wit and nuance. Georg Friedrich Händel, by contrast, was allowed precious little nuance by the Church of England when creating his Messiah, among the greatest artistic glorifications of their very own God. The bishops thought it blasphemous, and tried to have it banned.

US playwright Tim Slover’s 1998 play (now being adapted into a film starring Anthony Hopkins) creeps up on you as you adjust to a certain archness of tone mingling with comedy and high-stakes drama. And, at first, this Madeleine Stedman production (for Joining the Dots Theatre) struggled to hit exactly the right notes – not helped by nerves and variable projection. But then it settled, settled more, and steadily rose in confidence and quality, until one almost wanted to cry “Hallelujah!” – well before the story reached that bit.

The numerous intersecting plots are essentially historical, including soprano Susannah Cibber’s reputation being trashed by a case of adultery orchestrated by her abusive husband. Then there’s artistic bickering between Handel and his librettist, Charles Jennens, and between Cibber and rival soprano Kitty Clive; court wrangling between King George II and Bishop Egerton, and between the king and Handel; open warfare between Egerton and Handel. But the squabbles are all leavened with Slover’s fine line in humour.

Nicholas Papademetriou pitches his Handel perfectly, so the tetchiness and stubbornness are balanced by glimpses of warmth and wit, just as the jobbing composer’s pragmatism is balanced by intimations of a soaring creative spirit.

The ever-consistent Christopher Stollery brings presence and authority to King George, and effortlessly finds the truth in Slover’s sometimes heightened language. Angela Johnston is a riot as the cockney actor/singer Kitty, who enacts Desdemona’s death scene for Handel by way of audition, and who has the street cunning to manoeuvre her way to the top of a savagely competitive profession.

Matthew Abotomey stays just on the right side of overcooking Bishop Egerton’s manipulativeness, driven by a zeal to keep God locked in the cathedrals – far from the low places where operas and oratorios are performed. Mason Phoumirath’s Jennens is another zealot, determined that Messiah should be done his way rather than Handel’s, while also denying the House of Hanover as the realm’s legitimate royalty.

Laila Chesterman was initially too soft as the put-upon Susannah, but built her way into a performance that won our sympathy. Lloyd Allison-Smith (Handel’s secretary) and Alison Chambers (Handel’s biggest fan) also had their chances to shine in the smaller roles.

Stedman’s direction was replete with light comic flourishes, and it was just refreshing to see a play with no overt agenda. The fact that Christ was despised and rejected was what resonated with a worn-down Handel, and allowed him to converse with divinity.

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City Recital Hall, September 10

Before they disbanded in 2006 after the death of singer-songwriter Grant McLennan, Brisbane’s the Go-Betweens never achieved much beyond cult status.

But the indie-rock band, co-founded by literate, arty outsiders McLennan and Robert Forster, were special enough that they cultivated a lovingly devoted fan base of like-minded literate, arty outsiders.

Those fans, whose devotion has carried over to Forster’s solo career, can be found not just inside the City Recital Hall this evening but also in the foyer (Forster’s accountant brother Tony, whom we’re told is living his rock’n’roll dream by manning the merch stand) and on stage.

The Greek Theatre, September 10, until September 19

The day before seeing Joyful Noise, I attended a funeral in an Anglican church for a dear friend who was an atheist, and the vicar handled the dichotomy with commendable wit and nuance. Georg Friedrich Händel, by contrast, was allowed precious little nuance by the Church of England when creating his Messiah, among the greatest artistic glorifications of their very own God. The bishops thought it blasphemous, and tried to have it banned.

US playwright Tim Slover’s 1998 play (now being adapted into a film starring Anthony Hopkins) creeps up on you as you adjust to a certain archness of tone mingling with comedy and high-stakes drama. And, at first, this Madeleine Stedman production (for Joining the Dots Theatre) struggled to hit exactly the right notes – not helped by nerves and variable projection. But then it settled, settled more, and steadily rose in confidence and quality, until one almost wanted to cry “Hallelujah!” – well before the story reached that bit.

The numerous intersecting plots are essentially historical, including soprano Susannah Cibber’s reputation being trashed by a case of adultery orchestrated by her abusive husband. Then there’s artistic bickering between Handel and his librettist, Charles Jennens, and between Cibber and rival soprano Kitty Clive; court wrangling between King George II and Bishop Egerton, and between the king and Handel; open warfare between Egerton and Handel. But the squabbles are all leavened with Slover’s fine line in humour.