‘I wish I could be as classy as that!’ an audience member exclaims as she enters the theatre. The cast of the play – Iddon Jones, Paul Shelford, Gabeen Khan and Andy Peart – sit in a circle, facing outwards. They laugh and chatter to themselves, watching the audience file in. They wear identical grey suits, white shirts, red ties and brown shoes. Their hair is slick and their smiles dazzling.

The play begins.

The actors narrate the story of Yuri, an immigrant, who is caught up in a whirlwind adventure led by native Englishman, Patrick. Remarkably, the story is performed with only four actors and three chairs. Without any set or other props, the actors use mime, accents, and impeccable physicality to bring to life a diverse range of characters. The actors are perfectly synchronised, except where Peart provides laughs by continuing just that little bit too long. Their gestures remind the audience that they are all Yuri, struggling to fit in to a culture unlike his own, trying on different personalities and demeanours.

The stand-out, perhaps, is Iddon Jones’ Allison, the girlfriend of Patrick and Yuri’s seductress. Jones’ exaggerated performance of the only female character is hilarious. He also shares the role of Yuri with Gabeen Khan, who has the lion’s share of Yuri’s lines. Patrick is predominately performed by Paul Shelford, whose blond hair and mastery of a superficial toffee-nosed English demeanour perfectly fits the character.

Poor Andy Peart receives all the worst roles. At the very start of the play, Shelford cuts off an eager Peart, stopping him from contributing to the narrative. He is cast as the old woman in the park and the skinhead in the bar. This injustice becomes apparent to all, however, when the swift and fluent swapping of characters is compromised. Jones, Shelford and Khan stop the play and wait for Peart to reluctantly take the shape of, first, a cherub statue precariously balanced upon a stool, then a Labrador adoringly stroked by its owner, and finally, decorative antlers in a hall. Whilst the other actors take turns at playing Patrick, Yuri, and a myriad of other characters, Peart provides a little comic relief. Though the whole play is laugh-out-loud funny, Peart’s hilarious interludes have nothing to do with the dark subject matter.

The themes of the play are unmistakable. Yuri, an educated and talented surgeon with only a basic grasp of English, immigrates to London, seeking a better life. He has prospects: a job interview at a large hospital. A miscommunication in a park leads him to Patrick – an apparently sympathetic and generous man. From the first introduction, the audience is clued in to his hypocrisy and racist stereotyping. But it can be passed off as simple naivety. The character manages to assume that Yuri is unskilled and stupid, call him a refugee and terrorist, and encourage a skin-head to beat him up. And that’s only the beginning.

The conflict between Patrick and his idea of Yuri culminates with their falling out. Patrick exclaims, ‘All I’ve done . . . The tolerance!’ Yuri is then kidnapped by skinheads, escapes through a rather unlikely sequence of events, and tracks Patrick down to exact his revenge. The play ends happily with Yuri landing a cleaning job at the hospital and Patrick going about his life as before.

The driving plot may be an unbelievable farce, but the ideas that underpin it are serious. Ben Woolf’s script is a work of genius. It balances extreme racism and social injustice with a hilarious four-person ensemble. Although the audience anticipates the explosion of hate hidden behind an act of tolerance, the wait is thoroughly enjoyable.

Angry Young Man runs until March 17 at The Studio, Holden Street Theatres.

A young nun, Agnes, is accused of murdering her newborn baby. Psychiatrist Dr. Martha Livingstone is appointed by the court to assess her sanity before the trial. When obsession takes over, Martha refuses to stop until she uncovers the truth about the murder. All the while, the Mother Superior attempts to shield Agnes from the persistent psychiatrist.

What develops is a compelling clash between science and religion. The women use vastly different beliefs in their attempts to help Agnes. Martha believes in facing the truth and the dark secrets locked away in Agnes’ subconscious. Mother Superior shelters Agnes, insisting that ignorance and an unyielding faith in God will lead to happiness. Regardless of what you believe, Agnes of God will have you questioning the power of faith and love.

Who killed the baby? Who is the father? Was Agnes seduced or raped – or worse, was she the seductress? What happened in her past? Is she pure and innocent, or is she psychotic? Each truth revealed only leads to more questions.

The play builds in intensity from the opening image; the three women’s shadows projected onto a screen. The stage is a white, sterile psychiatrist’s office which contrasts perfectly with the venue: an old church with an exposed beam roof – the intersection of old and new.

With the raised ceiling and brilliant acoustics, the vocals are simply astounding. The actors’ voices are commanding, particularly the opposing authoritative tones of Kathy Fisher as Mother Superior and Nicole Rutty as Dr. Martha Livingstone.  In contrast, Michaela Burger’s singing is breathtaking and her agonised screams are penetrating.  The performance hinges on its sound. It begins with a voiceover, explaining the court case and alleged crime. Throughout the play, the actors give chilling monologues, revealing layer after layer of deception, lies, and hidden crimes.

Tony Assness’ costume design, however, gives us insight into the characters before a word is spoken. Agnes is dressed in all white, symbolising her purity and innocence, whereas Martha and Mother Superior wear mostly grey, with splashes of black and white.

Whilst the characters are doubtful of everything – including who they are, what they believe in – the actors are truly remarkable. Martha, Mother Superior and Agnes are complex characters that challenge and enlighten their audience. There is no standout performance; every actor is enthralling. Together, they handle the suspense and tough subject matter wonderfully. The play itself, written by John Pielmeier, does not judge or condemn, despite the imminent court case. It simply observes the intersection of two forms of thought, and how each can be both damaging and healing.

Agnes of God is a remarkable piece of theatre. Despite being written in 1979, the themes of science, religion, faith, love, and blame are very much relevant to a modern audience.  It will leave you pondering longer after the lights come up.

Agnes of God runs until March 9 at The Arch, Holden Street Theatres.

Usually a piece of contemporary dance has me wishing my body would move with such grace and fluidity. I envy the imagination of the choreographer. Many times I have cried; actual tears. Remnants Found In You certainly has its moving moments.

The performance takes place at the Lion Arts Centre with a relaxed, cabaret-style seating plan. The tables are candlelit and black, and velvet curtains frame the stage. It’s a sophisticated atmosphere. The show itself is made up of three distinct pieces; Katie Chown’s O-Sea, Juanita Jelleyman’s Shade:less, and Lucinda Coleman’s Spring.

O-Sea begins with young Samantha Coleman performing a chaotic combination of spins and leg extensions. Dancers enter the small stage from both sides, until it is filled with six people performing different sequences of choreography. They bump into each other, intentionally, and narrowly miss a disastrous impact. While this feat is impressive, the choreography is fast, messy and confusing. There is too much going on at any one time. That said, the rare moments when the dancers are still are poignant and refreshing. At intervals throughout the piece, performers exit so that one or two dancers are left. These allowed standout dancers Ben Chown, Andrew Haycroft and Charity Ng to really shine. These three performers are strong, flexible and graceful. They remain firm during lifts and are always in control of their movements, even when they appear unrestrained.

Despite the cluttered choreography, I saw the emotion and meaning behind the piece. The dancers rally around Samantha, reaching for her and mourning her stillness. They support each other, as relatives might after a death in the family. A tender moment between Benjamin and Andrew even had me blinking back tears. Benjamin falls back onto Andrew, who, lying on the ground, holds him above his head and body. Benjamin’s pose is reminiscent of crucifixion. The dancers pause. Benjamin takes a deep breath. It is beautiful.

The star performance of the night is Shade:less, the second piece. Choreographed by New Zealander Juanita Jelleyman, Shade:less explores the dynamic between unity and community in helping the isolated in society. I interpreted the choreography as the performers’ struggles with mental illness. The emotions are raw and powerful. It begins with Esther Van Baren emerging backwards, hands wrapped around her chest as though literally trying to hold herself together. Each movement and pose is dynamic and filled with tension. The stage is fully utilised, but never cluttered. The soundtrack is intriguing, consisting of original music by James Bryant, repetition of the phrase ‘it’s okay’ by Hannah Bryant, and songs, Fragile by Peter Jelleyman and Last Night I Heard Everything by Oliver Tank. This combination of contemporary music and voiceover climaxes with one of the dancers stopping and shouting at the audience, ‘It’s not okay!’

Spring is the final piece of the set, with five dancers performing spirited and joyful choreography, accompanied by the Mahlot String Quartet. It is a wonderful privilege to experience a dance performance with live music, but the quartet could have been better utilised with performers reacting to each other, adapting their movements to the sound. At one point, the dancers start before the music, before hastily attempting to slow down and resynchronise. Choreographer Lucinda also repeats the motif of dancers intentionally bumping into each other. Although it works better with fewer performers, it still comes across as clumsy and unattractive. The choreography is enjoyable and many of the lifts are spectacular, even creative and original. The piece is simply gleeful, however, without any discernable meaning. In keeping with the spring theme, the performers wear green dresses with white lace flowers designed by Kate Emily Townsend. The program insists that it is a conversation between four generations, but this intention is unclear to the audience, especially since the dancers appear to be the same age. Still, if art for the sake of art is your thing, Spring delivers joyful dance by four talented performers.

Remnants Found In You disappointed me because the title led me to expect themes which explore the human condition. I like to be overwhelmed by emotion when I experience contemporary dance. Shade:less delivered this implicit promise – suggesting that community and companionship is crucial to overcoming an individual’s isolation – but the other pieces failed in this respect. Still, each works has something unique to offer audiences – whether it be original music, talented performers, or beautifully constructed lifts.

Remnants Found in You runs until March 21 at Nexus Cabaret, Lion Arts Centre as part of the Adelaide Fringe 2013.

It’s not your ordinary pub fight.

Ex-serviceman Ray (Samuel Edward-Cook) explodes onto the scene, against the will of the pub’s occupants. The owner of the pub, Simon (Adam Foster) refuses to reciprocate his banter. There is an awkward tension from the get-go, of which Kristin Atherton’s character Leanne is hopelessly unaware. Whilst Chloe Massey’s Carla hides backstage, Leanne flirts with a cheerful but volatile Ray. But Ray is determined to win back his ex-wife, and when he learns she is in the pub, with Ray’s former pal Simon hiding her, things go from tentative calm to full blown confrontation. And that’s when the drinking starts.

With characters downing shots of vodka in a ‘game’ that Ray insists they play, everything gradually spirals out of control. Carla refuses to speak to Ray alone. Ray will not leave. Simon and Carla are dating. Ray locks them all in the pub. Ray shoves Leanne to the floor.

Drinks are spilled and the flirting stops. The characters give up on their attempts to soothe Ray’s violent streak and start being honest. Carla tells Ray that she hates him, but cannot seem to leave him suffering. She is trapped, watching him drink and fight himself to death. Simon is forced to watch her fall for him again as Ray tells his tragic tale. He speaks of a grenade killing a small child in Afghanistan, a death that the child had intended for Ray and his two fellow soldiers. The monologue has the audience blinking back tears. That is, until Simon reveals a horrible truth – that Ray pissed into the face of the dying child as he lay in a pool of blood.

The truce ends and the violence resumes. When Ray douses Simon in vodka and lights a match, the audience holds their breath. It is easy to forget that this is theatre, merely a performance. The acting is superb and Peter McNally’s set looks like the real interior of a pub. I can’t help but feel, however, that director Elle While has missed an opportunity to affect the audience more profoundly by breaking the fourth wall. Many of the audience have already entered the theatre with drinks in hands, to mount the raked seating for the show. What if the audience had been seated in tables scattered throughout the set? What if they were occupants of the pub – participants in the show? Ray’s violence would be all the more frightening. He would yell at audience members as well as the cast. Spilled drinks would slosh onto the tables of onlookers. There were many times throughout the show where I sat back and reminded myself that it wasn’t real – that nobody would actually be hurt because it was just acting. Glory Dazed could have immersed its audience even more completely in the fear, shock and desperation of its characters.

Still, the show deserved the multiple five star ratings it achieved at the Edinburgh Fringe. The casting was faultless – every actor displayed an impressive emotional range. Jones’ dialogue is profound and true to reality. The metaphor, likening the war in Afghanistan to a pointless pub fight, has the characters questioning the value of the lives lost.

This play will make you think. You’ll feel with, and for, the characters. And although there’s hope in the story, you’ll be left uncertain at the end.

Glory Dazed runs until March 17^th at the Holden Street Theatres – The Studio as part of the Adelaide Fringe.