Last night we went to see the renowned John Malkovich in Giacomo Variations at the Sydney Opera House.  I had high expectations after seeing him in many movies and having gone to the Steppenwolf Theatre Company’s “August: Osage County“ production at Sydney Theatre Company last year.  It was a tour de force – possibly the best theatre I’ve seen in years.  Malkovich is one of the founding actors of this Chicago-based group.

After paying $125 a seat plus $35 for parking, not forgetting the least memorable Chandon NV (for another $20 the pair), we abandoned our massive holiday treat investment at interval and didn’t return.

I’m not a huge fan of operetta or whatever the format of Giacomo Variations actually is (they called it a “staged performance”) – orchestra, opera-like singing, sort-of-lavish costumes, surtitles, spoken dialogue – but I was hoping for a lot more from John Malkovich.

I rate the acting and direction as poor, but it seemed that the real problem was with the source material – an old Casanova retelling the seductions of his youth.  Sad and pathetic. The leading part was weak, his performance tepid and the overall subject matter and production was really crook.

And I have to say that this is not the first time I have been suckered by a big name in the Sydney festival. When Cate Blanchett starred in War of the Roses, she set the low bar. Incredibly minimalist set, lacklustre cast, forgettable dialogue, truly uninspired direction.

It seemed that the organisers had fubbed it by spending all their dough on one big name – neglecting all the other things that make a memorable performance.

That just about sums it up for me with John Malkovitch as well.

I’d like to say that the music and songs were memorable, but I’d be fibbing.

One chap actually booed after about ten minutes and saved the OH staff from ejecting him – being the first to walk out unaided; unlike the ABC luminaries sitting in front of us who just dozed quietly through the first half.  So tired from working on the First Tuesday Book Club and Talking Heads, probably.

A colleague at work wanted to go and see Giacomo Variations – but last night he was preparing for a colonoscopy.  I reckon we saw more crap than he did.

If you missed Giacomo Variations, you were lucky indeed.  And richer for the experience.

*  In fairness to John Malkovich, he read an Allen Ginsberg anti-war poem – accompanying – or accompanied by Philip Glass last Tuesday at the Sydney Recital Hall.  And he was brilliant; the highlight of that performance.