A tightly constructed and polished one-woman show in need of more depth and imagination.

Her Majesty’s Theatre, Adelaide
June 11, 2015

Entering Her Majesty’s Theatre, there was a palpable buzz in the foyer. Cabaret fever combined with the knowledge that the notorious creative team behind the smash hit Songs for Nobodies had collaborated again, meant expectation was high.

Pennsylvania Avenue’s beautifully imposing and formal set impressively fills the large stage. The oval shaped walls of this special Blue Room in the White House are reimagined with sheer blue curtains, perfect reproduction furniture and six imposing portraits of American Presidents.

As the house lights dim and the familiar hush engulfs, Happy Birthday Mr President rings out through the dark. Picturing Marilyn, the thin, elegant figure of Bernadette Robinson discreetly finds centre stage. This is a story of Harper, an event coordinator at the White House, and it’s her last day after 40 years of loyal and devoted service.

The story is special; clever and well researched, fact and fiction blend seamlessly. As Harper picks through mementoes in an archive storage box, she tells of the Presidents and First Ladies she’s served, the celebrities she’s met and the memorable moments of their lives she witnessed. And, somewhere amongst it all, there’s her life too.

Robinson’s talent as a singing impersonator is undeniable. She crafts her voice round a multitude of greats, from Ella Fitzgerald to Maria Callas, Tammy Wynette to Bob Dylan. Her ability to recount the voices of so many of the wonderful characters that have coloured her life, both professionally and personally, is highly commendable too. The audience watches, laughs and gasps, with awe – as if watching a high-wire act, wondering if anything will drop and fall.

As each story unfurls, the portraits of presidents in gold frames are revealed as screens which slickly change to support the tales being told. There’s a familiar face, then a particular place, a special memento or a grand photographed occasion. Whilst many of the historically significant moments that punctuate the script are well known – JFK’s assassination, the Vietnam War, the pulling down of the Berlin Wall – in Pennsylvania Avenue, we experience them all from Harper’s unique, often enviable, vantage point.

However, despite the great story, lavish set, contributions from so many of Australia’s theatrical A-Listers and a standing ovation at the end, something was missing. Although Robinson is a huge talent, her portrayal of Harper feels as much of an impersonation as everything else. Simon Phillips’ directorial choices surprisingly lack depth and imagination and, consequently, she lacks necessary intent as she traverses the vast stage. And, with so much to conquer in Joanna Murray-Smith’s script, too much is rushed to allow full immersion within it.

Pennsylvania Avenue is a tightly constructed and polished one-woman show. Sadly though, its staging feels too contrived and too plastic to truly connect and move, as so many ‘nobodies’ had expected it would.