Review: PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE AN ENCHANTING WALK DOWN MEMORY LANE at Sydney Opera House

When the theatre-going Sydneysider is hunting for a story unlike any other, set amongst the most powerful of creatures and the most notable moments in modern history, told with passion and humour and dulcet sublimity, where else but the White House?!

In a magnificent reunion of creative genius, the team behind Songs for Nobodies - writer Joanna Murray-Smith, director Simon Phillips and eternal ingénue Bernadette Robinson - join forces to tell the story of Harper Clara Clements in her last day at the famous residence of presidents. In a rousing retrospective of 40 years, Murray-Smith's all-at-once humorous and sharp text choreographs a brief history of American presidents, the world-renowned performances of celebrities who sung for them, and her own sheroic tale of life beyond the glittering compound.

Playing in Sydney's own world-renowned House, Harper meets us in the Blue Room beneath moving portraits of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and many other icons as the story traces her journey from Kennedy-era intern to Clinton-era entertainment director, working intimately with stars of politics, stage, and screen.

Murray-Smith's words ring true and entrancing under the charismatic performance by Robinson, whose vocal technique in both singing and impersonation are stunningly clarified. Closing one's eyes during Eartha Kitt's 'If You Go Away', Diana Ross' 'The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face', and even Bob Dylan's 'Eve of Destruction' is a blooming nostalgia and sense memory. Robinson's characterisation is one-part Jane Horrocks, one-part Blanche Dubois and perhaps a sizzle of Monroe herself.

Although setting the piece in the one room allows focus on Harper's cyclonic story, Robinson seems completely hemmed in by it. This does however aid in the tension of Harper's personal tragedy to emerge from behind tales of Marilyn Monroe's lingerie and the like. As it was, Robinson had the whole house hooked.

I found myself wishing for her to stick around for the Obama years and do a Beyoncé cover, but alas we all know that Miss Clements' narrative as it corresponds to the romanticised estate of democracy has long been lost to the onrushing progress of celebrity and diversity. Where the text did tickle more controversial topics is where it showed most promise as a piece of theatre worth weaving into theatre programs the world over for its entertainment value and reflection on the world's most powerful office.

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