An Evening with Lorna Luft
Venue: Fairfax Studio at The Arts Centre
Reviewer: Jacqui Bunting
Date Reviewed: 3rd May, 2008

 

While most thespians are all too familiar with the legend of Judy Garland and the career of her daughter Liza Minelli, few are aware that youngest daughter, Lorna Luft, has forged her own television and stage career. Not surprising then that she began her recent show at the Fairfax Studio with the Walker/Arnold classic ‘You Don’t Know Me’.

 

Sitting amidst a crowd of predominantly middle-aged men in the occasional silk scarf and the odd fur-clad red-lipped female hanger on, one couldn’t help but have high hopes; the result of marketing material trading heavily on Lorna’s heritage with phrases such as “at last she is returning to Oz to belt out a few showstoppers - as only one of her pedigree can”. While this certainly serves to get bums on seats, the inevitable comparisons to her mother and half-sister ultimately leave Ms Luft looking as though she belongs back at the ‘South City Junior Leagues Club’ in Sydney (the location of her first Australian gig) singing for “shrimp-eating teenagers”.

 

They say, ‘it’s not how you start its how you finish.’ - lucky for Lorna. The opening number had me uncomfortably shifting in my seat as a panic stricken Ms Luft battled to find her pitch, sending wide-eyed desperate glances to her musical director/accompanist husband, Colin Freeman. Apparently this was due to inadequate foldback - strange considering she had completed an afternoon show at which you’d assume the levels had been set. Luft managed to partially redeem herself with the Act One finale, a highly entertaining ‘Johnny One Note’ signalling a  welcome change from an uninspired hour including a tribute to former brother-in-law Peter Allen and an original take on South Pacific’s ‘A Cockeyed Optimist’ done in the style of poignant tragedy. Whilst I am normally a fan of obscure interpretations of classic musical theatre standards, trying to relate lyrics such as ‘I could say life is just a bowl of Jello…but I’m stuck like a dope with this thing called hope’ to the war in Iraq just didn’t work.  You know something is lacking when the woman next to you at interval remarks, “Do you think she’s wearing stockings? I wonder what brand they are, they really blend with her shoes” rather than commenting on any aspect of the performance.

 

It was only when she tackled material from her UK Show, Songs My Mother Taught Me that Luft found some spark. Her renditions of ‘Chicago’, ‘The Man That Got Away’ and ‘Rock a Bye’ were polished and performed with the confidence and pizzazz expected of a show charging $75 a seat. I couldn’t help but wish that she had brought the show over in it’s entirety (which she has since decided to do) because the snapshot she presented was completely engaging and all too short-lived. In contrast, ballads such as  Jerry Herman’s ‘Time Heals Everything’ and Arthur Hamilton’s ‘Cry Me a River’ lacked  impact due to the absence of raw emotional energy.  In a 2004 interview, Lorna described her childhood as a time that had “incredible highs and then mellowed out and then went into a landslide”, so if anyone has a range of emotion to draw from it’s her. Yet at times the show felt like cabaret by numbers (i.e. woman in front of microphone staring into distance + spotlight + torch song + tear = wow!) Because of this, up tempo numbers such as ‘It’s Today’ and her Oscar medley of all the songs never nominated were a welcome change from the ballad heavy repertoire.  There was just no…magic.

 

On a positive note, Ms Luft looked great. Act One saw her fabulous legs on display in a blue tiered satin dress and sky high flesh heels before changing into a fitted black suit with sequined collar for Act Two. Very classy wardrobe choices set off to great effect by the simple mood lighting.

 

On the whole Luft is likeable which is more than one can say for her husband  who spent the night banging away at the piano with a face like a slapped arse surrounded by five lacklustre Aussie musicians who looked like they’d rather be at the pub.  The band often drowned out Luft’s lower register which could have been rectified by the sound technician. In contrast, her impressive belt voice was loud and clear and used to great effect for a lot of ‘big finishes’.

 

To say I was shocked at the standing ovation is an understatement. Perhaps people were on their feet because of some allegiance to the brilliance of her mother. Perhaps their predetermined decision to have a great night took hostage of reality. Perhaps they plain and simply just loved it. After  watching a show billed as “exclusive and intimate”, one should’ve left the theatre having had some sort of insight into the life and emotions of Lorna Luft, the offspring of the most tragic and talented songstress of the MGM era. Instead, I walked away unmoved, still not knowing who she is.

 


Jacqui Bunting is an accomplished performer having completed a Diploma in Musical Theatre at Tshwane University, South Africa. She has performed with numerous Melbourne theatre companies including CLOC, Devanesen Productions, Waverley Theatre and Just Pretending and was most recently seen as Cassie in Whitehorse Musical Theatre's  A Chorus Line and as a member of the ensemble in The Producers. Jacqui Bunting is currently studying ‘Professional Writing and Editing’ at RMIT University  

 

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