The Street Theatre, Wednesday December 14
Now listen. I know the festive season is basically over and done with, and even the most sluggardly decorators have packed their tinsel and baubles away. I’m aware that maybe the last thing you want to hear about is a Christmas show, with your Yuletide enthusiasm at its yearly nadir. I’m sorry if that’s the case, because I’m pretty determined to tell you all about Darren Hanlon’s Christmas visit.
In mid-December Hanlon settled on The Street Theatre stage for the second year running. With support from local pop-lovelies The Cashews and deadpan US troubadour Dave Dondero, the show was sold out, and for good reason. Right in the middle of the peak Christmas stress-out period, the bandless Hanlon and his cohort of supporters wrapped The Street in a giant cheerful hug, softened with just enough wistful melancholy to make everyone want to hold hands. It was a Christmas show mainly in name; no trumped-up carols or candle-lit hymns made their way into set-lists, and if one or two songs name-dropped the holiday season, I didn’t hear anyone complain.
Opening the show, the well-loved Cashews brought all their summery sweetness to the unfamiliar climes of the spotlighted stage. The duo is famous for their pop-up gigs in the parks and backyards of Canberra, but the more formal feel of The Street Theatre suited them beautifully. Swapping between guitars, ukuleles, trumpets and melodicas, the charming pair of songwriters evoked in harmony sunny afternoons by the river and the joyful tribulations of falling in love.
Dave Dondero brought a slightly cooler change to the evening. He and Hanlon have toured the US together and have even, if my memory serves, played together in Canberra in the past. It’s a partnership that rings of opposites attract: Dondero’s onstage catharsis drives a darker set of lovelorn ballads and gritty guitar. Dondero is cleverly cynical, lyrically sharp and an excellent storyteller, and recalls a less-polished Bright Eyes in tone. His songs departed from familiar paths to pay tribute to homelessness and – my favourite – civil engineers.
Hanlon’s ever-evolving live show has well-earned its devoted followers. He is a master of casual banter, and his warm and witty stage presence transforms catchy indie pop songs with sincerity and depth. The show this year was heavy on the new stuff, with the first half of the set comprised mostly of the meandering post-love stories of the 2011 record, I Will Love You At All. Hanlon was in a ‘theatrical’ mood, as he told the audience, miming himself in the bus stop rain evoked by the rollicking Waited for the 17, and gazing into the wistful middle distance. Without his usual accompaniment of spunky girl-drummer, Hanlon rounded out songs with percussion played on toy-sized ukuleles and even sang both sides of a duet on his own.
Which was all the more endearing in hindsight, as Hanlon was joined onstage by another well-loved vocalist soon after. A beautifully poignant (but very exciting) surprise guest appearance by Sarah Blasko for two songs mid-set had the wildly applauding crowd disbelieving their luck. The two duets the pair performed – one a Hanlon classic, the other a Blasko cover ‘given a guitar remix’ – were simple and sweet, with bright, warm harmonies.
So as far as Christmas shows go, I’m happy to report that this one had just the right mix of sweet and sad, surprise and warm familiarity. If you’ve made it this far despite the waxing power of your inner Grinch, I can only urge you – if we’re lucky enough to have Mr Hanlon come to town again – to check out the show next Christmas.
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