DOMINION POST

Written and performed by Simon Ferry
Directed by Tim Spite

at Centrepoint, Palmerston North
From 7 Jul 2007 to 4 Aug 2007

Reviewed by John Ross, 24 Jul 2007
originally published in The Dominion Post

Ferry begins as himself, at an invisible lectern, launching into a funeral tribute to his own father. Presently he becomes his father, resting on top of his coffin, and reacting with humorous scorn. At times he becomes his mother, a brother, his father's army mate, an officer, whoever, and often enough both participants in a conversation. It is accomplished, in both senses, with no trace of strain or awkwardness.

Jock Ferry had survived as an infantry private in Italy, when many didn't, and would be spooked for the rest of his days and nights by experiences he would rarely speak of. Booze made them bearable, back then and thereafter. Singing also helped.

Back home he begat nine children, and was a kindly father, an inveterate practical joker, and for thirty-five years a popular and gifted schoolteacher.

A one-person show is always a hard ask for an actor, and one so close to home must be even more so, yet Simon Ferry carries it off with tact and flair. At one point Ferry the actor metatheatrically splits himself, with one part of himself justifying to the other the use of a structuring `theatrical device.' It's neatly done.

The only scenic prop, the coffin, is manipulated to serve as a door, a bike, a piano, or whatever. The `backdrop' is a wall of shelving with hundreds of bottles, some of which come in handy when Jock needs a drink.

The latest guise of this show, first performed in 1993, evidently owes something to its director Tim Spite. It hangs together effectively, flows well, and provides a moving portrayal of a man who was both an interesting individual and a representative of his generation.

The Manawatu Standard

LULLABY JOCK: SILENT GENERATIONS - 7 July - 4 August
br> Reviewed by Richard Mays for The Manawatu Standard, Monday 9 July 2007.

The extraordinary story of an ordinary man takes centre stage at Centrepoint in this compelling solo performance. Lullaby Jock is proof that people don't have to be famous to generate their own remarkable and meaningful sagas.

Pahiatua schoolteacher, husband, father, practical joker, singer, drunk, and war vet, Jock Ferry described his life as "a complete waste of time", living it "to the bare minimum". Yet his son Simon has spun from anecdote and memory, a uniquely colourful and moving portrait of a man who probably never fully recovered from his wartime experiences, while making the best if the peace that followed.

In front of a wall lined with hundreds of beer and gin bottles, and with the aid of a single prop - a full-sized plywood coffin - the actor pieces together snippets that capture the essence of a fast-fading generation. From mates going off gung-ho to war, to battlefield action, humour, peacetime romance, and personal tragedy, Lullaby Jock mines a rich vein of incident.

Brilliant use is made of the coffin as motorcycle, mortar, bed, doorway, piano and as a makeshift screen to show cameo portraits of fallen comrades, without ever losing its symbolic status. Ferry, who has a fine singing voice, populates his father's world with numerous characters, delivering performances of substance, consistency and courage - especially with his mother (who he also plays) and family members in the audience.

There are areas that could stand tightening and editing, but notwithstanding its intensely personal perspective, this warts and all celebration of a life glows with universal resonance.

OTAGO DAILY TIMES

Biographical depiction both sensitive and savage

Lullaby Jock
Reviewed by Barbara Frame
Tuesday February 5, 2008

EVERY year, Jock Ferry has a contest with one of the neighbours to see whose tomatoes will ripen first. Aided by subterfuges with paint or bought vegetables, Jock always “wins”.
This is one of many telling anecdotes in Lullaby Jock, acted by Jock’s son Simon Ferry, directed by Tim Spite, co-written by both, and presented in collaboration with Palmerston North’s Centrepoint Theatre.

Father of nine, popular school teacher, and a typical New Zealander of his generation, Jock always needs to win, to have a laugh, to take nothing seriously, to have a drink, then another drink, and another.

And behind it all, always in Jock’s consciousness, the unmentionable wounds and horrors of World War 2 fester and torment.

In recent years, Dunedin audiences have seen a few biographical depict ions of fathers and/or soldiers in one-man productions (Jesus by Boy, Gunner Inglorious, The Daylight Atheist), and Lullaby Jock can hold its own with the best.

The script is taut, and Spite’s sharp direction ensures a good pace and the right intensity of the comic bits, which can be very funny, before they are overwhelmed by the sense of tragedy and waste.

Ferry’s presentation of a man whose bright, practical-joking, hard-drinking exterior only thinly veils his interior battlefield is both sensitive and savage.

On a plain white set, equipped only with a frieze of bottles and a simple wooden coffin which effectively multi-functions as a door, a motorbike, a piano, and so on, he holds the audience’s attention and sympathy for every second.

The audience of about 60 people was highly appreciative.

Lullaby Jock: Silent Generations runs until Sunday.