The Point of Light

Most people will remember a game from childhood that goes a little something like this: You and a few playmates, some or all of whom may be make believe, sit for hours, lost in a story that you make up as you go and furnish with whatever props are in arm’s reach. The world of your story is without doubt real and your protagonist simply must prevail but you don’t know how. The obstacles materialise unexpectedly from your imagination and you have to battle with every ounce of cunning to overcome them. When your hero finally triumphs, you are overcome by an almost giddy excitement and then you collapse in exhaustion, the totality of the story having taken all your energy. For all but a lucky few, of which Amberly Cull is certainly one, this ability fades quickly as soon as we discover the doubt and fear of judgement that come with self-consciousness.

The Point of Light takes your adult mind back to that hallowed state of being and I loved every minute of it. It’s the classic story of its genre, where on a proverbial dark and stormy night the population of Gerda’s entire town is struck dead and she must venture into the unknown – battling raunchy sunflowers, Californian doppelgangers and her own relationship issues – to save the day.

With a cast of beautifully crafted puppets and some fine minstrelsy from Greg Lavell, Cull crafts a story that stays true to its roots while deftly weaving in some very adult material and brilliant irreverence. It’s all delivered with a good as gold smile though that you can’t help but respond to, and an offer of a chocolate frog.

But let’s not forget that this is also a musical, because the songs are great. Speaking in accents is hard enough but singing in them is another skill altogether and you have to be impressed with Cull’s range as she speaks and sings her way through a large cast. Her only crime was rushing a few of the songs but so contagious was her energy that she was instantly forgiven as you happily rolled along with her.

The smile barely left my face throughout. The Point of Light is that wonderful balance of child-like abandon and clever word craft, fuelled by Amberly Cull’s boundless enthusiasm. It’s also hilarious. Without doubt one of the highlights at this year’s Melbourne Fringe. 

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars