Morning of the Earth

There was a lot more alcohol in the Concert Hall of the Sydney Opera House than I had seen before. Indeed, many an audience member would come bumbling down past a row of people, the level of their beers swaying to and fro but never breaching the side of the plastic tumblers, or perhaps there’d be a nice glass of chardonnay in the hand of a middle-aged rebel-in-a-past-life as he excused himself along the aisle. One does not wish to stereotype, nor does one wish to judge at all, but it was clear – especially considering the number of mobile phones used to record and take photos throughout the concert – that the audience was not usual Opera House fare. Brian Cadd, one of the singers for the night, summed it up nicely: “can you believe that after forty years we’ve made it to the Opera House?”

Forty years ago was when the film Morning of the Earth was released, a surf film that captured, rather successfully, the “nomadic life of Australian surfers”. There was no narration to the film, but instead a soundtrack which has stood the test of time, and that is what the audience had come to hear, along with highlights of the aforementioned film projected on a large screen at the back of the stage (with a few extra rolls of film as well). It was the evening of a Sunday, it was the last show of the tour, and what a night it was.

Each of the main performers brought their own unique charisma to the show, with Lior and his mellifluous voice an early standout, while Gyan provided a stilling beauty in a slower moment of the concert. Mike Rudd (of Spectrum fame) brought a forceful energy to his numbers, while Tim Gaze (from Tamam Shud) exuded a different but equally jocular charm. Yet it was Cadd who often stole the show, his patter in between many of the songs providing a nice contrast to his high-octane performance. On the whole, the music was better the quieter it was, as the Concert Hall is not necessarily the best venue to have booming sounds, the acoustics of the place inevitably blurring what otherwise might be clear. But nevertheless there was much joy to be had, especially in the final number with the entire cast, ‘Open Up Your Heart’, a toe-tapping hit if ever there was one (and indeed a hit it was).

It’s a credit to the singers that one often wanted to watch them instead of the film on screen, but sometimes even their charisma couldn’t distract from the beautiful cinematography on offer. Morning of the Earth seems still as fresh as when it was filmed those many years ago (except, perhaps, for the haircuts), while some other and newer segments were equally fascinating, such as “Surfing Dolphins” and a sequence with a lithe and beautiful mermaid weaving around under the sea between shipwrecks and whales, a sequence which had the men and their beers in front of me nudging each other in delight. The film and the songs paint a simpler and less stressful way of life that is still as relevant today as it was back then, especially with regards to the solace of music, the truth of which was abundantly clear that night.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Morning of the Earth
By Albe Falzon
Musical performers: Lior, Gyan, Tim Gaze, Mike Rudd and Brian Cadd

Sydney Opera House
5 February 2012