The publicity material and programme notes for this evening at the Darlinghurst Theatre promise an evening of uproarious entertainment, unburdened by pretentious auteurism. With both playwright and director singing the virtues of simplicity, it’s surprising to find that both Drake the Amazing and La Dispute are built around complex ideas about art and humanity. These ideas are the most rewarding part of the evening and warrant much deeper investigation. Yet, paradoxically, the evening might be better off without them, as their presence seems to hobble the plays’ attempts at straightforward comedy.
Drake the Amazing is one-part screwball comedy, one-part love story, one-part paean to the tragic actor. The titular hero, a dramatic monologuist in an American vaudeville troupe circa 1910, has been doing the same routine for years, and it’s getting a little tired. He’s on a quest to find a piece that’s entirely new so that he can save his job and win the girl.
It’s the romance that carries the play, in no small part due to Kate Skinner, whose Claudette has a spiky appeal reminiscent of great old-time movie stars. Scott Sheridan is an appealing straight man who remains likeable when Drake’s hangdog manner becomes a touch repetitive, and his climactic recitation is surprisingly gripping. Nicholas Papademtriou’s ornery manager and Andrew Johnton’s Yiddish humourist round out the cast with well-pitched comic archetypes, the latter performing far better in character than serving as a tiresome narrator. Adrienne Lord’s genre-savvy set provides a pitch-perfect backdrop for John Kachoyan’s diligent production.
Unlike his hero, playwright Andy Hyman isn’t out to do anything new, which makes it harder to forgive his weaknesses. He’s crafted a sweet, light-hearted love story populated with likeable characters, but the wordplay doesn’t crackle nearly enough to turn the audience’s smiles into laughter. Despite (or perhaps because of) Hyman’s admiration for screwball classics, hecan’t top them when it comes to comedy, which makes you wonder why this play needs to exist. One answer is the intriguing through-line asking what makes outstanding actors tick. If this idea had been pursued with more doggedness and some attention to the evolutions in performance over the past century, Drake could have been more than a pleasing trifle.
The second play, La Dispute, escapes that label with much greater ease. Most of this success is down to a name suspiciously absent from the program: Pierre de Marivaux, who wrote the play in 1744 during the heyday of French farce. In La Dispute, Marivaux took the mechanisms of farce and pushed them to their extremes, using his needle-sharp wit to poke at provocative questions of social experimentation and human instinct. Four children are raised in isolation then released into the wild to satisfy an idle dinner-party question: which of these innocents will cheat first? Man or woman?
Although Hyman is credited as the writer, most of his work is a straight translation, with a few new scenes and embellishments scattered throughout. Some of the original’s best lines are inexplicably cut, and some of the new inventions don’t add much to the play: the youngsters’ discovery of contemporary slang terms is a grab for cheap laughs that undermines the Spartan elegance of Marivaux’s language. Others are more successful, with the best writing of the night belonging to Hyman’s insightful expansion of the servant Carise. Zoe Carides’s subtly eloquent performance elevates what was a minor functionary in the original into a compelling combination of calcified bitterness and quiet dignity.
Lord’s set is rather underwhelming this time around, though Kachoyan’s deft staging keeps La Dispute fast and funny without any loss of complexity. He’s assembled a splendid cast, particularly when it comes to the young innocents. Julian Curtis’s bashful charm and brilliant comic timing makes Mesrin the perfect mix of sweet and endearingly goofy. Stacey Duckworth and Polita Cameron do a nice line in girlish wonderment that unexpectedly and hilariously warps into teenage bitching. Only Carl Batchelor lets his childish innocence slip into monotony. Among the older cast members, Ben Wood and Annaliese Szota have an excellent rapport as the brother and sister who oversee the experiment, with their banter helping to salvage a few overlong expository scenes.
It’s difficult to see why the Darlinghurst Theatre programmed these two works together. If Hyman had dared to do with screwball what Marivaux did to farce, this could have been a great evening of idea-driven comedy. As it is, the double-bill format does no favours for either play. Drake the Amazing suffers next to Marivaux’s ingenuity, and placing La Dispute after interval makes what was intended as a short piece feel painfully long. The experience is a bit like eating two desserts in a row: you might have a fun, carefree time while you’re doing it, but afterwards you’ll regret not seeking out a genuine meal.
Price $37.00
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