I remember Friday evenings more than anything from when I was a teenager. Not because I was going to party’s or sneaking out my bedroom window to hang out with my friends but because every Friday night I used to get a chinese takeaway with my mam and we would watch a rom com. So I guess you could consider me an expert on the subject. I’ve seen the classics like Legally Blond, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, When Harry Met Sally but I’ve also seen the new (see:shit) ones like Someone Great and Bridget Jones’ Diary (which remains the worst film I’ve ever seen but that is a story for another day). The only thing I’ve never seen is a successful pisstake/ ‘interrogation’ of a rom com and thankfully, that’s not what Harris was trying to do, although other critics have argued that it is. It has all of the classic tropes; the random breaking out into song, the ‘it was all a lie!’ gasp moment, the sexist but well meaning father. It is an ode to the films we outwardly roll our eyes at but inwardly devour, in the hopes that something like it will one day happen to us.
The first compliment I have to give this play is that it is hilarious. It is excessive and flamboyant at all times even with a largely stripped down staging. At every opportunity there is a one liner or bit perfectly timed to keep the audience laughing. When I saw a cut out of the Spire being wheeled around the stage with an accompanying aggressive seagull, I knew we would not be able to look away for fear of missing out on some of the hilarity. Beyond the comedy of this rom-com, its wider examination of truth, love and loneliness was also engaging. In particular, I admire the choice to go quite directly against the typical Hollywood ending of ‘Just be yourself’ to instead say ‘Be what makes you happy.’ The characters do not realise that they were good enough all along, instead they realise that when you’re an adult trying to survive in a city crippled by a cost-of-living crisis, being a tad bit delusional is not the worst thing.
The protagonist Casey (played by Eimear Keating) is the typical down-on-her-luck girl, a character that could be straight out of ‘He’s Just Not That Into You’. She hates her sister, is misunderstood by her parents, struggles with her mental health, has to work two jobs and worst of all, is a young person in Dublin. She’s a cutesy Zoe Deschanel type with a controlling side. I mean, I can sort of understand why you pay an actor to pretend to be your boyfriend to impress your family…sort of. But to pay him to pretend to be your boyfriend even when you two are alone together…that’s kind of messed up. Harris’ play diverges from the typical rom com genre in that Casey’s mental illness is not a quirky character trait that differentiates her from other characters, but rather it is sometimes disturbing and clearly frightening for her family and at no point does she ever expect to be ‘cured’. I liked this realistic portrayal of how dark mental illness can be but also how funny it can be to live with a mental illness as well.
“Brett’s American sincerity flies in the face of their Irish irony and he has swept Casey off her feet, along with every other tried and tested cliche.”
I agree, when Casey brings her new man to meet her family. They are naturally suspicious of this good looking American with his poetry and his quiches, not just because he’s seemingly perfect but also because their daughter is vulnerable. It was also realistic that her family’s concern came across as painful condensation. Brett’s American sincerity flies in the face of their Irish irony and he has swept Casey off her feet, along with every other tried and tested cliche. The play then veers off the beaten track to some healthy rom-com convolution that naturally all comes right and romantic in the end.
Nancy Harris in her note on the play credits a line from Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire as being the starting point for the play. While it has travelled a long way from that dark tragedy, it retains more than just the ominous blues piano that is a constant background item on the stage. The central dynamic of two sisters and a male interloper is reminiscent of the older play as is its depiction of female ‘madness’ when faced with being ignored or dismissed. In a deeper way, both plays deal with questions about fantasy and truth and how far can we go in our attempts to escape reality.
I saw this more than anything in the character of Cynthia. To paraphrase Joan Didion, my stake is always in the beautiful woman crying on the floor, barefoot and pathetic after having a mental breakdown. I couldn’t help but root for Cynthia (played by Daniel Galligan) despite the fact that at times her character seemed incohesive. Maybe that was the way she was written on purpose. It’s impossible for her to act out of character because she isn’t a character, she doesn’t know who she is or what she’s doing. In the beginning of the show, I pegged her as a cool girl, villain type. She was the parents’ favourite, she was hot, she had a good job, she was confident. But my heart broke for her when she became infatuated with Brett.
“Marcus only appears in the opening and closing scenes but these scenes encapsulate the spirit of the whole production; flamboyant, excessive, hilarious, and tragic when you think about them beyond the flashiness that is on stage.”
But it wasn’t just the female characters that got me thinking, all of the male characters in the play are finely tuned to perfection. Enda Oates as Alan captures the Irish Dad archetype of sarcastic and unbothered and Paul Reid excellently brought the walking midlife crisis that is Eric to the stage. But it is the characters of Marcus and Brett that are central to the play. They manage to convey a lot of the message of the play with very little time centre stage; Marcus has barely any lines and we are never sure when Brett is being real or acting. A huge amount of credit is due to Cameron Cuffe in how well he manoeuvred between the different faces of Brett. His ability to control the constantly shifting energy of the character kept the audience invested in the search for what is ‘real.’ Marcus only appears in the opening and closing scenes but these scenes encapsulate the spirit of the whole production; flamboyant, excessive, hilarious, and tragic when you think about them beyond the flashiness that is on stage.
But the staging certainly plays a crucial role in the play. The tacky, neo-modernist, techno-feudal, mid 2000’s aesthetic of the show was very appealing. It reminded me of La La Land in that it was timeless despite being so rooted in a specific ‘brand’ of modern. It’s Brett’s Chelsea boots, Cynthia’s Catríona Perry-esque blue dress, the balloons at the wedding, and most importantly, the goddamn streamers. I really loved the streamers. They added a gorgeously garish atmosphere when Casey was struggling with her depression and crying uncontrollably, or when Cynthia tried to seduce Brett.
Overall, the play was just a lot of fun to watch. It’s in the Abbey until November 4th so get tickets fast. It’s a wonderful play to see a bit tipsy with your single friends but equally would make a great first date as it leaves you with lots to discuss over a pint in the Abbey bar afterwards!
WORDS: Libby Marchant
WORDS: Leo Callanan
