” … amusing, adroit and acute art. It is a joy, at times, just to be able to sit comfortably and watch the incomparables at work. “
Kate Stratford
5 canvases
Venue: Comedy Theatre
Melbourne
Dates: Until May 17th
You are out at a theatre, or concert, or cinema or exhibition and your friend turns to you and asks, “What do you think?” There is a momentary pause before you answer, an internal recoil. Because, after all, you want to be on the same page as this friend and you don’t want to be the gushing fangirl or the negative bitch. Are they truly asking your opinion? Or asking for validation of their own opinion? Are you the outlier here? Or are they? There is a silence which inevitably follows that first question. Worse if somehow they have had a hand in the “art”.
Yasmina Reza’s ART, now showing at the Melbourne Comedy Theatre is – in my opinion – a sharp, funny, surprisingly provocative piece where and you get to see three of Australia’s brightest stars at the top of their game generously sharing the stage with each other.
My critique is a little deeper because I flatter myself that theatre is a field about which I know something (to misquote the line: “This is a field about which you know nothing so how can you assert that any given object which conforms to laws you don’t understand, is shit?”).
Serge (Damon Herriman) has paid €160,000 for a painting which is a white canvas with maybe some white lines on it. He invites his friend Marc (Richard Roxburgh) to view it expecting … what? Validation? Jealousy? But Marc is a proud intellectual maverick and attacks the purchase, leaving Serge in a highly defensive position. Both turn to a third friend Yvan (Toby Schmitz) for support. Yvan, (a sort of ‘Curly” in a Three Stooges scenario here) does not see there is a need for an opinion at all. Insecure, he is trying to deal with all the complications of his upcoming wedding – a situation which has him frantic with anxiety. Yvan cannot see a problem, Marc refuses to accept that and determined to bring Serge to his senses – or at least to Marc’s senses – engineers an evening where things fall apart. Will the decades-old friendship survive? Can it survive?
Both Reza’s script and the direction by Lee Lewis offer these consummate professionals the dialogue and guidance to flex their performance muscles. Roxburgh’s Marc stuffs his hands in his pockets or crosses his arms in an attempt to contain his outrage, bouncing on the balls of his feet and then striding, arms flailing in frustration. Vocally he swings between a barley held silence or whispers and escalating shouts. By contrast, Harriman’s Serge wears the role of the poseur with a fragility which easily collapses to reveal his insecurities. A little smarmy at times, but always seeking Marc’s approval; simultaneously despairing and annoyed. Schmitz as Yvan is gangly and awkward and anxious. He is the necessary heart needed to ground the quasi-intellectualism of the other two, and is all reconciliation in tone. The physicality and timing of the three is impeccable.
It is interesting that a play about middle-aged men having a mid-life crisis was not only written by a woman but in this case, directed by one. Both bring to story the sharpness with which women observe men. Usually through a lens of “men behaving badly”. However, both Reza and Lewis remain sympathetic to the humanity at play here. Lewis has managed rather well to walk that fine line in directing between being didactic and being laissz-faire. There is control and a deftness, a tightness in pacing which delivers Reza’s observations on friendship, its roles and functions clearly. Art might be the title but it is not what the play is about. When one destroys a friendship with truth, is it morally acceptable to attempt to rebuild with a lie?
All the elements of theatre work exceptionally well here. Charles Davis set is either modern classic or classic modernism. The irony is not lost in attempting to define. Costumes (also Davis) tell us the psychological make-up of each character before they open their mouths. Sound and lighting subtly place us somewhere in a sophisticated space.
By the end we are left with our own pretensions to understanding art in all its forms. Our laughter comes from recognition of this. Our after-show discussions are about the nature of taste, friendship and the role of truth. Just as the white painting has accumulated meaning by the end, so has the play.
Back to an opinion – amusing, adroit and acute art. It is a joy, at times, just to be able to sit comfortably and watch the incomparables at work.
Photos by Brett Boardman
Kate Stratford, Theatre Now
