Review: The Unfriend at Roslyn Packer Theatre
Review by Carly Fisher
Good manners can get you into all sorts of trouble, particularly when your houseguest might be a murderer. In The Unfriend, Steven Moffat turns the British instinct for politeness into a deliciously absurd predicament, as a couple discover that their well-intentioned holiday invitation has come back to haunt them. Directed by Simon Phillips for Sydney Theatre Company, this is a silly, often very funny comedy that benefits from a terrific central performance by Helen Thomson and a set design that is worth the ticket price alone.
Peter and Debbie, a British couple holidaying on a cruise, strike up a friendship with Elsa, an American widow who seems perfectly pleasant at first. They exchange contact details and the pleasant 'look me up if you come' sort of invitation to catch up again one day. When Else decides to take them up on that offer, they do what any Millennial couple would do...they google their soon to be house guest. What follows is a comedy of manners in which the desire to remain polite becomes almost as dangerous as the guest herself.
Written by Steven Moffat, best known for his work on Doctor Who and Sherlock, the play takes a familiar social predicament and pushes it to increasingly ridiculous extremes. The tension between what people think and what they are prepared to say aloud provides leads to moments of great comedy, particularly when social etiquette begins to override even the most basic instincts of self-preservation. I can't be alone in sitting there as an Aussie audience member thinking 'gosh, this is so British!' - taking manners to the absolute extreme.
There is a recognisable quality to this particular brand of humour and whilst the play does often border on silly, you cannot help but laugh along. The awkwardness of maintaining appearances, the instinct to avoid confrontation and the familiar social dance of saying one thing while thinking quite another are universal and despite being often explored tropes, they seem to just keep making us laugh. Moffat takes these behaviours and gives them a wonderfully absurd twist, allowing the domestic setting to become the backdrop for a situation that grows progressively more ridiculous. The comedy is broad, accessible and occasionally dark, with the pleasure coming less from the mystery of Elsa's past than from watching an ordinary family struggle to manage an increasingly extraordinary predicament.
The characters are deliberately familiar, from the uptight mum and forgetful dad to the brooding teenagers, and much of the comedy comes from the audience recognising these types and anticipating how they might respond to the chaos around them. While there is not always a great deal of complexity beneath the surface, the archetypes suit the heightened world of the play. This is a comedy that knows what it is, and there is an uncomplicated pleasure in watching its characters stumble through a situation that becomes more absurd with every attempt to regain control.
At times, I would have welcomed a little more surprise in the writing, or a greater willingness to push beyond the established comic tropes, although I completely appreciate that the familiarity of the characters is also part of the show's accessibility. The play does not necessarily reinvent the comedy of social embarrassment, but it finds enough humour in the premise to sustain an entertaining evening.
Much of that enjoyment rests with the cast, who approach the material with a strong sense of its comic possibilities. Helen Thomson is, as always, a joy to watch on stage. There is an assurance and ease to her performance that immediately draws the eye, and she has a particularly appealing ability to find humour in the smallest details of a character. As Elsa, she brings a combination of confidence, eccentricity and apparent innocence that makes the character both entertaining and unsettling. Elsa's effect on those around her is central to the play's comedy, and Thomson certainly commands that attention. Her comic timing is assured, and she knows when to lean into a moment and when to allow the audience to discover the humour for themselves. She is a terrific fit for the role, and one of the production's greatest assets.
The ensemble is strong throughout, with Alex Lee and Tim Walter establishing the domestic dynamic at the centre of the story, while Ty Arnott and Brooklyn Davies contribute to the family atmosphere as the teenagers. Huw Higginson and Ben Wood round out the cast, helping to populate the play's world and sustain its comic momentum. There is a clear sense of the ensemble working together within the heightened style of the piece, and the performances are generally well judged. The characters may be archetypal, but the cast approaches them with commitment and an understanding of the particular rhythms required for this kind of comedy. The result is a production that remains engaging despite the fact that some roles are necessarily more fully realised than others. The company keeps the absurdity moving and the play is sensible in its duration so as not to drag this craziness too long.
One of the less successful elements of the production is its use of accents. Though the accents are delivered correctly and are consistently convincing, there are moments when the accents seem to come at the expense of the natural flow of the dialogue. In a play so dependent on timing, conversational rhythm and the quick exchange of comic observations, the pace of the dialogue often feels a bit stunted.
The stand out of this production is Isabel Hudson's set design. Grand, functional and beautifully realistic, the set establishes the domestic world of the play with an impressive sense of detail and scale. It is a space that feels genuinely lived in, providing a convincing environment for the increasingly ridiculous events that unfold within it. The craftmanship on display, the scale of the set and the overall quality of the design gives this space such a visual richness that the entire production is elevated accordingly. It is more than simply an attractive backdrop. The set's functionality supports the action, allowing the comedy to develop within a space that feels genuinely lived in.
The extended blackouts were a rather strange directorial choice by Phillips in my opinion. They just interrupted the rhythm of the action in a way that feel unnecessary. Given how much this play relies on the accumulation of awkwardness and the momentum of its comic exchanges, I just felt that some of them were unnecessary...and very long.
Despite this, the show honestly just offers a fun night out. Not the most memorable of shows from this year's very strong STC season but a good night all the same.
