“Despite everything, the performances are – individually and collectively – quite wonderful”
What exactly is Terry Johnson saying in “The Sex Party”? It is probably the biggest question being asked as the audience leave the Menier Chocolate Factory, but the answer lies at the far end of a very circuitous route, littered with the roadkill of dozens of other debates – some bigger, some smaller, some old and some new. If Johnson had the answer, we would probably be watching a shorter play, but we would also be witnessing the premier of something ground-breaking, brave and unprecedented. As it stands, though, Johnson’s writing, whilst being wonderfully sharp, gives itself too many challenges.
But there is one question that pulls focus from all the others. Johnson has (semi) joked in interviews that this play runs the risk of him getting himself “cancelled”. And he has already confessed to losing friends – not because of the subject matter but because of the new vocabulary and attitudes he has had to adjust to and adopt. The characters in the drama have similar fallings out. Honestly. Is this progress?
Like Mike leigh’s “Abigail’s Party”, there is more than way to look at “The Sex Party”. We can recoil from the cringe-worthy pretension of the faux pas and twitter-feed platitudes, or we can see it as a portrait of individual and marital unhappiness. Unfortunately, the focus is bound to fall onto the former, which leaves the cast with a much harder job. Despite everything, the performances are – individually and collectively – quite wonderful.
Alex (Jason Merrells) and his young girlfriend Hetty (Molly Osborne) are hosting their first sex party. Osborne gives a standout portrayal of the submissive liberal – one who excuses coercion if it can be seen to be a personal choice. The party guests are trawled from the internet or chance meetings, with the exception of Alex’s old flame Gilly (Lisa Dawn) and her tetchy, jealous husband Jake (John Hopkins). Jeff (a wonderfully gruff, outspoken and debauched Timothy Hutton) barges onto the scene with a rich presence we outwardly resent while secretly finding his offensiveness funny. Magdalena, his Russian trophy wife (Amanda Ryan) is in tow, upstaging him – and everyone else – with her ludicrous and laughable opinions. (They say that many a true word is spoken in jest). Enter cool and aware Camilla (Kelly Price) with posh-but-dim, blond-haired buffoon Tim (an impressive Will Barton who occasionally channels another prominent posh-but-dim, blond-haired buffoon). The elephant in the room is Lucy (Pooya Mohseni), a transgender woman who throws a spanner into the works, sets the cat among the pigeons, and generally throws every other metaphor and cliché into the mix.
Mohseni doesn’t enter until the end of Act One. Up until then the piece can be enjoyed as a kind of alternative kitchen sink drama. Although it is a beautifully crafted kitchen sink in Tim Shortall’s stunning set that depicts a stylish Islington fitted kitchen. They are all in the kitchen at this party, only occasionally retreating offstage into the lounge for some staggered and brief sex. Conversation is awkward and the debates more varied than in the second half. It is clear, though, that Johnson is poking fun at the characters and not the subjects they are discussing. This is an important point, and one that is so often missed.
After interval the tone darkens, but narrows its focus. But this could well be the brilliant purpose of the writing. At one point, Lisa Dawn – who gives us a show stealing performance throughout – laments the fact that her own issues are completely overlooked and overshadowed by the subjects that have bulldozed themselves into the collective and confused consciousness. Mohseni, the flagship of self-identity in this piece, does her best to moderate the argument with poise and a coolness that seems to be telling us that it really shouldn’t matter.
“The Sex Party” is putting its head above the parapet. It is certain to be knocked down. It deals with prejudice, but the irony is that the same prejudices will inform people’s perception of the play before they have even seen it. Which is a shame. Yes, it could be pruned somewhat, and have fewer non-sequiturs and tangents, but Johnson’s writing is as acute and observant as ever; and often funny.
“You’ll leave the show feeling as though you’ve been to a rather wonderful party full of funny and charming people”
Past, present and future come together in a magnificent show by Maria Friedman and Friends at the Menier Chocolate Factory. It’s true that the music and songs of Legacy are a reminder of what we’ve recently lost, sadly. But in Legacy, Maria Friedman has assembled a company of singers and musicians to celebrate that past — and to give us a tantalizing peek into the future. As the show proceeds, we meet a dazzling line up of both experienced performers, and young singers making their stage debut. Above all, Legacy is a sing your heart out tribute to the songs of Marvin Hamlisch, Michel Legrand and Stephen Sondheim. The enthusiastic audience lapped it all up and begged for more.
Legacy is not just a great night out for fans of good music. In between the singing, and one great number by the band alone, Maria Friedman treats the audience to anecdotes about her life in musical theatre, including her memories of the men whose songs she sings, and whom she knew well. She connects with her audience easily — she’s full of warmth and self-deprecating humour. And she’s generous — not only in her introductions of the other performers on stage, but also the way in which she brings the audience into the show. Don’t be surprised if, on the night you visit, that’s literally what she does. On the night I was there, Friedman enthusiastically welcomed on stage Marvin Hamlisch’s widow Terre Blair. You’ll leave the show feeling as though you’ve been to a rather wonderful party full of funny and charming people.
The programme doesn’t give a completely accurate picture of what audiences will see on any one particular evening. Instead, Legacy puts together a number of well known numbers and reserves the right to add, or omit, to those on the list. The same holds true for the performers. What doesn’t change is the presence of Friedman herself, accompanied by the talents of long time friends Ian McLarnon and Matthew White. They are ably supported by stand out newcomers Desmonda Cathabel and Alfie Friedman. Friedman has not only inherited his mother’s talent — he brings something extra that is all his own. The band is superb, led by Theo Jamieson on piano, with Paul Moylan on double bass, and Joe Evans on drums. Legacy is a lively evening that modulates between boisterous ensemble numbers such as Hamlisch’s “I Hope I Get It”; an unusually upbeat “Windmills of Your Mind” (Legrand), to quieter, more intimate numbers such as “Old Friends” (Sondheim). And on this particular evening, as a tribute to International Women’s Day, Maria Friedman added a beautiful rendition of Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now.”
If you’ve never been to the Menier Chocolate Factory, don’t hesitate to make Maria Friedman and Friends’ Legacy a reason for a first visit to this warm and welcoming venue. Bring some friends of your own. They’ll thank you.
