Happy New ****

Happy New ****

Trafalgar Studio 2, London

EXCERPT: "a wonderfully gripping and gritty evening."

Review by Imogen Sarre 

At first, Happy New by Australian playwright Brendan Cowell seems to be a archetypal kitchen sink drama. By setting itself up as such, subsequent departures from standard practices seem all the more dramatic and radical. At first, its focus appears to be the relationship of two brothers, Danny (William Troughton) and Lyle (Joel Samuels), and the issues sparked when Danny cheats on his girlfriend Pru (Lisa Dillon). As the play progresses, it becomes increasingly evident that something more unusual and disturbing is afoot. Dysfunctional relationships become complicated by signs of agoraphobia, but when Lyle closes the first half with a terrifyingly sinister and powerful performance in half chicken/rapist mode, we begin to doubt everything we thought we understood about the characters.

The second half explicates much more, through scenes set in the past and documentary-style reportage. Aged 10 and 12, the brothers were abandoned by their mother and forced to live in a chicken coop for several months. To survive, they had to learn coop power politics and the brutal realities of killing to eat. While this proves most illuminating about their bizarre behaviour traits, we don’t understand why the eminently normal Pru is romantically involved with Danny until the very last moment of the play. In a superb final twist, the unveiling of a hidden camera reveals that she’s been secretly filming the whole thing, presumably for a documentary. This casts an entirely new light on the whole piece, her character, relationships to the men, and our feelings about having been privy to the private scenes that we’ve seen unrolling before us.

Having such game-changing revelations happen so late on (exposing mental instability at the end of the first half as well as this documentary information) is a risky approach to take. Although very effective dramatically, and all ultimately explicated, it does mean that the majority of the time you are watching the play the performances have been tainted by a lack of credibility. It does also work the other way though: my quibbles about some clunky moments from Dillon (namely her anger at the start of the piece when she discovers that Danny has cheated on her) are undermined by this final repositioning of her role. Such an approach also prompts post-play analysis and makes the play’s execution ripe for discussion – so exactly what a good play should do. The delayed revelation tactic means that the whole piece feels more abstract, intriguing and unusual. It provides Samuels the opportunity to really wow: his physical transformation into a clucking chicken at the end of the first half was one of the most powerful assertion of sexual voraciousness that I have seen.

One major quibble I had, however, was with how the second half concluded – a fault to be laid both at Cowell and director Robert Shaw’s doorstep. On numerous occasions, we are presented with scenes ending in a way that could nicely conclude the whole play. However, blackouts and characters’ supposed departures are actually only scene changes. Every time the audience begins to think it might be the end of the play, they mentally withdraw from the play, only to realise that they have to re-immerse themselves in it. This funny dislocation occurs with such frequency that it made me feel the second half was too long, even though in terms of timing and content it really wasn’t.

Despite unsatisfactory moments, the overwhelming effect of the play was to be incredibly provocative, memorable and intriguing and – ultimately – a wonderfully gripping and gritty evening.