After Dinner - Sydney Theatre Co

Overview

Hot on the heels of last year’s Emerald City from Griffin, the Sydney Theatre Company have exhumed another child of the '80s with a production of Andrew Bovell’s awkward comedy After Dinner, directed by Imara Savage.

The setting is a dreary pub bistro (is there any other kind?) in which a lacklustre mural of ferns and a trough of dishevelled foliage compete to look the least like living objects. At two separate tables, the patrons — Gordon (Glenn Hazeldine), a bespectacled, timid-looking fellow on his own, and a waspish woman, Dympie (Rebecca Massey), and her fidgeting, energetic companion, Paula (Anita Hegh) — complete the ghastly aesthetic of pink tablecloth, fake flowers and leather-bound menus in their own ways; the former folds a small flock of paper cranes from the napkin supply, and the latter contemptuously pitches the plastic flora in with the flagging plants behind them.

But it is only when the girls are joined by Monica (Helen Thomson), and Gordon by Stephen (Josh McConville), that the play truly gets under way. It is revealed that this is Monica’s first night out since the death of her husband and that Gordon has been coaxed into the open with promises of deep discussion about his recent divorce. Neither are in for much sympathy; it’s difficult to tell whether Dympie is ordering dinner or trying to run a small dictatorship, and the only talking Brendan wants to do is with someone he can have sex with anywhere between shortly and immediately afterwards.

But as friends trade ugly truths and despair sets in, the two groups find themselves drawn together by more than terse pleasantries and the odd, disastrous pick-up line. It never really seems like love is on the table, but comfort, whether physical or emotional, is definitely up for grabs.

After Dinner has aged pretty well. With its soundtrack of '80s hits and deafening costumes, there is a strong sense that the nostalgia card is being played to its full value, but Bovell’s text is still a wonderful farce and is faithfully (read: uproariously) portrayed by a cast of great comic actors. There’s a bit of a sag in the middle and some of its bawdiness wears pretty thin, but the night I saw it, the audience laughed right through to an ending which set them cheering. There’s comedic embellishment aplenty here, but there is also an inelegant honesty to the characters which keeps the play grounded.

Don’t get me wrong, pineapple fritters are still the bomb. But After Dinner is the best thing I’ve found at a pub bistro in years.