The Lunch Hour

Actors are sometimes accused of narcissism, attention-seeking behaviour and daftness. This play isn't helping.
Jessica Keath
Published on September 19, 2012

Overview

Actors are sometimes accused of narcissism, attention-seeking behaviour and daftness. The Lunch Hour by Chris Aronsten at Darlinghurst Theatre, directed by Kate Gaul, is not helping.

The play is a self-referential, singing, dancing farce about actors employed at a theatre box office, where they surreptitiously work on grant applications and project ideas whilst being hounded by their ineffectual washed-up boss, Martin, a playwright.

Theatre about theatre can be plagued by in-jokes and narrowness, but it doesn't have to be a sentence to irrelevance. The Sydney Theatre Company's The Histrionic was about theatre as well as (among other things) the xenophobia of Austria and, by extension, Australia. The Lunch Hour, by comparison, is theatre about only theatre. It reveals some extreme narcissism on the part of Aronsten and a poor programming decision by Darlinghurst Theatre. 

What seems to have been intended as a cathartic group hug for struggling artists is more like an embarrassing 'overshare', to use an ugly word. These details of actors' lives are neither interesting nor dramatic. Often when plot is missing there are at least some remarkable relationships to hone in on, which in this case are also not forthcoming.

Some of the cast have moments of triumph over the text. For example, Branden Christine playing a grouchy Fran has some smooth dance moves and very funny rapping. Similarly, Briallen Clarke playing a dopey Felicity and Bali Padda playing the cleaner, Ali, were comic standouts.

The problem with this play is not so much its tiny scope but its complete lack of breadth. David Williamson and Joanna Murray-Smith may be prime examples of Australian parochialism, but they at least attempt to tell relevant stories, after a fashion. The Lunch Hour is not only provincial; it is also about absolutely nothing. Thankfully, this sort of infantile storytelling is an exception to Sydney's otherwise stimulating theatre community.

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