The Mystery of Love and Sex - Darlinghurst Theatre Co.

Overview

"Sometimes I think the only way to be truthful is to say nothing at all," says Thuso Lekwape's Johnny, reflecting on an evening spent with Charlotte's (Contessa Treffone) parents. The sentiment may not completely sum up Darlinghurst Theatre Company's latest production, but there is a sense that the play says an awful lot without conveying much of anything.

The Mystery of Love and Sex, written by Bathsheba Doran, centres around Charlotte and Johnny, two American college students who have been friends for an age. Their relationship is easy, comfortable, solid — a bond that romance would only confuse. Charlotte's parents (Deborah Galanos and Nicholas Papademetriou) can't get their heads around this and try to nudge the pair into something more clear-cut. But Charlotte's in love with a girl from college. And Johnny has slept with a number of men he can't stand. Both are confused and as things get more complicated, the friendship starts to fray.

The cast, directed by Anthony Skuse, are engaging, but the script seems to have a set-'em-up-knock-'em-down approach to the issues it explores. It tries to juggle questions about how friendship changes as we age, friendship versus marriage and how we come to terms with our sexual identities, but ends up flitting between them without ever stopping to pinpoint exactly what it's getting at. Except for an intimate scene shared by Charlotte and her mother, the second half quickly descends into an unsatisfying fairy tale.

That said, Galanos' Lucinda is fantastic, pulling off a transition from quietly crumbling nicotine addict to a revolutionary for the hedonist cause within the space of the intermission. Lekwape's Johnny is understated, but he ages very convincingly over the course of the play. Papademetriou's Howard is amusingly and frustratingly paternal throughout, despite the script affording him very little development and Truffone manages a fine line with Charlotte, whose self-righteous streak might have been grating in other hands.

Emma Vine's set runs pleasant interference on the naturalism of the text — a giant upside down tree sits menacingly to the side in the dusky pre-show light, while the majority of the action takes place on a large white wedge, its wonkiness geometrically jazzing up a few of the talkier scenes.

"Weird is good," says Lucinda, attempting to comfort her daughter during the play. "Weird is life." The Mystery of Love and Sex, while performed capably, needs a few more doses of weirdness before it can be mistaken for the real thing.