Ruben Guthrie by Brendan Cowell
BSharp at Belvoir Street
Unedited version of review published in The Daily Telegraph 
It’s quite timely that Brendan Cowell’s new play, Ruben Guthrie should tackle the topical issue of drinking and alcoholism. In Cowell’s piece, however, it isn’t a rugby league player or swimmer that he takes aim at but rather the wealthy lifestyle of a young advertising whiz at the height of success.
It’s the typical story, Ruben (Toby Schmitz) has it all – the car, the supermodel girlfriend, the well paying job and the great apartment.
But part and parcel of his life is the celebratory and what follows is the socialising, the drinking and the party drugs. Sure enough, his girlfriend leaves and Ruben is forced to analyse his living.
Forced to attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, Guthrie ends up with a polar opposite view to his drinking, getting involved with an obsessed ex-junkie (Megan Drury). Ruben suddenly finds himself in between love, in between conflicting social attitudes to his drinking and in between his family.
Directed by Wayne Blair, this is a tight production that uses the intimate Downstairs Belvoir theatre with an inventive design that ensures the pace doesn’t drop. Cowell’s script, however, just isn’t interesting enough to keep you engaged.
Cowell clearly displays his skills in wit, which is appropriately displayed during fast paced and clever scenes at Ruben’s advertising workplace and with his father, excellently portrayed by Lex Marinos. But the plot is predictable and the female characters two-dimensional and it is here that Cowell’s normally excellent writing lets the audience down.
Until 11 May
$23-29
Bookings 9699 3444 belvoir.com.au
25 Belvoir Street Surry Hills
Wednesday, 23 April 2008
Review: Ruben Guthrie
Posted by Nicholas Pickard at 9:10 am
Labels: Australian Plays, Review, Theatre
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17 comments:
Sounds a bit like the Seinfeld episode where Jerry realises 12 Step meetings are a great place to hook up.
Hi Anonymous - yes, I felt it was more TV than theatre - I didn't find it theatrical at all and Nicholas has mentioned the thin characterisation in the writing. I found it a disapointing evening given Cowells usually insired moments of the past. It's conservative and uninteresting.
Independent Theatre Go-er
I felt the same. Am perplexed why Pickard has so far ignored "The Year of Magical Thinking" which for my money was the most perfectly realised piece of theatre I have seen in ages. James Waites and Diana Simmonds (who usually hates everything at the STC) seem to agree.
I suspect that's because Pickard didn't see "The Year of Magical Thinking".
Why not?
Alex Lalak was the assigned reviewer from the Telegraph for that show... and besides, there have been recent howls of protest over too much STC content on the blog.
Do I take it, that that embargo is over now?
In the spirit of fairness and balance, maybe it is possible that the STC do something well every now and then?
I wonder if the the invitation was sent to "Anyone but Nicholas Pickard, C/- The Daily Telegraph, Holt Street ..."
All I can say is Nicholas if you are as serious about theatre as you make out, then it seems odd you wouldn't just go. As I said, anything that gets Diana Simmonds enraptured at her nemesis the STC has to arouse one's curiosity. If beautiful writing, subtle direction, and the most finely wrought and nuanced performance seen in that building since Judy Davis' Hedda are of any passing interest to you, go. Hell, go nuts and buy a ticket if you must.
Goodness Theatre enthusiast - critics can't afford to go to the theatre! Everyone knows that.
Actually, the issue of opening night freebies is a particular bug-bear of mine. My theory is that the reason most Sydney opening nights are tepid affairs (apart from sometimes mediocre theatre!) is that the show is performed for a Potemkin-village-like fake audience, i.e. friends, critics, sponsors and hangers-on who have all been given free seats. The result is that there is no value attached to the evening the way there is at opening nights in other parts of the world where a good eighty per cent of the house is made of the general public who booked months in advance, paid for the tickets, and have been looking forward to the night with keen anticipation. It creates a totally different, and far more energised dynamic, an actual buzz. The audience is willing the show to be good, the actors to be good, because everyone feels they have an investment in it. On those magical nights when it really is a wonderful performance, the audience shares the thrill of discovery and the reaction is thrilling. I have never known that here, at least not nearly to the same extent (forget the perfunctory standing ovations at musicals) and feel it is because a house full of people just as interested in the free grog afterwards and what others are wearing as they are in the play will never give a true or generous response to the piece. Sorry for the rant.
In defence of Diana Simmonds - I have never got the impression of the STC being her nemesis. Now that we have access to her long form critical responses (some of the best written critical analysis available in Sydney at the moment) it is easy to understand the reasoning behind many of her criticisms of work she sees, including that of the STC. Given how appalling their work can be I think she has been fairly restrained in her negative responses and generous in her positive ones.
Sam
But, having said that, I saw Ruben Guthrie tonight and find myself disagreeing with Diana.
It is interesting to put Brendan Cowell’s new work Ruben Guthrie in the context of the early work of great theatre writers like Eugene O’Neill. O’Neill wrote over twenty plays, most of them performed, before starting to write great work The early plays are rough, exciting, passion filled, problematic, experimenting, filled with difficulties and unevenness, and remarkable for the flashes of brilliance that would later coalesce to form the work he is known for. Brendan Cowell shows these flashes of brilliance in his writing. His dexterity with language is getting more sophisticated, his sureness of what is possible in staging a story is growing, and he is developing the desire and balls to tackle big subjects rather than just remaining the cool kid on the street. The dots of brilliance are not connecting into a brilliant whole as yet, but belief in the future of a writer is important. In a few months we have been fortunate to see the distance traveled by Michael Gow as a writer from “The Kid” to “Toy Symphony”. One day we will look back on these early works of Brendan Cowell and forgive the unevenness while we enjoy the passion, energy and experiments knowing that they were the seeds of his future works.
Forgive the imperfections now. He knows how to begin a play. He knows how to get us in. The middle of the play is the place where most growth has happened in this script – the ideas are better articulated, the relations between characters getting more complex. He is still struggling with the last third – the big question being once he has us, where does he take us that matters? You can feel his naturally cocky humour wrestling with an encouraging desire to write with seriousness about a subject matter that is deeply unfunny. Ultimately in this work he does not reconcile his wit with the devastating reality of alcoholism. His verbal riffing is still a bit ‘look at me write’ and that is not always helped by Toby Schmitz’s ‘look at me be the perfect actor for Brendan’s cool boy writing’ acting. All but the central characters are mostly functional still. And Nicholas is right it is formally very conservative work – but he may never be an experimenter in form (so maybe the O’Neill reference was a bit wrong)
Without spoiling the story, perhaps the final scene is an illustration of his commercial instinct for creating ‘a good night out’ at war with content demanding a more brutal end. The ending he has ensures a sold out run, which for an independent venue is no mean feat. It does, however, leave me looking forward to his courage as a writer developing more so that he does not have to hide behind a happy ending. And ultimately his characters all carry the Cowell tone still – they are all as funny in the same way – with some of the actors struggling more than others to add believable human dimension to the overarching Cowell language. It reminds me of the challenge actors face in differentiating and humanizing some of David Williamson’s characters.
But Cowell is on track. He is doing exactly what a developing writer must: he is working in an independent space finally relieved of the oppressive pressure of the STC gaze, he is regularly putting his work up into production, he is testing himself with subject matter with a serious edge and he is gradually burning through his bag of tricks. Downstairs Belvoir is the perfect place for him to keep working for a while. If he puts up a play a year there over the next ten years – plays he wants to write, rather than plays others want from him - he will certainly be the one of the best writers this country has seen. I look forward to the plays he will write in his sixties. Sorry this has got a bit long. Got a bit carried away.
Sam
Sam--you may be right about Simmonds--and given the fact that today's SMH has an ad for "Magical Thinking" with a quote from her, I would say a truce has been affected! Also, when it comes to "appalling" theatre as you call it, if we are honest I don't think any one company can be singled out--I have seen bad theatre at every company in Sydney, and sometimes very good theatre as well. The sin is not in failing, the sin is not in trying.
While Ruben Guthrie was by no means perfect, and it may be that Cowell is still having trouble with writing strong female characters that are more than comic foils for his male protagonists, I still thought this was a beautiful piece of writing, particularly the opening monologue (through which, I think, he gained the commission).
I also thought the script dealt with the idea of finding a place somewhere between Anglo binge-drinking and the more European philosophy of alcohol as a form of food that one has in moderation, rather than going down the Taliban-like fundamentalist AA path.
While I can see how some people might have a problem with the ambiguity of the ending I liked it. Real life doesn't closure.
Interesting to note that the subject matter didn't seem to hurt bar sales none, something Brendan and I spoke about recently, and which you can read at http://benitodifonzo.blogspot.com/
Did it come across clearly that I actually liked this play and that I thought it was the first time someone had written about alcohol without coming across all preachy? Sorry, I'm note very good with words...
Does anyone else think that the European philosophy of alcohol is "as a form of food that one has in moderation"?
What a total furphy.
It is this weird romantic notion we have of one sitting in Tuscany surrounded by olive trees, beautiful company, wine, cheese and bread.
What rubbish.
Go to any main street in Rome, Vienna, Madrid, Prague, Moscow, Berlin and feel a sense of deja vu to Oxford Street on a Saturday night.
Actually, if you get on a Roman Nite Ride (Nocturnobus I think they call it) you'll find that all the Italians tend to be reasonably sober, it's just the Aussie, Pom, German and Yank backbackers that are wallowing in their own crapulence...
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