The Christmas Dinner - Review

A couple of types of people that are entertaining to watch and listen to are comedians and obnoxious people. The absolute most entertaining people to watch and listen to are obnoxious people who think they’re comedians and that’s just what Second Skin Theatre’s new venture, “The Christmas Dinner”, by Duncan Stevens, provides. What could be better to get you into the Christmas mood than watch four characters you definitely couldn’t stand in real life drive each other crazy with anecdotes that would shame the Daily Mail (not that that’s difficult) and scandals to rock the purple walled basement boat.

Clara and Terrence are having a Christmas meal complete with expensive brandy and refillable bottles of red burgundy (as you do) and even with a rather unimpressive centrepiece they endeavour to get sloshed with their friends Richard and Rachel. What follows is a partly improvised performance of some of the worst – in a good way – jokes you will hear this Christmas, including those your Uncle decides to share after a few glasses of port. From Rachel’s third world experiences that changed her, apparently from an irritating but wholesomely hilarious high society diva who laughs at her own poor jokes to an equally irritating high society diva but who’s been on a safari on a gin addled stomach... and still laughs at her own very poor jokes. Then there’s Richard’s homework from the couple therapy sessions that prove more embarrassing as a result of his own guilt and Terrence’s resulting wordplay that really makes the audience gleam with guiltily gleeful giggles, a response all the actor’s feed off. The meal soon turns into something more sinister and disturbing but in a very different way.

Andy McQuade directs leaving room for the small and the big changes that a partly improvised script needs, but never forgetting the crucial moments that make the story work. The performances here are so easy to watch with a chemistry and a true ensemble that never wanes. George Collie performs Richard with a terrific posh pout whenever he is interrupted and a notorious “yah” at the end of each sentence so as to ensure the lowly beings in the room are grasping the significance of his words and the importance of his presence, a hard feat with a wife like Rachel and her sarcastic input between wine slurps. From the coke snorting to the agonising embarrassment, Collie is a riot. Sarita Plowman makes Rachel the perfect self aware and slightly intoxicated sidekick whose main aim is to bring her husband back down to a more manageable level, which sometimes seems to be six feet under where the ground has swallowed him up. Then there’s the lovely Clara, played by Sally Lofthouse, who brings the most low key performance to the table, quite literally and purposefully. Lofthouse still conveys one-liners and utter disgust with gusto but displays at least a little sense and human decency, or so she would have you think. Terrence is her husband, a cocky city worker with a penchant for defending his very purple surroundings and with a knack for poking fun at the others with satisfyingly quick puns. Matthew Howell portrays very real joy at his own comedic success which is sometimes funnier than the wordplay and brings a completely relaxed and unashamed presence to the room.

Duncan Stevens has written a show of disturbing intensity whether the characters are talking rubbish, making jokes, eating food, being menacing or dealing with the end of their days, but it never ceases to leave the audience and the characters on the edge, waiting for the inevitable doom you kind of hope comes to them. He writes with a wicked sense of humour that effortlessly translates to stage and to Andy McQuade’s dark direction.

You won’t be disappointed. Just go and laugh at some annoyingly posh people and their ultimate demise... Playing until Sunday.