Never Have I Ever
Black Swan Theatre Company
Heath Ledger Theatre
★★★
By the time Australian-born, British-based comedian Deborah Frances-White (of The Guilty Feminist podcast) came to write her first play Never Have I Ever, the seismic shift in culture and politics triggered by the exposure of Harvey Weinstein and the murder of George Floyd had moved into a reflective phase.
Will O’Mahony (Tobin), Ratidzo Mambo (Adaego), Emily Rose Brennan (Jacq) and Deep Sroa (Kaz) in Never Have I Ever.
Some argued that the world was more complex than depicted by so-called “woke” culture — that middle-class white men could be aware of their privilege and power and act decently and that women and people of colour could be powerful and were not always victims.
These contradictions are played out beautifully in the very funny opening of Never Have I Ever in which the owners of a swanky London restaurant — working-class chef Jacq (Emily Rose Brennan) and her lover/business partner Kas (Deep Sroa) — have invited their old university friends Tobin (Will O’Mahony) and Adaego (Ratidzo Mambo) to dinner to announce they’re shutting up shop and declaring bankruptcy.
Jacq and Kas are so progressive they came up with the nutty notion of individual cooking stations to make their customers feel safe in a post-COVID world, a venture backed by the progressive Tobin, who has made a fortune with his ethically driven investment company, supported by high-profile journalist and social justice warrior partner Adaego.
Unfortunately, the individual stations idea (beautifully rendered onstage by Bryan Woltjen, shooting flames into the air to coincide with the various emotional eruptions), was so expensive to operate that it sent the restaurant broke despite rave reviews and full sittings.
The amiable, understanding Tobin initially laughs off his sizeable loss. However, as Jacq, who dragged herself up from poverty, and the two people of colour take delight in razzing and rubbishing his attempt to make up for his white male privilege he gets increasingly agitated and defensive, setting the scene for seemingly innocuous sexual revelations during the titular drinking game that uncorks Tobin’s toxic side.
When writer Frances-White is poking fun at the various contradictions of this privileged quartet staking claims for their lower position on the gender/race/class ladder or their efforts to make the world a better place, the play is giddy, sophisticated fun, with the four terrific actors eliciting sympathy for their positions while making us laugh at their narcissism and blindness.
“I’m the Michelle Obama of the group!” declares Tobin, who spends the first act justifying his ethically acquired wealth and criticising the others for claiming to be progressive but making much less real-world impact than he does.
And there are some genuinely great arguments in the other direction, such as Adaego’s story about being mistaken for a waitress at some swish event and Tobin just brushing it off so as not to make trouble.
While Tobin is smug and lacks insight — O’Mahony is especially good at mining the uncertainty and desperation lurking under a suave surface — the mid-play revelation and his reaction is so aggressive and unpleasant that all sense of this being a satire on the excesses of cultural enlightenment are tossed out as it mutates into an increasingly far-fetched sisterhood revenge thriller.
Will O’Mahony, Emily Rose Brennan, Deep Sroa and Ratidzo Mambo in Never Have I Ever.
Emily Rose Brennan in Never Have I Ever.
There’s nothing wrong with Tobin getting his comeuppance — he deserves it — but the narrative convolutions needed to demonise this increasingly nasty moneybags and to justify the actions of the two women and as well as keep Kas on side are so awkward and unbelievable it leaves the audience confused about what they’re watching.
It’s a shame Frances-White felt the need to put a finger on the scales so heavily because a more even-handed approach would have made for a richer, funnier and more interesting play, one to match Kate Champion’s superlative direction, Woltjen’s eye-popping set and the great work from the rest of the Black Swan team.
It’s a slick, sophisticated evening’s entertainment that’s undermined by an ending that makes little sense and works against what’s gone before.
Never Have I Ever plays at Heath Ledger Theatre until July 6.
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