This play has a great starting premise: Virginia (Lisa Chappell), a film lecturer whose specialty is romantic comedies, has her own love-hate relationship with resident monster movie expert (Will Hall).

But it’s not quite clever enough, and the main characters aren’t sympathetic enough, to pull off its coy, self-referential flirting with the audience: is it a romcom or not? Will they live happily ever after together? It takes 110 minutes (20 minutes longer than the advertised 90) to find out. [More]
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“You don’t have to stare at a dead dog for an hour and a half to know it stinks!” So runs Mike’s philosophy on reviewing theatre and walking out before the end. A brilliant line, one of many that places this play in the ‘definitely not a dead dog’ category.

Homage, parody, send up or piss take? It’s hard to know for sure where the authors were wanting to take this (it has to be said) typical ‘all plotlines there and all bases covered’ romantic comedy. It is, after all, a simple boy meets girl, girl hates boy, boy and girl falls in love, boy and girl split then… the end is ambiguous and of course that’s the intention but we didn’t need to be given the lines to read between. It is fairly obvious. 

In fact it’s all obvious, and I think that is why this play is a cracker. It runs like a well-oiled typewriter and it works on the level that is parodied within the play. We know what’s coming, we’re comfortable in the territory and even though we know they’ll be surprises and laughs along the way, we know it will all end happily. This genre will always go down well: the fun is not in where we end up, but how we get there. 

Kathryn Burnett and Nick Ward have honed a refreshing script, peppered with well-turned phrases, belly laughs and some beautiful insights. Their screen experience creeps through though with one too many short scene after short scene, though I have to admit it was handled well with snapshots of ‘set’ on the back wall. 

Lisa Chappell and Will Hall play the title characters, film lecturers both with firm beliefs on romantic-comedies. She prefers the art film, for him it’s everything that’s B-grade. Along the way they ‘lecture’ on the ins and outs, pros and cons of rom-coms and then, of course, mirror them in their own tempestuous relationship. 

Chappell’s Virginia and Wall’s Mike largely represent the two sides of humour in the piece. She is classy, full of wit, biting and dripping with literary sarcasm. He peddles the gutter humour, the sexual and sexist banter. Both hit home: bullseye! 

Again, as is nearly always the case, the secondary characters of Sally and Harry steal the audience’s heart, not having the unenviable task of appearing on every page. Used largely as a Greek chorus and shoulder to cry on they provide insight, exposition and fill-ins for Mike and Virginia’s past lives. 

Michele A’Court is a delight. As befits her background, her comic timing is perfection and she translates it oh so easily to the scripted stage. Her acting style is smooth and she masters that hardest of all tricks, of being motionless whilst relating a heartbreaking anecdote. Definitely the highlight of the evening, she excels in moving from hard-arsed sex-mad man hunter to a woman with a little bit more insight than we first give her credit for. The dainty comedienne should do more theatre; she looks as if she’s to the manner born and would be a welcome addition to any company.

Stephen Papps gives us a gorgeous labourer in Harry, reflecting on his philosophy of life in terms of his job and past relationships, again at opportune times to coincide with the main characters. His constant look of bewilderment and black and white attitude is a nice contrast. Both Papps and A’Court’s brief speeches are laugh out loud and their inevitable meeting is priceless. (Clever writing in that we don’t ‘get’ that there is a Harry and Sally until they have actually ‘met’.) 

Erin Wallace completes the company of five as new age poet Melissa, who is part driven by teenage angst and despair over love for all sexes. A well-delivered debut. 

Director Te Radar has kept a steady hand on this play. Running at a little over an hour and forty-five, with no interval, it doesn’t drag in terms of performance. 

Twice, though, we thought the end had come and applauded accordingly. Twice it continued and, albeit with no ill feeling on our part, it did maybe have one or two glance at their watches. Maybe an inclusion of an interval or a smoother flow at these points? Who knows.

But on a pre-winter evening, if you fancy a bit of television theatre, full of laughs, Mike and Virginia are the one’s you want to go and be with. 
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