IT’S FAIR to say that most people have some sort of reaction to their partner’s ex-partners. It could be shock as ‘my god, but s/he is so average/mad/stunningly beautiful/hideously rude… or it could be disbelief ‘but he’s a she and I’m a he’… Whatever it is, it’s really hard to imagine that other, not-you person, fitting with your partner (who, hopefully, now fits so perfectly well with you).

Perhaps part of that disbelief comes from the fact that you don’t want to admit, even less visualise, that other person in your place doing couple things and believing their coupling had a future (which, we can assume, would exclude you). Perhaps the other part, however, comes from realising that while people may have ‘a’ character or ‘a’ personality, that character or personality is a sum of its parts. So, while your partner may have been dating an ice-skating drama queen before he meet you – a carbon neutral, bike ridding baker – that doesn’t mean he’s had a personality change. It just means he used to like watching her sequins but now he likes watching your well toned calf muscles.

Some Girl(s) – the Neil LaBute play currently being performed at the Silo Theatre – draws on this very idea. Except, rather than one person meeting their partners other partners, Some Girl(s) is about one guy going to back to see four of his past partners before he gets married. Just like the scenario I trotted through above, this storyline could be a fascinating exploration of human versatility and capricious qualities like taste, attraction and empathy.

But something just doesn’t work. And I’m not sure why. Because, as I’ve said, the premise is a good one: one guy, one last minute, pre-wedding panic and four very different women in four cities.

Perhaps it’s because it’s all so equal: there are two vignettes or re-meetings before intermission and then two, of equal length, after the intermission. The women walk in, wonder, openly, why they’re there, go through a bit of their history, reveal (once again) that he’s been a very average boyfriend and tell him what they think. He shrugs, gets a wee bit flustered and then shows them the door. Enter the next one.

Perhaps it’s because we don’t feel anything for Guy – we don’t love him and we don’t hate him. Indeed, if anything, all we feel towards him is a little pity mixed in with apathy. That’s not to say Roy Snow doesn’t do an admirable job with the character but, more to say that the character is about as deep as a petri dish so what can he do?

Perhaps it’s because none of the women do anything out of what quickly becomes the ordinary. As I’ve said, they arrive, tell their tale, have a wee moan and then leave. They all take the same time to do this and they all go through the motions in a very calculated and detached manner – even the first ex-girlfriend, Sam (Jacque Drew) who has a very desperate housewife / Starbucks moment.

Perhaps it’s because we don’t like him, we don’t really bind with any of the women (although I’d love to be friends with Madeline Sami’s skilfully played character Tyler) and the Silo theatre is so goddamn hot and coffin-like you’re sure, that at any moment, you’re about to choke on your neighbours carbon dioxide.

What do I think would have worked? Well, I’m not Neil LaBute who is a master of his craft, and I can’t fault the acting or the direction or the staging or the costumes or or or… BUT why not have Guy visit six or seven girls? Why not have one walk in, yell and scream and walk out? Why not have one turn up, take five minutes to completely verbally assonate him then leave? Why not get one woman to turn up with photos and letters – some forgotten boxers even – light a little fire then turn heal? Why not get one to admit her undying love before showing him a tattoo she has of him on her left breast? Why be so conventional? Why make them all the same length, same pattern and same outcome?

And while I am on ‘whys’ – why, if he is a writer (he’s has some small success – shown some commercial promise) does he seem like a banker or an internet whiz kid gone lost soul? Which is to say, as a writer he should be a: very articulate, sharp and vicious OR b: bumbling, totally preoccupied and naively endearing. Of course there are many writers who don’t fit either of these small generic boxes but they’re boxes that work.

Clearly then, I’m confused. Great writer, stellar cast, grand production effort and my favourite theatre venue (even given the whole suffocation thing) and yet… No. Doesn’t fly. Even with all the 747 ‘coming in to land’ noise they pipe through to mark the change of women.

Originally published in The Lumière Reader.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

There’s been a lot of LaBute about lately, due (for Auckland audiences) to Silo Theatre’s programming.

Some Girl(s), his latest play, explores the egocentric, self indulgent actions of Guy – a successful writer in his mid 30’s who is about to marry a young nurse after two decades of commitment-phobia – as he arranges 4 meetings with ex-lovers in hotels rooms in Seattle, Chicago, Boston and LA.

While this production is smooth and slick – to the point that at times it’s like watching an American sitcom – Neil LaBute’s exploration into the darker side of Guy’s actions, saves this piece from being light. It delves into the side of human nature that drives us to act in a way to fulfil our own agendas, to the point where we stop being honest with others, and to ourselves. While billed as "caustic, black and bloody funny", the play is little more than a comment on hidden agendas, as he explores some bad aspects of the male psyche.

There is a twist near the end, that shows the lengths Guy is willing to go to reel in good material for his writing, but I needed more, given that we already knew Guy had based previously published short stories, on his failed relationships, capitalising on his legacy of broken hearts and pain.

I have a major issue with LaBute’s Guy. He is given few redeeming features. For a writer, Guy articulates badly, is verbally clumsy and does little to hide his inflated ego. More to the point, through his women, we find out he was quick to leave when the going got tough, dishonest and distracted in his relationships. It got to the point where I wondered how any attractive, intelligent, sophisticated woman could’ve fallen for him.

Guy is revolting; right from his the first reunion with ex #1. He is not on an emotional journey of self-discovery or development, and we increasingly hope the next ex will undo him completely. Although the stakes get higher during each visit, by the end, Guy’s indifference towards the pain he has caused women, remains. As he easily slips from confessing "I love you" to #4, to talking about the weather with his fiancé on the phone, he appears to have no conscience.

For all that, the very likable Roy Snow excels in the role of the unlike-able Guy, with a convincing mix fake apology and manipulation.

The first reunion is, appropriately, with his first love, high school sweetheart Sam, played extremely well by Jacque Drew. Drew is particularly good as she corners Guy about his prom night deceit. Perhaps because Drew is American herself, the dialogue feels more authentic in this opening scene, compared to later conversations, which verge on forced and unlikely.

The second liaison is with the sexually charged and aggressive, free spirited Tyler, played by Madeleine Sami. Even the self-assured Tyler, though, admits Guy caused her pain. Sami effortlessly oozes sex appeal and confidence and her performance is stunning. Meow.

The third meeting reveals a married older woman, Lindsay, played by Alison Bruce. Toughened by the loss of dignity she endured when the affair was exposed and Guy ran, Bruce is perfectly cast here and relishes the opportunity to play out some sweet revenge and regain the power and control Lindsay lost. Yet this strong woman, too, reveals she was left hurt at the time.

Finally Bobbi appears: his love from college days and ‘the one that got away’. Michelle Langstone uses stillness to great affect as she articulates the (you guessed it), hurt Guy inflicted. Although Bobbi’s dialogue becomes grandiose at times, Langstone’s performance is quietly strong and decisive. 

Direction by Margaret-Mary Hollins is subtle and her blocking well reasoned, using gestures and cross overs between Guy and his women, to highlight his manipulation.

Set design by Rachel Walker wisely uses just one generic hotel room for the job at hand, which is complemented well by a clean, specific lighting design by Andrew Malmo. (Domestic lamps either side of the bed as you’d expect, etc).

Costume designer Justine Hunter (for Zambezi) gives all in the cast, a chic, urban look. While the women’s clothes are stunning, only some of the garments are appropriate the character. So while Lindsay (college professor) looks well suited, Sam (mother of two from the suburbs) looks far too sophisticated.

While I found the structure formulaic, and felt increasingly detached from Guy as he systematically confronts the lovers he left, to "right the wrongs", in a thinly veiled quest for new material, the capacity audience was engaged and involved from beginning to end.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer