The Bear is the inaugural production from the fledgling Outbox, a rather inspiring initiative aimed at combining the relative talents and energies of successful veterans and prospective young up-and-comers in the industry. 

It’s a good play to launch a company with – brief but penetrating, quirky and hilarious. It’s also somewhat ahead of its time; an acerbic and insightful battle-of-the-sexes written, as it was, in 1888, prior to the better-known classic dramas of Anton Chekhov. Indeed, a forty-minute long Chekhov sounded like an oxymoron to me, but here it is as fresh and pertinent as any comparative modern work. 

Residents of Devonport’s historic Victoria Theatre (still also operating as a cinema), Outbox Theatre are blessed with a modestly opulent, antiquitous proscenium arch venue in which their projected season of modern classics ought to be right at home. 

The simplistic set for The Bear – ostensibly designed for functionality in travel* by Steven Morrison, who also directs – makes excellent use of the extant rear brick wall, flanking it with tall blacks and bedecking the stage in front with classical furniture covered with drop cloths. The easel by the centre chair, containing a small picture of the widow Popova’s late husband, has dirty paint jars and brushes scattered around its base, suggesting she’s painted it herself although there’s no mention of it. 

The curtain rises to reveal a handsome, white haired woman in a long black dress, mournfully serenading the memory of her late husband on what is revealed to be 7 months after his death. Elena Stejko’s humorously intense portrayal of the widow Elena Popova is feisty and vulnerable in equal measures, effusively smouldering with maudlin passion. 

Enter Gregory Smirnov, retired lieutenant, horse feed vendor and self-proclaimed misogynist, played by Steven Papps, who offers a similarly schizoid combination of brusque rage and philosophical tenderness. Ignoring the request to leave the mourning widow in peace, Smirnov barges on in to unceremoniously demand payment for Mr. Popova’s outstanding oats bill. 

The ensuing exchange packs in a lot of insight to the human condition, liberally infused with ironic wit. I, for one, hadn’t before considered the ambiguity of the classic duel-challenging phrase “I demand satisfaction!” 

The performances are strong, as is the essential chemistry between the odd couple. There was a slight sense of typical opening-night stiltedness but the consummate professionalism of the cast overrides the awkward tension so that it’s hard to tell whether it’s intentional or not. Also, Papps’ accent wavers a bit between Russian and working-class British, with occasional hints of a Yankee twang, but while noticeable, the strength of characterisation forgives such a minor technical shortcoming and the audience’s consistent warm laughter indicates we are more than happy to suspend disbelief in order to indulge the development of this wholly absurd relationship. 

All in all this tight little two-hander satisfies indeed.

*As well as residential seasons in the Old Vic, Outbox has a touring branch called Lunchbox Theatre, travelling around schools in the Auckland region.
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