High summer and it’s blockbuster time. The Donmar’s latest show is by the acclaimed Nick Payne, whose play about string theory, Constellations, wowed the West End last year. Constellations niftily incorporated its subject matter into its formal structure. What does that mean? It means the storylines multiplied like an exploding atom until an infinite number of possible endings came crashing through the space-time continuum and collided with the viewer’s patience, bundling it down a black hole. It was very clever and very boring but theatre-goers were so chuffed with themselves for understanding the physics that they kept quiet about the ‘boring’ bit.
Payne returns with a sitcom. Two dim-witted solicitors are embroiled in a ‘crash-for-cash’ scam where bungling crooks organise street prangs and claim money for injuries they haven’t sustained. It’s like Del-Boy and Rodney with the positions reversed. Andrew, the younger solicitor, is ambitious, gobby and corrupt. His older partner is homely, honest and meek. Andrew joins the conspiracy but when the case is challenged in court the shambolic crooks get ripped to shreds by a super-brainy female lawyer, played by Monica Dolan.
The show is fun but insubstantial. Here’s a sample quip. ‘I’m sweating like a dyslexic on Countdown.’ And who said it? Could be any of them. Crafted gags like that don’t emerge from character but from a writer’s idle moments in bed. Payne has probably been waiting years to slip it into a play. Legally, the script is nonsense. A civil tribunal, heard before a judge, is played out as if it were a jury trial at the Old Bailey. And the lawyers mockingly repeat what the witnesses say. Real advocates are taught never to use that histrionic ploy because it makes their cross-examinations sound like bad TV.
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