Michelle Ny, Rowan Witt and Annabel Harte. Photo: Clare Hawley
In an era when one can be famous for just about anything, who would pass up the chance of cashing in on someone else’s tragedy if it meant a career-defining, multi-million-dollar book deal? Just for being at the right place at the right time. Or possibly the wrong time?
Gloria, a deliciously dark comedy that made it to the 2016 Pulitzer Prize for Drama finals, is set in a Manhattan magazine office (a milieu familiar to Jacobs-Jenkins who spent three years at the New Yorker, although we are not to draw any comparisons apparently).
High on ambition, and short on opportunities (this is the print industry, why are they even here?), there is more snide office banter in this soul-less place than there is work as twentysomething EAs indulge in some five-star backstabbing. They mostly hate each other, although they hate their baby-boomer bosses even more. The characters are well-drawn, and brilliantly enacted by this tight six-strong cast, directed with tension and precision by Alexander Berlage. It makes for great squirmy comedy in the first act.
The eponymous Gloria (Georgina Symes) is a less than sparkling veteran copy editor, whose work may well be the best thing in her life. Every office environment has one, or two. More vocal are the younger editorial assistants. Dean (Rowan Witt) and Kendra (Michelle Ny) are particularly good at coruscating putdowns. Almost (but not quite) beneath their attention is Lorin (Reza Momenzada), the fact-checker (a dying breed in journalism); intelligent Ani (Annabel Harte), who is far too smart to be working at this place, and Miles (Justin Amankwah), the intern who makes good use of his noise-cancelling headphones. The characters are funny, nasty, sad and real – and the dialogue is not only totally believable but beautifully delivered by the cast, most of whom play multiple roles. The first act holds up a mirror to this sharp and shallow world. And just when you wonder where the play is going, it spins itself around and jolts you to somewhere else entirely.
It’s hard to say more, without giving too much away. But one person’s tragedy is another’s media circus, right?
The second act, set in a Starbucks, shows us just how far some of this crew will go to propel themselves to literary stardom, and how different is everyone’s reaction to trauma and grief. Amankwah’s return as a Starbucks employee who would rather chat than serve is especially fun, as the mood turns darker. The third act takes place in the LA offices of a film/TV company, where stories can be told – or is that exploited? Momenzada returns as Lorin, a sombre contrast to nearly everyone else in this story, as Symes re-emerges as a brittle and ambitious Nan, who has got what it takes to do whatever it takes, and Harte has a great turn as a clueless assistant.
Jeremy Allen gives us sets that are as bright and hard as the culture that Jacob-Jenkins wants us to think about. Our culture. Gloria shows us a joyless world, but does so in an entertaining and thought-provoking way.
Until 22 June.
