When egos collide… Harriet Gordon-Anderson, Brian Meegan and Jeremy Waters
What an absolute delight to see this production again. David Ireland’s lacerating black comedy, written as the #MeToo movement was gathering momentum and referencing the aftermath of Brexit, takes aim at – among other things – misogyny, gender politics and the always simmering cauldron that is Northern Ireland.
Ray (Jeremy Waters), an Oscar-winning Hollywood actor whose ego would require its own first class airline seat (if not its own private plan) is in England to star in Ulster American, an Irish work written by up-and-coming playwright Ruth (Harriet Gordon-Anderson). In the opening scenes, which are painfully funny, Ray is holding forth to the play’s director Leigh (Brian Meegan) about, well, himself: his fame, his relationship with himself, his sponsor (Ray’s in AA), his journey and so on and so forth. Watching Meegan’s Leigh silently absorb or concur with this information is a joy in itself.
The pair are at Leigh’s London home awaiting the arrival of Ruth, who is late. The delay leads Ray into some very unsavoury reflections, so repellent that even sycophantic Leigh is forced to protest, albeit mildly – and then, to keep the peace (and his star happy), weighs in with his own abhorrent hypotheticals about, if you don’t mind, rape. Ruth arrives in a fluster of apology, which segues into torrent of recrimination about her mother who is to blame for her for late arrival. Mother (never mind she is hospitalised) is soon dismissed and the trio get down to some serious fawning and to the play, due to begin rehearsals the next day.
But it turns out that Ray, despite his loudly proclaimed affinity with Ireland, his Catholic antecedents and an ‘Irish’ accent that is an affront to anyone’s ears, knows nothing about Eire or Northern Ireland, let alone The Troubles. ‘What is Ulster?’ he asks. ‘Fenian?’ And when Ruth, who speaks as a Belfast native would, declares herself British not Irish, Ray is appalled. Obsequiousness curdles into distrust then dislike and Leigh turns himself inside out in his attempts to move everyone and everything forward. Of course, Ruth is Irish, he insists. Bad move.
And the show must go on; it is essential to Leigh’s career ambitions. Except Ray wants the protagonists changed to suit his politics, and Ruth – surprise, surprise – refuses to have her work tampered with, and the hitherto seemingly reasonable Leigh segues into a person as toxic as the odious Ray (Of course, Ruth will adapt her play (she’s a woman, after all; she doesn’t understand).
In its skewering of Hollywood power plays, gender bias and double standards, Ulster American is the blackest black comedy. This production features the same cast and director (Shane Anthony) as the one that garnered rave reviews at the Seymour Centre in 2021. It was brilliant then, and it is brilliant now. The three actors totally inhabit their characters. Their comic timing is absolutely spot on and the tension between them builds marvellously into a final scene that is shocking, awful – and hilarious.
Not to be missed.
Until 8 June
Tickets $43-$88
https://www.ensemble.com.au/shows/ulster-american/
