Sex with Strangers

By Laura Eason

Sydney Theatre Company Wharf 1 

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them" 
                                                                     - Ernest Hemingway

The gaggle of blue-rinse-brigade members seated around me at The Wharf Theatre seems rather incongruous given the provocative title of Laura Esson’s new play. Steppenwolf’s production of Sex with Strangers received mixed reviews when it premiered in Chicago in 2009. Thankfully, despite being seated beside a biddy with an undying passion for unbearably loud lolly wrappers, the play, directed by Jocelyn Moorhouse, provides indulgent escapism from start to finish. Actors Jacqueline McKenzie and Ryan Corr are a match made in heaven. The attractive couple exudes chemistry, creating an almost tangible sexual tension that drives the play’s narrative. While this play is a lot of fun, its meaning does not resonate far beyond the confines of the theatre as it attempts to expose a conflict between our on-line and real-life worlds that is no longer as controversial as it once was.

McKenzie plays reclusive, would-be author, Olivia, whose writing retreat is interrupted by the appearance of an uninvited guest. As the play begins, her cosy cabin, a sanctuary from the raging blizzard outside, is invaded by the sweeping headlight beams of Matthew Marshall’s beautifully crafted lighting design. As Olivia ducks behind a couch to hide, the dazzling beams, shining through the shadowy forest, herald the arrival of cocky playboy Ethan (Corr) who, along with a swirl of snowflakes, brings havoc – and heat – to the stage.

Corr’s entrance marks the start of a series of vigorous displays of youthful enthusiasm and passion, which immediately capture the audience and intoxicate Olivia. Corr’s ability to possess the stage, and indeed McKenzie, becomes the basis for the inherent conflict between the two characters, as Olivia struggles to resist a powerful charisma that has already seduced the audience. Ethan epitomizes youthful virility and his irrepressible energy works wonders for Olivia’s anxious and reserved character. Separately the two characters are quite interesting, but combined they sizzle and pop in fiery fury.

Marshall’s design vision extends to the clever use of digital projection to create the transitory illusion of sparse and leafless trees, which build the implied isolation of the cabin in Act One. The innovative and witty use of significant literary quotes during scene transitions is a droll and charming device. As Olivia and Ethan bound up the stairs to the off-stage bedroom (at first tentatively and later with rising gusto), the scene transitions are accompanied by floating words that drift-digitally across the set and scatter so aptly like falling leaves. The audience nods in agreement as though ‘in the know’, collectively indulging in a kind of shared smugness as these quotes theoretically reinforce the meaning of each scene. Our self-satisfaction almost mirrors the egotism of Ethan. As the crowd chuckles audibly at the words of Robert Balano, “I don’t consider them one night stands, they’re auditions for love”, Ethan’s career as a professional Lothario is both highlighted and made light of in a single neon quote. We are momentarily left feeling vaguely unsettled by this seeming justification of Ethan’s immoral behavior. However, this feeling of unease is forgotten as quickly as the quotes scatter and dash across the stage: the audience has become as desensitized to such casualization of sex as Ethan is.

As the second act begins, time has passed and Tracy Grant Lord’s love-shack set slides seamlessly into an ultra-modern, minimalist, city, loft, where the two love birds are now ‘shacked up’ and the generation gap, evident in their embryonic relationship, is beginning to widen. McKenzie’s transformation from uptight, aging, ingénue to sexually liberated, author du jour is highlighted by Lord’s costume design as Olivia’s frumpy jumpers and peasant skirts are quite literally ‘stripped’ away by the charming Ethan and replaced by stilettoes and a sleek silhouette.

The play begins to really explore the blurred line between our invented selves – online and off - and what happens when these identities intersect and our private lives becomes public domain. Ethan’s relaxed attitude to blogging and on-line intimacy, paired with his insistent (at times pushy) faith in Olivia’s talents as an author, lead to an inevitable divide as the two realise the truth of their differences in the real world.

Regrettably, the battle between Olivia and Ethan, as he attempts to convince her that her book will be just as successful and just as much of an accomplishment online, is hardly eye opening to today’s audience. The virtual universe is already a normal part of our lives. In attempting to be current, controversial and provocative, Sex With Strangers has unfortunately arrived a little too late: even the little ol’ lolly lover beside me seems in the know, as she audibly and unabashedly volunteers “Fred!” as a pseudonym for Olivia’s cyber identity. Despite these shortcomings, Sex with Strangers still makes for an extremely entertaining night out and we can’t help but indulge in the guilty, and oh so human, pleasures of the voyeur.   

The Details: Sex with Stangers plays until November 24th 
Ticket Prices: From $35
Bookings: www.sydneytheatrecompany.com.au/what's-on