Tape

Stephen Belber‘s triangular buddy drama Tape bizarrely unspools its central plot device in its very title. But that’s not the only throwaway gesture in a play that recalls the work of any number of other American writers and the self-conscious echoing of situations and dialogue that fails to feel either organic or original.

The result feels as if Kenneth Lonergan had fast-forwarded ten years on from This is Our Youth and reunited its three protagonists – while also throwing in a bit of David Mamet‘s Oleanna for a spot of up-to-the-minute sexual politics. But it’s not as surprising or incendiary as either.

Vince, a dope dealer who improbably doubles as a volunteer firefighter, still more improbably finds himself in a grimy motel room in Lansing, Michigan. He’s in town to attend the Film Festival premiere of the latest movie to be directed by his best buddy from his schooldays, Jon. Since the local Assistant District Attorney happens to be a woman who was the high school sweetheart of Vince and had once made out with Jon, the stage is set for old friendships to be re-visited – and worse recriminations to follow between them – as they are all reunited.

Imported to London in the original production from the off-Broadway company Naked Angels, it is at least compellingly acted throughout, even as the sense of déjà vu escalates. As Vince, Dominic Fumusa – previously seen in London in the original production of Take Me Out at the Donmar Warehouse – only shows his bare legs (not the full monty this time), but they are nevertheless an appealing distraction from the unlikely strangle-hold of control he tries to exert over his friends.

As Josh Stamberg‘s Jon and Alison West‘s Amy warily circle each other once again, Geoffrey Nauffts‘ production tries to ratchet up the tensions of what may or may not have once happened between them, but Belber’s play fails to convince or compel.

– Mark Shenton