“I’m not like you, I don’t like reality TV” cries Lucy Benjamin’s down to earth, wise cracking Mel. Luckily, most of the audience seem to feel differently. Fans of the guilty pleasures of people watching are bound to find much to satisfy in The Pretender Agenda, the latest work by writer and director Christopher Manoe, who gained critical acclaim for his collection of monologues entitled ‘Solitary Confinement’.
Focusing on the topsy turvey lives of a group of media workers who meet up for a team social where too much alcohol and careless flirting leads to fraught arguments and tantrums before bedtime, the characterisation, said to be based on past friends and acquaintances of Manoe, has a definite sense of realism about it, forcing comparisons with real life friends and family members.
Despite this promising recommendation, The Pretender Agenda misses the mark on some points. Tim Mascall’s lighting design is confusingly messy, while Lee Ryan’s acting is simply not up to par. The script takes a while to build momentum, and just when it does, leading to an irresistible confrontation between boss and employee turned lover, a poorly judged interval interrupts the flow and seriously damages the attention span.
Manoe, perhaps unconsciously given that he is also a screenwriter, is taking a bold step with this play. Traditional theatrical themes are abandoned in favour of a much more colloquial, girl and boy next door expose of what might go on behind closed doors. But unlike most theatrical gambles, there is no real gain here. However, the gruesome battles between lovers, workers and friends has an absorbingly voyeuristic value that is hard to deny.
Lucy Benjamin and Sue Devaney are fantastically easy to watch as Mel and Gina respectively, and Scott Hinds is an appealingly drippy boyfriend, but the cast don’t quite come together to drive the action forward as they might. There is a notable lack of chemistry between them, a particular loss in the case of apparent lovers Gina and James.
As it is, The Pretender Agenda is good comedy fun, seething with ascerbic wit and dripping with gossipy soap opera drama, but sadly lacking any real punch behind its numerous strikes.
– Kate Jackson