Theatre Review: “Never Have I Ever” serves up a sizzling feast of politics, identity, and ego
What’s a little power between friends? This is the question posed by Black Swan Theatre Company’s latest production, Never Have I Ever, the sizzling debut script by comedian, playwright and podcaster Deborah Francis-White (The Guilty Feminist podcast). Audiences of this raucous satirical comedy can treat themselves to a smorgasbord of politics, identity and ego, at a dinner party gone awry.
Set under the glowing festoon lights of a soon-to-be liquidated boutique restaurant, partners-in-business (and in life) Jacq and Kass prepare their last supper with a side of bad news, to be served up to their old friend and investor Tobin, alongside his effervescent and successful wife Adaego. The quartet are old friends, bonded by their shared and (what we will soon discover) seminal experiences during their time in university. In an attempt to lighten the mood and harp back to simpler times, Kass suggests a drinking game known to provoke salacious uni students: Never Have I Ever. As comparisons and alcohol fly, the cracks beneath the surface begin to show as the evening descends into heated discussions on class, wealth and privilege, and a terrible offer that threatens to shatter their increasingly fragile bonds for good.
Bryan Woltjen’s charismatic set mirrors the internal world of these unravelling relationships. Charming and warm on the surface, the restaurant featured stations of a deconstructed kitchen, allowing diners to peek behind the curtain, equipped with actual flames that match the mood of the explosive mood of the night. A glass window to the outside world waits patiently in the background, while a cellar full of secrets is accessed by a literal trapdoor in the stage, and the wine flows.
Director Kate Champion cleverly reinterprets the Francis-White’s restaurant setting in a way that seems familiar to Perth audiences, with a fancy, high-concept approach to dining that would have felt right at home on the Claremont strip. Lighting, pyrotechnics, and early 2000s pop music are playfully woven together to immerse us in a theatrical montage of a drunken night out, where the tea is spilt and old resentments are finally laid bare.
Never Have I Ever plates up its big ideas on the table, front and centre: What does wealth and opportunity mean to you when you’ve struggled with poverty your whole life? How many compromises must you make as an immigrant to accommodate the dominant culture before you lose a sense of who you are? How do you navigate your way to success in a society that constantly underestimates you because of the colour of your skin?
Characters as dialogic chess pieces, each functioning as an embodiment of the different facets of how the engine of society and identity politics can shape how we see ourselves, and how we experience the world. As a result, much of the delight and spark of the play comes from the friction that arises when these perspectives rub up and clash against one another. The dinner party is a great setting for this kind of tension. It holds space for those exchanges, political, personal, and ideological. And it’s delivered by a crackling ensemble that capably anchors the social commentary the play seeks to wrestle with.
Will O’Mahony delivers a nuanced performance as Tobin, the wealthy, white, “ethical” investor of the group, whose privilege his friends never let him forget. Tobin, understandably, represents a figure who is a kind of lightning rod for social ire of our time. But O'Mahony imbues this prickly personality with both posturing and pathos, giving Tobin a layer of vulnerability that lingers, even as he slips into the role of antagonist as the night unfolds. The rest of the cast also bring something distinctive to their roles, making them feel very well-defined as avatars for the play’s themes. Emily Rose Brennan ignites the room as Jacq, her take-no-prisoners approach making her the perfect foil to Tobin’s slippery ego. Retizo Mambo skillfully walks the tightrope between command and contemplation as Adaego, while Deep Sroa captures a quietly nervous energy in his performance as Kas, one that builds steadily and culminates in one of the most affecting monologues in the play’s climax.
This is where Never Have I Ever shines most: in its dialogue. Both in the pointed jabs or TED-talk-level pontifications delivered by its cast of warring personalities, as well as the broader conversation it poses for the audience. However, the script’s strong focus on presenting its ideas means other elements occasionally fall by the wayside. While the characters are peppered with enough traits and idiosyncrasies to feel well-realised as avatars for the play’s various themes, key emotional moments, like betrayals between friends, or the complexities of an unconventional relationship, don’t always get the space they need to land. And while the play serves its discourse with comedic flair, there are times when leaning more into the personal, rather than the political, might have helped us feel more invested in the characters’ struggles, and make the impossible choice in the final act hit harder. But that may not be the flavour this play was going for.
When commenting on her script in a 2023 Guardian article, Francis-White spoke about leveraging comedy and exciting plot twists to lure audiences into letting our “social censors” down and laugh. And in that, she succeeds. Never Have I Ever finds its strength in the punch of its ideas, executed with captivating performances, funny dialogue, and an engaging set. With audiences primed to debrief over dessert, opinions coloured by their own context, this is a production with a strong purpose, served piping hot.
Never Have I Ever is showing at the Heath Ledger Theatre from Saturday 14 June – Sunday 6 July. Get your tickets here!
