By interval, it was raining steadily. Eery. A Steady Rain, currently playing at Tap Gallery Theatre (which, at this time of year especially, is akin to an airless hell), is presented by Cathode Ray Tube in its Australian premiere. Firstly, a few words about CRT. Formed just a few years ago, its protagonists (Alistair Powning, Jessica Donoghue and Michael Booth) share a distinctive vision. The first premise and promise of the company is they produce plays they want to act in. The second is that they include original work: they've already presented three in as many years. Between these two they would seem to have an ethos. The third and most interesting amounts to something more akin to an underlying, or overarching, philosophy. To paraphrase, 'Cathode's belief is theatre is at its most powerful when every moment seems like an accident'; what Stanislavsky called 'the illusion of the first time'. Again, to quote the perpetrators, 'we're committed to telling contemporary stories focussing on the spontaneity of the moment and without behavioural affectation'. Mm.
Well, it may be overstated, as one would think acting must, by definition, require a lesser or greater degree of affectation, but let's not go there. The point is, CRT's heads and hearts are in the right place and this ideology has a positive effect, or has on this play, inasmuch as performances reflect a kind of studied naturalism, if you will, and are never over the top. By studied naturalism, I mean the actors (Michael Booth and Sam O'Sullivan) have carefully constructed their characters, but then have allowed them to be themselves. Yes, I know. a little hard to grasp: seeing is both believing and understanding. Of course, the director, Owen Trevor, might've had a bit to do with this.
Booth plays Denny; O'Sullivan, Joey. They're almost blood brothers. Not only do they share a profession, as NYPD blues, but a history. They grew up together. Denny has always been the bigger, pushier brother, having given Joey many hidings. Yet the two have remained firm friends. Denny's on the take, in an old school, NSW p'lice kinda way. He shakes down prostitutes and others for cash, offering protection and pimp-free enterprise in return. It's the American dream in action. Joey doesn't approve but keeps stumm. After all, Denny's helped him kick booze, which was set to do him in. As well, he invites him into his home regularly, to share 'the good life': his kids, Noel and Stewie; his wife, Connie; his wife's lasagne. It beats the hell out of his one-room bachelor hovel. Denny even tries to set him up with Rhonda, a prostitute. Joey's not keen, but Denny tries to encourage him not to judge, as everyone has a past. Professionally, they're lax; bending the rules, skiving off. They're skating on thin ice with (Captain) Dickerson, who they think more than lives up to the first syllable of his name.
All of this and much more is explicated with great skill and panache. Huff writes in compellingly picturesque detail, meticulously and atmospherically piecing together a jigsaw of characters, relationships and events. And his finished, noir tapestry is, on the whole, an exceedingly believable and sympathetic one. I'm afraid I've inherited my grandfather's view of coppers as a necessary evil, but Huff's puff on beat police made me feel for these flawed men, enduring the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune on the mean streets of New York, or another large (American) city. He very successfully compresses a dense, complex and convoluted saga into an hour and forty-five minutes, which only began to seem a little too long in the dying minutes, when I 'd the sense the playwright was wrestling with how to resolve the tale he'd wrought. Regrettably, it incorporates a cliche, but the artful journey is worth this expense. The art is in the fact that the work relies on bugger-all props, few lighting changes, minimal sound (if a little Hollywooden and intrusive at times), which passes the baton to writing and performing. Both departments deliver.
Booth and O'Sullivan both seemed a little shaky in the opening minutes, but soon settled in to their accents and roles. It was plain sailing from then on, with each seeming to bed down their character better and better as the story rollicked along. And it is a story. A straight narrative whose effect is akin to losing yourself in a good book, or being spellbound by an unusually well-written television drama, or feature film. Call me cynical, but I don't imagine these latter kinships and possibilities were a million miles from Huff's mind when he wrote. That's as may be. Regardless, what we have here is an exceptionally well-written, acted, produced and directed play. In essence, it's a good cop show. If you like Hill Street or NYPD, it's a surfire bet you'll get a kick out of A Steady Rain. It's easy to, well, cop.
Cathode Ray Tube presents
A STEADY RAIN
by Keith Huff
Director Owen Trevor
Venue: The TAP Gallery – Upstairs Theatre | 278 Palmer Street, Darlinghurst
Dates: 23 November – 8 December 2012
Times: 8pm, Tuesday to Saturday
Tickets: $22 Tues/Wed, $30 Thurs/Fri/Sat
Bookings: www.trybooking.com
