The foyer of Sydney’s Roslyn Packer Theatre is adorned with grand banners, setting the stage for “Art,” Yasmina Reza’s celebrated 1994 play. With a translation by Christopher Hampton, this production is gracing Sydney before embarking on a national tour to Brisbane, Melbourne, and Adelaide, a co-production with the State Theatre Company South Australia. One banner boldly declares, “It’s about friendship.” Another insists, “It’s about a painting!” And then, the classic quip, “It’s about 90 minutes.”
This witty preamble welcomes audiences to a production boasting a formidable cast of beloved Australian actors, all familiar faces from the silver screen and television. Richard Roxburgh, known for his roles in “Rake” and “Elvis,” Damon Herriman, who starred in “Better Man” and “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood,” and Toby Schmitz, recognised from “Boy Swallows Universe” and “Black Sails,” form a potent trio. The sheer star power of these performers is a significant draw, likely attracting both seasoned theatregoers and those who might only visit the theatre occasionally. It’s a shrewd strategy to make patrons feel immediately at ease. On opening night, each actor was met with rapturous applause upon their entrance; the audience was clearly eager to see their favourite celebrities in action.
However, this tendency to gloss over the deeper meaning, this nonchalant, “too-cool-for-school” attitude that prioritises jokes above all else, permeates the entire production. While undeniably a comedy, and indeed a funny one, the play’s impact could be significantly amplified if there was a greater willingness to engage with the ideas it presents, rather than relentlessly chasing the next punchline. Must our engagement with theatre always be this anti-intellectual, exemplified by the dismissive “it’s about 90 minutes” sentiment? Do we need to harbour such an inherent disdain for the art form from the moment we step inside the venue? Is it possible to welcome new audiences without diminishing the experience they are about to have?
This isn’t entirely the fault of the production itself. Directed by Lee Lewis with a keen eye for crowd-pleasing entertainment, the play is, in essence, about a painting – though not entirely. Serge, played by Herriman, has splurged €160,000 on a large canvas that, at first glance, appears to be entirely white. The argument is that upon closer inspection, subtle lines and dimensions reveal themselves. Marc, portrayed by Roxburgh, is utterly incensed by this purchase. A lover of landscapes, Marc views Serge’s acquisition as a further step towards artistic and social elitism, a divergence from their shared way of life. Serge’s fascination with this seemingly blank canvas is taken personally by Marc, less an aesthetic disagreement and more a fundamental breakdown of their shared reality.
In an attempt to rally support, Marc enlists their mutual friend, Yvan (Schmitz). Marc shares his disdain for Serge’s decision with Yvan, often through direct asides to the audience. Yvan, however, is presented as “tolerant” of Serge’s choice, not one to criticise a friend’s extravagant purchase. Naturally, Marc is determined to sway Yvan to his point of view.
The simmering tensions eventually erupt during an evening at Serge’s apartment, transforming into a dramatic confrontation. The discord between Marc and Serge, it becomes clear, is not genuinely about the painting itself – men will, it seems, literally fight over a controversial painting instead of seeking therapy – but rather about long-held resentments and insecurities within their friendship that are finally brought to the surface.
“Art” flirts with profundity, only to shy away, as if fearing that a moment of genuine emotional resonance might prove tedious. The play could linger on moments of revelation or connection, allowing the audience to absorb and contemplate them. But that’s not the primary objective here! It’s about a painting! It’s about friendship! It’s about 90 minutes! The message seems to be: stop thinking so hard! Come in, have a laugh, and then leave!
It’s certainly not a challenging or difficult production to watch. Roxburgh, Herriman, and Schmitz are clearly enjoying each other’s company on stage, and this camaraderie is palpable. There’s a genuine sense of playfulness at work. Roxburgh adopts a fascinatingly exaggerated, puffed-up physicality, while Herriman maintains an absurdly composed demeanour. Schmitz leans into a good-natured, almost oblivious persona. The three actors exchange insults with a delightful ease. Schmitz delivers a particularly memorable monologue detailing the dramatic build-up to his impending wedding, offering a much-needed window into his character’s inner world.
The play is undoubtedly funny and executed with excellent comedic timing. So, what is there to complain about? The opening night audience was certainly in fits of laughter, and the standing ovation at the curtain call was immediate and enthusiastic. But does that effervescent charisma linger once the house lights come up and patrons begin to file out? For this reviewer, the prevailing feeling was one of hollowness. This is perhaps not the ideal moment for cynical productions that focus on cynical men. Audiences might be forgiven for wishing for something more substantial.
“Art” is currently showing at the Roslyn Packer Theatre until 8 March. It will then tour to Brisbane’s QPAC from 11-22 March, Melbourne’s Comedy Theatre from 22 April – 3 May, and Adelaide’s Her Majesty’s Theatre from 20-24 May.
