Art

Art should be awful. It consists of nothing more than three suited men cavorting around an upper-middle class lounge waxing lyrical about a piece of modern art - one of whom quite correctly points out that it's nothing but a “white piece of shit” - and worst of all, it's very, very French. So it comes as a pleasant surprise then that the Drama Barn’s latest offering, under the skillful direction of Sian Hughes and Makoto Kawaguchi, leaves the audience in fits of laughter, with a sharp script and a talented cast on top form.

When freewheeling, avant-garde wannabe Serge (Freddy Elletson) spends 200,000 francs on a white canvas – which, in keeping with his Eurotrash tastes, he insists isn't actually white - his close friend Marc (Ryan Hall), a pill-popping cynic, is by turns left amused, confused, frustrated and furious at Serge's apparently passive-aggressive attempt at independence. Meanwhile, neurotic Yvan (Chris White) , already a fumbling mess thanks to his impending wedding, is unable to form his own opinion of the painting, leading the three friends into heated, yet often hilarious arguments on the nature of art, culture, and more importantly, friendship.

It would be both impossible and unfair to single out any one member of the cast for special mention, since all three tackle their respective roles with such finesse. Elletson, by no means a stranger to comedy, delivers a remarkably reserved performance as the pretentious, name-dropping Serge, bringing to his character a limbering confidence and sharp tongue that excellently complements the monument to pomposity that is Marc: a role that Hall imbues with a steely-eyed gaze and casually sarcastic tone, occasionally savouring a few choice words with a biting change in volume, all the while retaining his childish jealousy and infectious laughter. Both actors are perfectly contrasted by White's portrayal of Yvan, a dynamo of energy and nerves, unable to sit or stand or – in an impressive, if long, monologue – stick to a single subject for more than a few seconds. White's physicality and hysteria, as well as Hall's and Elletson's excellent comic timing, certainly elicit their share of laughs from the audience. However it is in the quieter moments of the play, such as when Yvan pleads for honesty in the trio's friendship while lamenting his doormat reputation, do we see all three actors' talent for switching effortlessly from the hilarious to the poignant.

Hughes and Kawaguchi thrust the audience into the action with a trapezoid-shaped stage focused on the eponymous painting itself, lending a slight voyeuristic quality to the production and a level of intimacy that supplements the plays' themes of honesty, compassion, and integrity. The set is kept minimalist with little colour, and the costumes and lighting design (Katie Lambert) mimic the main colour of white. Sharp reds, blues, and greens break this up by dotting the shirts of the characters and the washes over their monologues, perhaps hinting at the interdependent nature of their lives and the value of their friendship.

If that sounds mushy, it shouldn't. What few problems Art suffers from – some elements of the physical comedy jar awkwardly with the wordplay; the coda monologues are almost unnecessary – pale in comparison to an all-round excellent effort by both cast and crew. Art is a funny, energetic, and touching piece of theatre that everyone would do well to catch this weekend.

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