Comrades see red over white canvas

Author: Reviewed by BRYCE HALLETT
Date: 12/04/1999
Publication: Sydney Morning Herald
Section: News And Features

Theatre Royal, April 10 

Yasmina Reza's light comedy ART opens with an easygoing charm, not unlike a cartoon in the way it swiftly draws the broad, 
partly comical, viewpoints of three men gradually forced to confront the half-truths and compromises on which their 
friendship is based. 

The starting point for Reza's exploration is simple enough, even trivial on the face of it. When the "comfortably off" 
Serge buys a white painting by Antrios for 200,000 francs, it is an act of folly in the eyes of his intellectual ally 
Marc, such an affront that he sneeringly regards it as a betrayal of his friendship. 

The dramatic "think balloons" - the frozen moments of truth spoken by each character under interrogating shafts of light - 
serve to reveal the animosities and deceits festering beneath the geniality and tribal rituals of the three friends. Within 
the space of several minutes the audience is privy to the argumentative banter between Tom Conti's cynical, superior Marc 
and Geoff Morrell's "exhibition freak" and peculiarly remote Serge - the first clinging to tradition, rigid authority and 
well-developed ego, the second attaining a level of independence and imagination born of the new. 

"My friend Marc's an intelligent enough fellow . . . but he's one of those new-style intellectuals who are not only enemies 
of modernism, but seem to take some sort of incomprehensible pride in running it down . . . In recent years these nostalgia 
merchants have become quite breathtakingly arrogant." With these words Serge stakes out the battleground superficially about 
human skill and enterprise, but largely about the male ego and how delicate a minefield genuinely honest friendships are to 
navigate. 

Into the increasingly combustible mix comes the soon-to-marry Yvan (David Wenham), an acquiescent, pitiably inert character 
caught in the crossfire between the "shut off from humanity" admonisher Marc and the new man of ideas Serge, whose purchase 
of the easy-prey white canvas prompts Yvan to come to his lamentable defence. "If it makes him happy . . . As long as it's 
not doing harm to anyone else." And on it goes, the call to arms in the name of ART. 

The French play, translated by Christopher Hampton, moves beyond caricature to achieve an unforced and authentic humanness. 
The fact that the combatants have been close friends for 15 years, calls the depth of their relationships, including those 
with the women in their lives, into question. What need or custom keeps them together and how open, generous and honest is 
their companionship? Has the cultural "law-maker" Marc, whose feelings of self-worth are inextricably linked to the faith 
his friends invest in him, given rise to the isolated condition which propels Serge to find his own cunning and strength 
to embrace the new? 

The significance of ART is that it manages, very simply, to stimulate discussion about the nature of allegiance, learning 
and love. It is skilfully structured and contrived; witty, sharp and musical. In the scene when the set-upon Yvan arrives 
late for dinner, the ensuing monologue by Wenham is superbly executed, a breathlessly controlled act of sustained release 
which, in the space of several febrile minutes, reveals the tight-coiled anxiety behind the calm facade and umpire neutrality. 

The play's humour springs from its sparring matches and aesthetic arguments, although its thoughts on modernism and 
deconstruction are dated and tired - but it gains ground in the manner it craftily fathoms the conceits, flaws and 
complicities of Marc, Serge and Yvan's alliance. Thankfully it avoids sentiment and easy resolution. "Can we try to 
steer clear of pathos?" says Serge to an emotionally hurt and hysterical Yvan who craves the familiar and unchallenging. 
"I'm not like you, I don't want to be an authority figure . . . I don't want to be self-sufficient." 

In the end ART draws a cautionary tale, albeit light-heartedly. It lays bare the forces that tear away at friendship and 
democratic union, tiny actions and impulses which are irrationally blown out of proportion, sufficient for them to become 
intolerable and either duly censored or cruelly attacked. 

Framed by designer Mark Thompson's elegantly-proportioned set, ART is an entertaining work. Much of its pleasure derives 
from seeing the cast bring its conflicts into vividly arresting play. Tom Conti commands the stage with a marvellous 
presence and Geoff Morrell, with only two weeks' preparation, gives an outstanding and intelligent performance while 
Wenham displays tremendous control in his memorable portrayal of fragility.