Writer: Sam McArdle
Director: Mel Fulbrook
Sam McArdle’s play The Manny has one of the most high energy starts you’ll see, diving straight into a Tinder date with an unsuspecting member of the audience that has the room in fits of laughter within seconds. It’s a confidence and drive that this 70-minute play staged at the King’s Head Theatre can’t always sustain however, with some meandering plot points that sometimes undermine this otherwise hilarious satire of male bravado set in West London.
Working for a series of rich families, the Manny doesn’t really care about his job but the rich mums love him, hiring him on a series of short-paid gigs in the hope of enjoying more than his childminding skills. But The Manny doesn’t mind; he loves the freedom to go on as many dating apps as possible, that’s until he starts looking after frighteningly grown-up Michael and meets a girl who doesn’t instantly fall for him.
McArdle’s monologue, which he also performs, is the story of the unnamed protagonist’s interaction with two other lives that start to shape his own. The world of the male nanny is very well created, with plenty of barbed comments about the families he works for, the preening mums at the school gates who try to flirt with him and the rules they set for their children which he rarely follows when he’s left alone with them. There are plenty of wry comments about the lifestyles of wealthy West Londoners and McArdle’s writing is often piercingly astute, especially when backhanded compliments and criticisms are delivered as smooth throw-aways.
The relationship with young Michael proves to be the real heart of The Manny, a precocious primary schooler obsessed with Second World War movies and games and who knows how to manipulate his glorified childminder. McArdle writes this character as a dry James Mason in child form, delivered in a monotone that proves very funny. But this segment has increasing emotional heft too with a plotline about a need for a father-figure and Michael getting lost in the park which are inserted into the drama, giving the audience a chance to see just how strong the Manny’s feelings for this child are as the hours tick by.
Less successful is the long development of a love interest who exists just to break the Manny’s heart and give him a taste of his own medicine. Molly feels like a device, a character with little in the way of personality, designed to show the audience how vulnerable the Manny is underneath, that despite his bravado and success with women, actually he’s terribly lonely and friendless. Except, the interaction between these characters never feels real, moving the play away from comedy to a more generic, and ultimately less satisfactory, rom-com. McArdle tries to wrestle the energy back up but the plot meanders and long periods without a laugh make it harder to regain that early momentum.
McArdle is a charismatic and talented performer, captivating the audience with the charm his character likes to unleash that make the Manny an entertaining creation, at least to spend 70-minutes with. But more could be made of the environment in which he exists and the strange family scenarios he encounters to sustain the comedy. These are places where all the loneliness and emptiness that McArdle wants to explore could be used to open out the Manny’s character arc.
The Manny has a great central character with plenty more to say about his life and work so perhaps the King’s Head might hire him to babysit us all again someday.
Runs until 14 January 2023
