Writer: James Dearden
Director: Loveday Ingram
You’d think Dan Gallagher has it all. He’s a high-flying lawyer with a beautiful wife, Beth. Yet at the 
beginning of our story, he is centre stage, bedraggled and alone. He starts to recount his downfall over the previous 12 weeks continuing to break the fourth wall at intervals to give us a glimpse of his pain as the story develops
One weekend, he has to work while Beth is away. Fatefully, he accepts the offer of a drink with his friend Jimmy at the new bar in town. In that bar is Alex Forrest. Newly-divorced Jimmy tries clumsily, without success, to pick her up before he has to leave and mutual eye-rolling sees Dan and Alex strike up a conversation. It quickly develops into light flirting and ultimately into a one-night-stand – no strings, as Dan imagines. Except that Alex becomes obsessed, unwilling, or unable, to take hints as Dan tries to sever links. As Alex’s behaviour becomes ever more erratic, we see an increasingly desperate Dan trying to save his marriage.
As one enters the auditorium, one is struck by the severe angular set from Morgan Large. It’s used to good effect with projections setting the various scenes. One is often aware of ghostly shapes behind it, and it serves as a constant reminder of how one can be in the city that never sleeps yet be utterly alone. Sliding panels open and close to form entrances and to allow furniture to slide in and out to transport us to different locations. It’s supplemented well by the soundscape of Carolyn Downing and composer Paul Englishby – for example, we hear and experience the ratcheting up of sexual tension between Dan and Alex through a driving, pulse-like beat. Except that there isn’t that much sexual tension. What the set can’t disguise is that the performances are rather flat. We remain spectators, unmoved.
That’s not to say that the actors don’t try hard to drive the play along; Oliver Farnworth’s Dan remains the slightly lost, wide-eyed innocent victim of fate. His keenness to lay the blame anywhere but at his own door shines through – it’s fate that he went to that bar on the night and met Alex. Just fate. Kym Marsh is sultry as Alex. She positively oozes across the stage as she seduces Dan but her increasingly desperate attempts to take him for herself become more and more melodramatic and difficult to fathom. Some more light on her motivations would be welcome.
The remainder of the cast is effective: Susie Amy is entirely believable as the wronged wife, Beth, supported by Anita Booth as her mother. John Macauley brings us Jimmy though he has little opportunity to develop his character which seems mainly to be to act as sounding board as Dan falls more deeply into self-pity.
Fans of the 1987 film will see much they recognise – most of the iconic scenes find their way in – but It’s not clear whether it’s the script or direction that makes it feel flat. Maybe it’s that a story that resonated then doesn’t really resonate now. But the central tension, the gasps at the plot twists, empathy for the characters – they are lacking; we aren’t on the edge of our seats. And that’s a shame.
Runs Until 5 March 2022 and touring
