Writer: Sarah Richardson
For the second part of Park Theatre’s repertory bill Make Mine a Double, Sarah Richardson sets her play Sun Bear in the most mundane of environments, a generic administration office filled with the relatable frustrations of colleagues, enforced fun and that awkward place where the professional and personal mix uneasily. There is great humour to be drawn from protagonist Katy’s seemingly inexhaustible rage about the daily grind, but Sun Bear evolves from snarky workplace comedy to something far more thoughtful about unprocessed trauma and the thin veneer of public selves.
When office worker Katy is invited on a double date with Penny’s online match, she is less than kind to her colleague leading to an emotional outburst, releasing rage and bile that has been suppressing for some time. As the office takes a step back, Katy’s own trauma starts to resurface, and a recent breakup becomes a battleground as her day goes from bad to worse.
Richardson’s 60-minute drama is a vividly written character study that develops a good momentum as Katy’s behaviour becomes increasingly unreasonable and equally sympathetic. Sun Bear turns an everyday, relatable setting and scenario into something that finds an underlying drama and eventually surprising truthfulness about the nature of human relationships and the barriers that colleagues artificially place between themselves. Like companion piece, The Light House, there are mental health themes, but Sun Bear has lots to say about the expectations of repression and standardisation of self that accompany the cultural expectations of many workplaces.
It hits you first with the satirical humour, an office seen from a single point of view where the surface politeness contrasts with far bleaker and amusingly less diplomatic encounters with staff members including withering put-downs about names ending in ‘y’ and over-enthusiastic lunch clubs. If you can’t think who the saddest person in your office is, Katy snips, then you’re them. Richardson’s creation of character is really strong, making her narrator’s consuming bitterness and resentment very real but grounded in the petty powerplays and office dramas that are accompanied by equally entertaining caricatures of the personalities that feed Katy’s growing rage.
As Sun Bear unfolds the piece successfully moves to a more serious focus as the layers of Katy’s character and her recent experiences start to reshape the audience’s perspective. A few offhand mentions of her friendlessness suddenly align with a self-deprecating paranoia focused on the negative thoughts others might have about her, while the break-up evolves into a far more serious and often affecting story of coercive control, abuse and the impossibility of freeing herself from patterns of thinking that bubble over at work.
The final monologue is too long and overly repetitive, picking up and reiterating threads from across the show which are already clear enough to the viewer. It’s not a perfect ending given the well-managed build up and there may be stronger alternatives in the confrontation with others that can serve the humour and Katy’s distress a little better, but Richardson’s performance is wide-ranging and insightful about the problems of channelling emotions in all the wrong places and missing the helping hands being offered from unexpected sources.
Runs until 13 April 2024
