Review: PLASTIC, Ustinov Studio, Bath

It's ironic that this first production of the Ustinov Studio's German season should be concerned with that most British of subjects: class. British theatre has a rich history of playwrights poking our sensitivities about guilt, entitlement and shame. Marius von Mayenburg's Plastic does it with wit, ingenuity...and a mud-slinging machine (no, that's not a metaphor).

Said machine belongs to the gloriously funny conceptual artist Serge Haulupa (not his real name, we're told) who has plonked himself in the house of his PA Ulrike. Her doctor husband Michael is burnt out and has little time for Serge and the pretentious art experiments that he inflicts upon the family. Their oh-so-busy lives mean they need reinforcements: enter new cleaning lady Miss Schmitt, come to clean, cook and help with their teenage son Vincent.

Try as they might, Michael and Ulrike cannot suppress their unease around the cleaning lady. Ulrike berates her husband for leaving a 20 Euro note in the bathroom in case Miss Schmitt should see it as a test of her honesty. She ties herself in knots as she tries to talk to Miss Schmitt to explain it wasn't a trap. Sadly, what comes out are phrases like "You just don't leave money about when you have staff" and "I know 20 Euros must be a lot to you". It is deliciously awkward.

Meanwhile, Serge is preparing his new conceptual art pieces in the house, which are, in his words, "better than Damien's". He pushes the family more and more until the cracks show. Wine is spilt and food is thrown. All the while, there is Miss Schmitt, on her hands and knees, clearing up the deliberate mess.

The cast are, without expectation, superb. Steve John Sheperd as Serge has the kind of verve and energy that lets you bask in his ridiculousness. Jonathan Slinger and Charlotte Randle paint this dysfunctional marriage perfectly and their conversations with Ria Zmitrowicz as Jessica Schmitt are some of the best scenes. Zmitrowicz, for her part, does an astounding job to play it straight amongst the chaos.

Von Mayenburg shows a deft touch in teasing the audience with the conceptual art piece; each time you think the play might be verging on the pretentious, it throws in a knowing joke. Matthew Dunster directs this comedy of manners with pace and purpose, and Jean Chan's apartment set is all grey stone, whitewashed walls and perpendicular lines. It's a perfect contrast to the dysfunction within.

Plastic is a play for now - it speaks to social guilt, convention and elitism, but it does so without patronising the audience or labouring the point. It'll make you laugh and squirm with delight.

Plastic at Ustinov Studio until 25 March

Photo credit: Simon Annand

To post a comment, you must register and login.