Would you go to dinner with an ex? The one you were engaged to but haven’t spoken to in years? This is the premise of Douglas Lyons’s Table 17: a three-person play with two perspectives on one couple’s relationship.
We meet Dallas and Jada two years after the end of their engagement, having been blocked and unblocked on Instagram, Snapchat, email and WhatsApp; truly symbolic of a modern-day relationship. Dallas calls Jada out of the blue, and after much guidance from her therapist, Jada agrees to meet Dallas for dinner. Or a date. Or is it just a reunion? Meeting at Bianca’s under the watchful eye of flamboyant server River, the former couple walk us through how they first met, their engagement, and what caused the eventual breakdown of their five-year relationship.
It begins as a rather ambiguous affair, drawing out the reason for their breakup over the course of one night with the help of Michael Rishawn as supporting character River and Eric. Although the focus is on the relationship between Jada and Dallas, Rishawn commands attention in the various iterations of River, a man who uses sassy humour to mask his vulnerability: his desire to be loved. He is a brilliant character who steals the scenes with his off-the-cuff humour and memorable one-liners. His presence alone becomes synonymous with humour; merely walking onto the stage has the audience in laughter in anticipation of what he might offer next. Rishawn is not overly performative, instead delivering a self-assured performance that quietly dominates the production.
Marisha Wallace and Jamael Westman play Jada and Dallas, and what fitting roles for these two incredibly talented performers. Wallace shines as Jada, an instantly likeable young woman who confesses her vulnerability surrounding her meeting with Dallas to the audience from the get-go: she would take Dallas back but only if he makes it clear he wants her back first. But she would take him back. Westman is brilliant as the more closed off, emotionally ambiguous Dallas, and these two have an undeniable chemistry that adds a tangible quality to their fictional past.
Amy Jane Cook brings Lyons’ production to life with an ingenious singular set: a booth on a dance floor which seamlessly operates as Table 17 in Bianca’s, Dallas and Jada’s home, a refreshment trolley on an aeroplane, and Dallas’ various music clubs he attends for work. Matt Haskins’ lighting and George Dennis’s sound design further elevate the production, working in tandem with the set to guide the transitions between the scenes. These elements create a brilliant landscape for the nuances of Jada and Dallas’ relationship to gradually emerge.
Right from the start, the audience is encouraged to talk back to the actors ‘like a panto’; a choice that could easily have felt at odds with the play, but works because both the audience and cast back it wholeheartedly. Small moments of interaction with the audience, a quick glance or an offhand comment, have a distinctly Fleabag-esque quality, adding playful layers to the flow of the story.
However, the production does feel slightly too ‘panto’ at times, which distracts from the more vulnerable and emotional scenes. It almost belittles these moments to nothing. A few audience interactions here and there are largely inoffensive, but when some particularly enthusiastic audience members continue the laughs long after the humour lands, it can skew the sentiment. Not every scene warrants a barrage of laughs, and this meant that I missed some of the lines as the laughter spilled into the scenes and drowned out the dialogue.
Nonetheless, this is a brilliant production that boasts an incredible cast and electric performances under the guidance of Lyons’ mind and Zhailon Levingston’s direction. If you’re looking for a comedy of sorts, don’t miss Table 17 at The Kiln.
Listings and ticket information can be found here
