'Us Four and Sam’ Reviewed: Hook the Audience, then Make them Laugh

Just as a scratchy turtleneck could draw your attention away from the lower order at Trent Bridge, so too was Us Four and Sam slightly, er, coloured by the scant provisions afforded to audience comfort. I arrived after the primo spots (on a rug) had been taken, leaving me to sit on bare parquetry for over an hour. Judging by their shuffling, huffing, and speed at which the audience stood up at the play’s end, it would be unfaithful not to relay this slight hindrance to the experience.  

But bruised thighs aside, there was a lot to like in Olga Alonso Blanco’s generally excellent Us Four and Sam. 111b South Street’s front room played host to a tight and tidy production, whose simple plot revolved around a ‘love square’ comprising couples Fleur and Amos, and Polly and Ted. In each couple, character A is unfaithful to character B, who — unbeknownst to character A — has themselves been unfaithful (with a member of the other couple).

The trigger to all these cahoots is the Scene 1 breakup of Amos (Walt Scott) and Fleur (Laura Kibédi Varga), which served to quickly set the cogs of the plot turning. If the breakup felt a little over-smooth, as if neither character had much emotional skin in the game, this could be excused — Alonso Blanco was no doubt grappling with constraints in what was already a long production.

What was very effective was the kiss Polly (Elena Koestel Santamaria) planted upon Amos, which served as an unforeseen ramp, launching the plot into clear air and leaving the audience gasping for breath. Mirroring this, there was real chemistry between Ted (Dylan Swain) and Fleur, who zinged their nerdy lines back and forth with the punchy bounce of a sitcom. Swain delivered a bout of gags that roused the audience to a state of geniality on which all the cast — who looked to enjoy themselves more and more — fed. I didn’t mind that Fleur and Ted’s eventual rumpy-pumpy was as predictable as sunrise — at this point the play had made its comedic intentions clear — but could the sexual tension not have been rolled out and savoured a bit more?

Assistant Director Sofia Hattiangadi had worked to design a minimalist set consisting of four chairs, a table, bed, and telephone. Within a kitchen, it served the play’s action very well and was made to feel more expansive by frequent calls from offstage, purporting to be from other parts of the flat. Saxophonist Nathaniel Chapman’s mellifluous interludes sounded marked breaks in scenes and occasionally emphasised the passing of time. The telephone was important because it was Sam (you know, Us Four and Sam): the voiceless, faceless confidant whom all characters phoned to reveal their inner machinations and set up the dramatic irony which was ladled over the play’s second half. On the flipside, the significant time spent fleshing out Sam’s (non-) character — via tales like when Sam once “almost stole a pint glass” — felt like a lot of effort that ultimately did little more than to justify the inclusion of this ‘telephone confidant’ device, effort that could have been channelled into more thematic development.

Beyond being witty, Alonso Blanco’s writing delivered standout moments (a necklace stashed in a teapot by a lover is disgorged when Fleur pours a refreshment) and kept attention throughout the play. The ridiculous dénouement — characters talk at cross-purposes before finally seeing things for what they are — was also an entertaining opportunity for Kibédi Varga and Koestel Santamaria to show their chops for depicting deranged and guilty characters, respectively. Between the lines was written in a cheese motif of all things, although the clearer theme was that of efficiency versus passion in relationships. This, as well as Polly’s decrying the dating world as a “male cosmos”, might have benefitted from a second act where it could have been tackled with more than just passing comments.

But Us Four and Sam didn’t take itself too seriously nor get mired in trying to say anything very profound. It was rather roaringly fun, and this impression will stay with me much longer than the bruises on my sit bones.

Photo by Olga Blanco