Theatre
Talk Thirty to Me
MITP

There have always been age-related milestones associated with the various developmental phases of humans. From the traditionally Maltese quċċija at one, to the age of three when you start kindergarten, 11 for secondary school, 13 for becoming a teen, sweet 16, getting your driving licence and the right to vote at 18, and 21, from then on, not much fuss is made of our aging selves – we’re sort of suspended in a seemingly perpetual lacuna of extended fun called “the Twenties” where we’re old enough to act as responsible adults and young enough to get away with being silly and spontaneous. That is, until the end of the decade.

With my big Three-O looming ever closer (I turn 29 next July), I was looking forward to seeing what Mellow Drama would make of the toxic can of worms which most people feel puts them firmly in the “adult world”. So it was with a justified amount of curiosity that I made my way to MITP on December 12 to see what director Wesley Ellul, assisted by James Calvert had in mind when they chose to put up Ooghna Duncan’s Talk Thirty To Me, following its recent successful run at the Toronto Fringe.

Written in the same vein as one of Mellow Drama’s previous productions, My First Time, Talk Thirty To Me takes the format of four actors each playing a dual role, and incorporated screen projections with facts and trivia related to the psycho, socio, sexual behaviour of average 30-year-olds, or at least people in their late 20s and how they view their fast-approaching third decade. Audience participation in the form of questionnaires handed out before the start of the show was encouraged, and a selection of answers was read at intervals during the show, when the actors shed their on-stage persona and threw back these pearls of 30-year-old wisdom at the chuckling viewers. As the stories of the eight characters unfolded, a clearer picture emerged of their motivation and attitude on the brink of their 30th year. They alternated short personal addresses towards the audience while being vaguely aware of each other’s existence. In such intimate productions where not much movement is involved, the right kind of casting is crucial because it all depends on tone, diction and accent; and Mr Ellul managed to nail it. Including himself in the dynamic group didn’t detract from directorial input, I believe it actually helped. As Darren, he plays a struggling actor whose aim to be a movie star still hasn’t materialised and looks pretty distant, his is a rather wry look on life, which contrasts with that of his other very likable character Jake – a stoned, perpetual PhD student who doesn’t want to grow up, loves kids as long as he can hand them back to their parents at the end of the day, and enjoys planning wacky things to do while he’s tripping – finally resulting in the prospects of a trip to Indonesia as a form of escaping his predicament as a 30-year-old.

The other male lead was played by Jan Zammit – an up-and-coming young actor, surprisingly in his early 20s, who dealt with the realities of his two characters very well. His were two contrasting characters which proved his versatility in attitude and accent and mark the beginning of a very promising career – from the British Ben, whom I identified with rather too much, who has a drained bank account and is facing the prospect of singledom after a long relationship; to the hilariously histrionic gay New Yorker, Tim who agonises about life in an effete but endearing way and bagged plenty of laughs.

Julia Calvert’s excellent comic timing and strength of characterisation were showcased in her interpretation of the Scottish Kendra – who left her husband for a woman and is always up for anything; while her other character, Vanessa, is career driven, organised and seems to have forgotten to date in her 20s which leaves her with a cynical view of the prospects of dating in her 30s, and whose wry comments on life in general rung very true. The particular poignancy of Vanessa, Ben and Tim’s realities all of whom have a deep desire to settle down after seeing their peers do so, is given a different take by Alexandra Camilleri Warne’s mature interpretation of Mira, who settled down too quickly in her mid-20s and is already a married mother and sometimes feels that the best part of her youth was denied her due to her circumstances – fleeing the war in Yugoslavia to live with her husband in Malta and counting the number of times she has left to see her aging parents, whom she visits every other year left the audience with a taste of a darker side of turning 30 – the mortality of those we love as well as our own. The only death Dr Warne’s other character, Sam is afraid of, is that of her partying lifestyle – which she doesn’t think should change just because she’s growing older.

What was great about Talk Thirty To Me was the fact that it was such an honest, real take on what goes on in the minds of 29- to 30-year-olds everywhere. I honestly could not stop laughing and nodding in agreement and trust that an instalment of Talk Forty To Me will be produced by Mellow Drama in a decade’s time. In the meantime, encore performances of this comedic gem ought to be clamoured for, while I’ll leave you with a great little insight gleaned from the script: “Given that the ratio of women to men is greater, as demand increases, supply decreases when it comes to the availability of single men in their 30s and as the dating pool gets smaller, men begin to look much more attractive to all the single ladies out there. Ergo, we become hot property.” One can only live in hope – I say bring it on!