Earworm is a 75-minute play exploring a doomed gay relationship. It is ambitious in its exploration, but is too eager to explain itself at times.
The show is about Guy (Avihud Tidhar) whose boyfriend John (Brodie Bass) writes a paper on how gay men must compromise to find balance, comparing relationships to a see-saw. It's entertaining in its exploration because of the well-written and eloquent characters. Sound and music are used well to drive the narrative forward too.
However, Earworm doesn't always trust its audience. The repeated fourth-wall explanations labour a metaphor that is already perfectly clear through the action and music choices.
The main characters are unlikeable, but they are not caricatures; they are grounded in realism. Guy thinks of himself as an individual, despite being almost entirely constructed from cliché: he's narcissistic, with a daddy/son relationship complex, an adoration of Robyn, attention-seeking, and chasing highs at his own expense. He's rude to multiple characters and needs to go through a learning experience. The self-awareness that he won't be liked as a character is well-positioned from the outset, and gives him room to grow into a better character by the end.
Using musical taste to define personalities and highlight incompatibilities proves effective, such as during the fraught dinner party, Guy desires to dance to Charli XCX and John wants a civil affair with Taylor Swift. When John allows Zayn to cue a song, it's an absolute betrayal of Guy's playlist; this is where the theming for Earworm shines through.
The chaotic relationship ends after a terrible dinner party with John's mentor Tyler (Waylon Jacobs) and his partner Zayn (Reece Lewis). The whole scene is well-orchestrated with the pace of delivery. Waylon Jacobs is excellent in his role and his delivery of Tyler is eloquent, charismatic, and sexually available.
The consideration of the absence of music is also clever, such as when Guy drinks the bottle of white wine to forget. Conversely, when On My Own from Les Misérables plays during intercourse, it's brilliant in its hilarity.
Tidhar delivers a fantastic post-break-up monologue with impressive precision, rattling through an almost endless list of songs with remarkable breath control and flow. All the casting and acting is well done throughout the show.
The stripped-back staging places the focus firmly on the characters and their conversations, and is perhaps better for its simplicity.
The see-saw metaphor develops with our couple presented as chaos and order. Guy is painted as disorganised, and John is frustrated by this. The way they are written as polar opposites makes it hard to believe that there is anything that binds their relationship together. How is it possible for Guy to be upset over a man who rejects his vision of having a baby, struggles to give him the physical intimacy he wants, and belittles him so often?
What this show needs is longer to explore the relationships, to embed the extended characters into the narrative better. We especially need to see the good part of Guy and John's relationship. It is also a little far-fetched that Zayn returns to visit Guy when the first and last time they've met he's been completely insulted by him, and yet he gives him the best advice. Perhaps there is room for a best-friend character or confidant?
Earworm's biggest problem is not a lack of substance, but a lack of space and time to listen to itself. Its themes, relationships and supporting characters would benefit from room to play through without skipping over important events. Even so, the play's clever use of music, sharp humour, and flawed yet recognisable characters make it a production worth hearing, even when it's hitting the audience over the head with its message.
Review: James Dix