Review: Ruben Guthrie at Herald Theatre

Oliver Driver holds the audience's attention as Ruben Guthrie. Photo / Andrew Malmo

This is the One About the Alcoholic - but it's less predictable or painfully emotional and far more entertaining than such a description promises.

As such, it fits nicely into Silo Theatre's line-up of comic dramas about young urban scenesters for young urban audiences. And happily, for the most part, Australian playwright Brendan Cowell takes the advice of his own characters: if you want to be a writer, you can't afford to be earnest.

The title character is an advertising creative, dragged to a meeting for alcoholics by his long-suffering mother (Ellie Smith) and Czech model girlfriend (Chelsie Preston Crayford, in colour-popping eyeshadow and spiky, avant-garde threads).

Boldly, Ruben Guthrie raises useful questions about the sacred cow of recovery programmes (depicting them as mind-controlling), while also taking a swipe at the "friends" who keep offering Ruben liquor.

The display of hard-drinking, nasty-minded and foul-mouthed advertising culture rings true, and shifting the action to Auckland works well. Local references - Karen Walker, Chesdale Cheese jingles - flow as fast as the Steinlager beer (which rises up on the bar in a halo of dry ice).

The best sly wink from Ruben (Oliver Driver) is about waking up bright and early when sober: "Paul and Pippa become your best friends."

Rather than, um, Sunrise co-host Oliver Driver?

Driver, showman that he is, fits the part like it was written for him. He has the energy and charisma to hold attention and sympathy for the two hours he's onstage, despite Ruben's unflagging egotism.

Shane Bosher's assured direction pulls the play off the page and gives it legs - especially in the suspiciously convincing drug binge scene - and he gets committed performances out of the fantastic cast.

Dean Gorman enjoys sashaying around as the fabulously gay best friend; tiny Smith mothering the gigantic Driver is endearingly funny; Toni Potter, like Gorman, doesn't flinch from nudity.

Many motivations are glossed over: we don't see why or how Ruben moves from reluctant to (relatively) converted programme participant, while the trigger for his heavy drinking - his guilt about a friend's suicide - is just too neat.

The ending also tries far too hard to tug at the heart strings. But still, this is a smart production of an engaging play.

* Ruben Guthrie is showing until October 17