An inspired satire of school bureaucracy and the language of the modern Left.
It’s fair to say that the theatre is quite left-wing. Walk into any foyer and you’ll find audiences that shiver at the names of Truss and Kwarteng (rightly so, given recent events). So when a show comes around that not only makes us reconsider our progressivism, but makes us laugh at it as well? We’ve got a show on our hands.
The show in question is Eureka Day, written by Jonathan Spector and directed by Katy Rudd, making its UK premiere after a 2019 run in the States. We take our seats at Eureka Day School, a private elementary in Berkeley, California (Rob Howell’s set design evoking the eerie-cheery Sunnyside from Toy Story 3). All five members of the school’s committee, from dad-shorts Don to stay-at-home tech millionaire Eli, represent a very modern type of liberal, perfectly summed up by Sarah Rose Leonard in the show’s programme: ‘very concerned, politically involved, trying to help, and yet, incredibly rude’.
The language of this play, both verbal and physical, is instantly recognisable and amusing: if one person is sat down, everyone sits down to meet their level; every sentence is three times the length it needs to be and starts with a W1A-esque ‘yeah, no, course’; the school’s production of Peter Pan is set in outer space to remove any colonial influences. By making sure that any possible offence is banished from every statement and action they make, the committee comes across as more aggressive than they would if they were actually aggressive. Since it’s in good faith and attempting to improve the ‘community’ (get used to that word), it’s a stable vernacular when times are good. However, the sub-text rises to the surface when an outbreak of mumps at the school pits parental autonomy against collective safety.
It’s mind-boggling to walk out and discover that this play was written in 2019. With references to ‘anti-vaxxers…false positives…herbal remedies’, the parallels with a certain Event feel heavy-handed until you realise that said Event hasn’t happened yet – it’s a testament to Spector’s observation of tribal panic that he’s managed to skewer our response to Covid before Covid even existed. The undoubtable highlight of the show is a Zoom call discussing a school-wide lockdown, where the parents’ chat is projected behind the committee’s trivial ramblings. I shan’t say more but it’s wee-yourself hilarious.
Spector happily lampoons these characters throughout the first act, but before any of them slip into caricature he digs deep into why these characters are so immovable in their beliefs – here the actors really shine. May’s (Kirsten Foster) frustration at the committee’s jargon bubbles over into a stirring monologue that I suspect will appear in many drama school auditions in the next few years: ‘something new isn’t good just because it’s new’. Animosity between Carina and Suzanne (Susan Kelechi Watson and Oscar-winner Helen Hunt) explodes, repairs and explodes again as their assumptions about the other unravel. As an audience member you give in to the tribalism and, by the end, find yourself aligned with a character that now seems so far from what you thought they were. It’s superb character development – a perfect fusion of writer, director and actor that never slips into melodrama.
In spite of some slightly jarring pacing, this is a stellar production that continues The Old Vic’s excellent run of form in recent months. And for those of us who pride ourselves on being ‘progressive’, it’s a big wake-up call.