A sharp mockery of Hollywood politics
Originally premiering at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2021 and returning to London a fourth time in the Jack Studio, Press sees Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller as writer, director and lead in this snappy two-hander. The premise already gets the palms sweating: two Hollywood producers do some Olympic level damage control after it comes to light that their based-on-a-true-story, award-baiting slavery flick’s leading actor (a white man) is in fact playing a man who was himself a slave (a black man). Their dreams of winning a ‘Goldie’ are in peril, and to make matters worse the nominations are being announced in an hour.
Brimmer-Beller’s writing is beautifully parodic. Frequently unafraid to kick below the belt of the Hollywood idyll, there’s an honest jadedness. His clunky attempts at executing the most PR friendly statement when put on the spot are brilliant stuff. Every squirm and twitch and bead of sweat feels magnified. Rosie Hart, Brimmer-Beller’s level-headed colleague, is all unflappable coolness until she starts making her brown-nosing phone calls to the big-wigs. It’s all about who you know after all, or whose boot you’re willing to lick cleanest.
The dramatic pacing is strong. The action progresses nicely, only rarely becoming slack. As flies on the wall we see the unfiltered desperation build, nearly every last option is evaluated in speedy detail. Sometimes the humming and hawing begins to grate, but often it leads to quippy retorts and welcome absurdity. The absurd is especially effective when performed with a humanely frank desperation, the occasional sitcommy grimaces and punchlines only pull us out of the action — particularly in such an intimate venue.
In all, Press is a sharply executed mockery of the Hollywood veneer. Its jabs at the corporate repackaging of diversity and inclusion that suck all the meaning out of the words and consumerist entertainment are articulate but never unfunny. Nathaniel Brimmer-Beller has a zany, zeitgeist aware style that keeps the laughs coming in this canny work of theatre.