Minnie And Liraz (MTC)

The cross-generational culture war has commanded many a column inch of late. Stories about Millennial rage at fucked economies, extremist politics and eye-watering house prices are countered by Baby Boomers blaming it all on smashed avo, immigration, and the mollycoddled sense of entitlement they inadvertently gave their offspring.

But what of the often overlooked "Silent Generation" (those born before 1945)? What do they have to contribute to the debates thrumming in the zeitgeist? Not much, if Lally Katz's new play Minnie and Liraz is any indication. Apparently, our society's elders are a selfish, ruthless bunch, morbidly cavalier about death, and focused on their own gratification above all others - even their nearest and dearest.

This rather bleak indictment of old age is given a sappy, silly coating of pantomimic, predictable comedy in Katz's narrative, set in a "luxury" retirement home for Jewish seniors. In God's middle-class waiting room, the twilight years of the residents' lives are occupied by various gentle activities, such as "memoir classes", where seniors can chronicle their personal histories, and even the occasional bit of water aerobics. But for those aging adrenaline junkies in search of a bigger high, there's nothing quite like a hand of bridge.

Amongst the retirement home's most talented players is Minnie Cohen (Nancye Hayes). When her bridge partner of 17 years unexpectedly falls off the mortal coil, she's quickly accosted by the equally gifted yet entirely irritating Liraz Weinberg (Sue Jones), who's adamant about filling the vacancy. Minnie's aspirations are relatively sedate, but her greatest wish is that her 38-year-old granddaughter Rachel (Virginia Gay) should marry and start producing great-grandchildren as soon as reproductively possible, to satisfy an almost medieval preoccupation about furthering "the family line." Playing bridge with someone she - and her husband Morris (Rhys McConnochie) - find unbearable isn't high on Minnie's list of priorities, but Liraz has other assets that might sweeten the deal. The pair agree on a contract: Minnie will join forces with Liraz to win the National Seniors' Bridge Championship, so long as her new partner sets Rachel up with her nerdy but eligible grandson Ichabod (Peter Paltos).

There's no disputing this production boasts a more than capable cast, and they turn out some entertaining performances, but there are some fundamental shortcomings of this text that prove destructively problematic. Katz's geriatric story of elite card playing - with an unexpected twist in its tail - along with its tacked-on granny annex of a romantic subplot, seems to fumble all but the most glaringly obvious punchlines, including the use of elderly infirmity as a clownish motif. It's much like the pilot episode of an early evening sitcom, the kind that might air at 6pm on a Sunday night: it's perfectly inoffensive and charmingly twee, but lacks any true substance, depth, and perhaps most crucially, relevance.

The characters are simple, to the point of being crass; two-dimensional, one tone tropes driven by motivations that are frustratingly simplistic. Moments of arbitrary sentimentality are occasionally dolloped on, but largely these are superfluous to the ultimate (and to be honest, unsatisfying) conclusion. When genuine empathy would ring true, the emotional terrain of these characters is often warped to fit the plot - one crucial moment in particular sticks out for its inexplicable coldness, although I'll refrain from revealing any spoilers.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with finding the humour in the grim reality of aging. Indeed, Katz's set up is absolutely ripe for satire. But this play ends up groping at several competing comic tones that sit uncomfortably together. Naturalistic character comedy jostles with overplayed farce. A comedy of manners somehow stumbles into gallows slapstick. Director Anne-Louise Sarks has clearly traded consistency for laughs, going to the most direct methods of leveraging LOLs from each individual moment. But the key to a successful comedy is counterpoint, and a lack of any genuinely touching pathos is perhaps Minnie and Liraz's biggest sticking point. With nothing to tug the heart strings as well as tickle the funny bone, it's difficult to feel invested in the fates of this strange collection of people.

But the final straw, by this scribe's estimation at least, is a missed opportunity. At this play's core is a juxtaposition of two generations separated by decades of relentless progress, and yet there's barely any acknowledgment (save for a few inconsequential Instagram references) of the way our elders process the breakneck pace of our evolving culture. Our increasing dependence on technology has radically altered our social behaviours, and it's the eldest among us that are most detached from this new proto-transhumanist epoch. Of course, not every theatrical act has to also be a political one. Theatre can just exist in a happy hinterland, never pinning any colours to any masts. But given the currency of intergenerational culture clash today, and the calibre of playwright Lally Katz has proven herself to be in her past plays, glazing over this aspect is more than a little baffling.

Melbourne Theatre Company presents Minnie and Liraz till 24 Jun at the Fairfax Studio, Arts Centre Melbourne.