Sex With Strangers

It begins in a very cinematic fashion – perhaps to be expected with Jocelyn Moorhouse directing – quotes from Salinger, Plath, Rushdie and more, flitting across the set, projected, before the title of the play emerges. These are opening credits that place us in the bookish world of Ethan Strange (Ryan Corr), a successful young, slightly brattish novelist and the older and less successful author Olivia (Jacqueline McKenzie). It's a device that will recur through the first act, though the quotes remain interesting, relevant too, as the technique and the not so charged sexual frolicking begin to become predictable, and then plain. The filmic quality can also be seen in the intimacy of the short scenes, despite the large space (a stunning modern cabin and apartment brilliantly designed by Tracy Grant Lord) and two-person cast.

The romance and chemistry between Corr and McKenzie seems to lack a certain charge, the spark that would be expected between such a disparate pairing, though each owns their character; Corr lazing in entitlement before buzzing, his pacing matching that of the constantly connected world that's helped him sustain his fame, McKenzie meek and appropriately proper, punctuating the submissive role with occasional coquettishness.

Sex With Strangers bubbles along with romcom pace, though by Act II the sex has all but fizzled out, and the strangers know each other too well as bickering about books takes the fore.

Running at Sydney Theatre Company Wharf 1 until Saturday 24 November