Ulster American is an uproarious comedy about the fragile egos of contemporary creatives, whose political and artistic agendas come to the fore in a farcical three-hander. David Whiteley is impressive as Leigh, a squeamish theatre director who attempts to keep his production afloat when conflict breaks out between his star actor, Jay, who Steve Bastoni plays with convincing repugnance, and Ruth, the playwright, played by the versatile and dynamic Sarah Sutherland.
Produced by Red Stitch Actors’ Theatre and directed by Brett Cousins, Ulster American is designed to be controversial: the conflict rests on a horrifying hypothetical question posed by Jay to Leigh, which Ruth later finds out about. While the script is undeniably witty, its insistence on shock value comes to feel trite and overwrought after some time. Despite the suave set design, whip-tight writing, and the unanimously impressive performances, Ulster American’s attempts to be of-the-moment falter. For example, Twitter is weaponised by the play’s end, despite an apparently stubborn choice by writer David Ireland to never learn how it works.
Ulster American is a clever play. This, however, doesn’t give it a ticket out of the flippant way it addresses the inciting conflict. While the characters are vile and presented as such, the play seems to bait its audience and then mock them a touch for taking offence to jokes about sexual assault. Where do you draw the line between shock humour used to point out the flaws of shocking characters, and shock humour that’s cheap and nasty? It’s a line that Ulster American skirts with glee. Sometimes its frank look at the hypocrisies of the creative elite feels genuinely incisive, and others it feels like all-too-familiar sneering about political correctness. It sets out to make its audience uncomfortable. It does so with precision. The trouble is, outrage and shock are the only things it can produce consistently. It wants to provoke thought but only uses buzz words as hollow projectiles to project the insecurities of its characters against one another. The ending is slapdash, unassisted by clunky direction, and set to a baffling musical choice which makes the last moments feel like an insane pivot where a proper conclusion should be. While it has its moments, Ulster American isn’t nearly as thought-provoking as it makes itself out to be.
