Published May 1 2004
London Romance: Sex, Money and Off to the (Dog) Races
The London of "Sun Is Shining" is all pale wood and steel. Everything has an ultramodern sheen. It is the sheen of fast money, fast talk and fast-moving lives. Cities are ruthless. They never lose that gleaming surface however many individuals get mangled.
The Mu-Lan Theater production of Matt Wilkinson's vivid, expertly done play opened on Tuesday night as part of the lively "Brits Off Broadway" festival now at the bright new theater complex, 59E59. It will play there through May 9.
It is too easy to call "Sun Is Shining" the painful tale of an interracial romance gone wrong, the uneasy beginning and inevitable end of an affair between a "chink in a suit" (a half-Asian, half-English trader) and a "jock on the wagon" (a Scottish artist and recovering alcoholic).
Phrases like "interracial romance" (or "cross-class encounter" or "intergenerational conflict") tend to make us think we know the basics before a show has even begun. We don't. There are as many kinds of interracial romances as there are individuals.
Dave (Daniel York) is boisterous and boastful. He joshes with the other traders about sex and money; he boasts (with the right sardonic edge) about his Paul Smith suits; he goes drinking and clubbing every night.
Lorna (Pauline Turner) is a high-strung loner. When the play begins she is on the phone, facing the audience, protesting that she will not go to a club under any circumstances. A few moments later her mood has changed. She is: "Standing there by my easel, fag in one hand, paintbrush in the other, shaking like a leaf. Because deep down, I knew . . . sooner or later it had to come. That moment. When I braved it. Because with drink, it's not easy stopping after 15 years, you still feel like you're 12 years old."
Dave and Lorna are in constant three-way conversations. Dave talks to his trader mates, to himself and to Lorna. Lorna talks mostly to herself and to Dave. And they both talk to us, of course.
These shifts can slow a good play down to a plod. Too many directors take the meaningful-pause-between-each-transition route. Too many insist that each monologue be delivered with high solemnity.
But Mr. Wilkinson, who also directed the play, understands dynamics and movement, and the two actors couldn't be better. Mr. York paces the stage with a heavy tread and hunched shoulders. Cellphones and beepers go off. He embodies competition and restless deal-making. Ms. Turner's moves are spare and concentrated. Her focus never lets up, whether she is talking passionately to Dave or staring into space, alone with her thoughts.
They meet at a club. Lorna sits at the bar with schoolgirl-prim posture, drinking a Coke. Dave is all manic bravado, "Well pop that down the old gullet, now, where's my fags . . . close my eyes." Then, "Swing the ax, Amex platinum, bosh . . . barman's already pouring me a special, this'll sort me out, this should do me in . . . Ooh my dancing, ooh my dancing, ooh my dancing feet."
They date (there's a wonderful scene at the dog races). Lorna moves into Dave's flat and Dave buys her an expensive necklace that looks like a fabulous dog collar. Lorna wants him to spend more time with her, to talk more about his family and his feelings. But talk about the past embarrasses and irritates Dave. He wants to be on the move, beepers and cellphones ringing, "I'm gonna be late" he explains putting on his shoes. "Chopper'll be chomping on the carpet."
Misunderstandings and disappointments pile up until one lover breaks away. But it's the journey, not the arrival that matters here. Mr. Wilkinson puts the right emphasis on Dave's defensiveness about his Chinese father: it flickers in and out of his consciousness. But there is almost nothing about Lorna's alcoholism, which feels unrealistic to me. Drink matters as much to a recovering alcoholic as family and lovers do. It would matter as much to Lorna as being half-Chinese matters to Dave.
Mr. York, Ms. Turner and Mr. Wilkinson capture so many quirks of feeling and speech. And of style as well, for two of Dave and Lorna's encounters are staged as court rituals. Suddenly his Cockney brashness gives way to British drawing room tones; so does her Scottish vehemence. We hear the strains of Baroque music, and they stand as if preparing for a court dance. It's a graceful reminder of how we dress ourselves up — in our best behavior as well as in our best clothes — to attract lovers.