Max and Sabrina met at Drama School. Max and Sabrina love each other as friends, maybe a little more than friends. Max and Sabrina do everything together; they confess their dream roles (well Max does), run lines, bitch about their audition competition and swap cynicisms about the acting industry.

There’s probably nothing more self-referential than two drama school graduates playing drama school graduates in front of an audience of drama people (judging by the quick laughter). But this is part of the charm of Big Time. The zingy one-liners and the genuine chemistry of the two actors make this show immensely watchable, and its 75-minute run time fly by. Every scene is Max and Sabrina talking about acting; playwright Isabella McDermott slides in plenty of in-jokes but she also unobtrusively fills in detail about the world and character background.

This is the development season of Big Time; it’s true low budget indie theatre (this is not a bad thing; indie theatre is celebrated in the play). The set looks like it’s scrounged from friends’ houses, garages and recycle bins. There’s a bench and a high stool; two coat racks where the actors change clothes between every scene; piles of boxes, empty drink bottles and rubbish bags to denote the back of the upmarket theatre where the friends routinely meet to debrief. Lighting design by Michael Goodwin and sound design by Lachie Oliver-Kirby is unobtrusive. The design rightfully gets out of the way to let the text do its work, except for some key moments where a big mood shift is required.

Although McDermott started writing Big Time in New York and there are references to American institutions such as HBO, the shift in setting to our local theatre scene works seamlessly. I guess the theatre life is not so different between Auckland and New York. Lines like ‘staying in the acting game is only for those who can afford it’ got big laughs, and I can think of some Auckland theatres (cough) where you only dare to stand at the front bar if you are trendy, well-heeled, or have a lead role in the play. McDermott offers some amusing insights into traversing this environment as a young woman; the play is subtly, unapologetically feminist, and I cheered every time points were scored against the culture of youth and beauty that still unfortunately pervades the industry.

Big Time is carried by the two leads, who do a great job in delivering dense dialogue with clarity and conviction. Molly Curnow as ‘mousey’, swotty, drama-nerd Max is a believable, if predictable character. We all know a Max: the classmate who everyone knows is really good, goes over and above to put in the work, but somehow is just never picked for a role. Max, just like every other Max, is left to stitch together a collection of part-time jobs to pay the rent while fending off her well-meaning mother who wants her to get a decent job at the bank and give up on her acting dreams.

Meanwhile glamorous Sabrina, played by Kirana Gaeta, isn’t even sure why she went to drama school. She doesn’t bother to study scripts or learn anything about classic plays. She doesn’t see the point of pushing her agent to get her roles. She still lives with her well-off parents, ‘because why would I pay to live in a mouldy flat with a flatmate who deals drugs when I could live at home for free?’. (She knows the flatmate is a drug dealer because duh, she dabbles in recreational drugs for lack of anything better to do, and she buys drugs off the flatmate).

Sabrina isn’t sure how she feels about her status as the little sister who hasn’t achieved anything; she toys with the idea of giving up on an acting career, but the only alternative seems to be fulfilling family status expectations by getting married, ‘as if that’s an achievement’. Sabrina genuinely enjoys the reflected drama nerdery from the more intellectual Max and is a loyal support when Max shares her dreams of landing a lead role in a TV drama penned by her favourite writer.

We know what will happen, of course (it’s in the play blurb) but it’s the speed of the dialogue and many times I was nodding my head at the insights into the nature of friendship and how they can implode when two people embark on different paths and envy gets in the way of understanding. I also enjoyed the discussion of the catch-22 that actors face. The actor who is not ‘conventionally attractive’ struggles with seeing roles – even character roles – go to someone who is the ‘in’ actor of the moment. But the ‘in’, beautiful actor struggles with the perception that they only got cast because of their bodies and not because they are talented, and there’s so much envy that they can’t trust anyone.

Big Time is a delightful exploration of female friendship, growth in young adulthood and the weird turns that careers can take, carried by a clever script and confident performances from its two actors. Although it’s set in the world of theatre, I feel the same messages could apply to any competitive field where dreams are sold to ingénues, and even though they are smart enough to see it coming, they still fall prey to a system that prizes appearances and vibe over diligence.

The season is sold out.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer