Loser is the story of the ten year reunion of Glenwood High. Told in a series of vignettes tracing how the events of seven main characters school and home lives have brought them to today.

The opening scene sets the tone for the piece. Liz a social outcast is about to jump to her death. She hears a Greek chorus of students below, yelling something: "Jump Jump Jump …" A teacher interrupts the group. Perhaps he will be her saviour. He joins the chorus: "Jump Jump Jump …"

Clint O’Malley is the cock sure rugby hero, who never quite got past those glory days when he "damaged the pussy" of every girl in the school. That is every girl except Meagan the most popular girl now keeping a tight reign on organising the reunion, desperately working to maintain a facade of perfection.

The reunion is on the night of Ryan’s birthday. He spends the beginning of the evening on the telephone ringing through his list of invitees. Does the lack of any RSVPs mean that no one will be present to party with the DJ fancy-pants? Will his lifelong search for a friend, any friend, go unrewarded.

Head girl Judith is in the office of her psychiatrist, having snapped under the pressure of her rampant over achieving; panic-stricken to the point of immobility. He helps her make the reunion by getting her closer to nature.

While the characters themselves may seem familiar if you have seen any of a number of high school reunion films, Phillip the developmentally challenged boy is out of the blue. It was slightly unclear as to whether he was always like this or this happened through an "accident" that is but briefly touched upon. What is clear is that the actor playing the role does not miss a beat and brings some humanity to an almost unbelievable character.

The energetic ensemble cast each takes more than one role, the changes signalled with a slight adjustment of costume, or hair. There is never any confusion as to who is who, even as the narrative jumps back and forth, as each of the actors does a fine job of maintaining the distinct characters. (It is a small shame that the actors are listed in the programme unattached to their roles. Given that the performances are universally strong, it would seem that the actors deserve individual credit for their work.)

[The actors are: Serena Cotton, Stephen Fitzgibbon, Hannah Marshall, Brett O’Gorman, Caren Pistorius, Benedict Wall.]

Thomas Sainsbury’s words have such a strong New Zealand vernacular, a note perfect cadence of teens overheard on public transport, that it doesn’t take long to forget that we have seen most of this before, and go along for the ride – or should I say roll along, as I found myself doubled over in laughter almost on the floor at the dark humour.

The pace of the piece is fast, and the laughs keep on coming. If one was closer to high school age then perhaps the barbs in the humour may have stung more. The healing power of time had me able to laugh without thinking too much of my own place in Sainsbury’s world.

That is unless I attend my own high school reunion to remind myself exactly which of these losers I am.

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

Being a Thomas Sainsbury virgin, I didn’t know what to expect. Revenge of the nerds? Not quite… ‘Pleasantly’ surprised may be the wrong turn of phrase – I can’t say I left the theatre with a warm glow. But Loser is a hilarious pitch black (/raw zit pink) comedy, emotionally-charged, over-the-top, but close to the bone – which is why it’s so bloody funny.

We meet the former students of Glenwood High on their way to a ten year reunion. Liz, the wannabe-suicidal reject, has convinced herself for the last twelve years that she’s in a relationship with the most popular guy in high school, Clint who, in turn, is still fixated on screwing Megan, the hottest girl in school and about the only one who’s pants he didn’t get into.

Megan herself has lately been having trouble holding her brittley perfect life together, and Judith, pathologically over-achieving head girl who suffered a breakdown in her final year, is now concentrating on ‘the tree’ to calm her panic attacks, thanks to the crooning advice of her kooky therapist, ‘Barnaby’.

Then there’s Philip, the surly A.D.D. guy, in an equally freakish family situation, and Ryan, the sensitive nerd with zero self esteem who never wanted anything more than to be friends with the cool kids (and didn’t spare himself an ounce of pride in trying to achieve it).

Serena Cotton is immaculate as the pasty, histrionic Liz, who’s name nobody ever remembers. Both Brett O’Gorman and Benedict Wall are hilarious and versatile in their roles as (respectively) Ryan/Dr. ‘Barnaby’ and Clint/Philip’s dad. And Stephen Fitzgibbon steals the show as the frenzied Philip with an exfoliating scowl and mental age of about 13. Newcomer Caren Pistorius’ performance as Megan is the least substantial, though she does a convincing popular-girl-showing-a-chink-in-her-supercool-armour, adding a rare taste of humanity, ironically, in contrast to the other ruthless characterisations.

The combination of a well-crafted script, near-perfect casting, and fastidious direction, make Loser so very watchable, despite the devastating cringe factor. In fact, the laugh-to-cringe ratio will probably be in direct relation to how seriously you still take your own high school traumas. You’d think something as unhappily nostalgic as a high school reunion piss-take could drag out painfully, yet Loser draws you in and time flies, right to the bitter end.

There are parts in the play where you’ll find yourself laughing against your will, but you won’t be able to help it. You might want to ask yourself: how much of a masochist are you and do you really want to relive the nightmare of schoolyard taunting, popularity competitions, bulimia and social stigma? Yes, you do, just don’t say I didn’t warn you: you’ll laugh your breakfast up; it’s just not for the faint-hearted.

Loser tells it like it was. Is it possible to tell from the seemingly irreversible social typecasting of high school who will turn out to be biggest the loser? Or are the ultimate losers the ones who were lulled into a false sense of security before they hit the ‘real world’?

A deliberately budget set (ratty chairs, trestle tables and a bottle of supermarket brand bleach – oh, and a small bit of stage for Liz to tell everyone she’s jumping off) adds to the tragic, desperate high school atmosphere. Even the school-shaped cake comes to a sticky end.

The moral of this story, if there is one, is that everyone’s a loser, so don’t worry about what anyone thinks of you. Preferably, don’t go on your own; take someone freakier than you, so you can leave feeling like the cool kid.
 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer