Copy That: an effervescently nasty ensemble with crack comic timing
16 Nov 2019

by Drew Rowsome - Production photos by Cylla von Tiedemann

Four harried writers are racing to get the scripts for a police procedural television series completed. Not only are they contending with their own internecine battles, but there are calls from Elsa, their boss and the level between the writers and the network's decisions, who has lot of notes and suggestions. Copy That is a fast paced comic vivisection of the foibles of television creation. The writers spout clichés in pursuit of being "fresh," use racial and gender stereotypes in pursuit of being woke, and insist they are artists with vision while they casually sell out.

The satire zings merrily along until there is an incident, driving while black, and one of the writer's has his political conscience set ablaze. Conflict among the five escalates and playwright Jason Sherman uneasily tackles some very tough issues while maintaining Copy That's comic tone. And doesn't succeed, which very well be the point. The Copy That characters not only turn on each other, the play turns on the audience with a conceptual masterstroke.

As the characters race to abandon their ideals - and struggle to come up with plausible reasons and excuses why - Sherman toys with the stakes. As a theatre audience, who have braved the elements to experience art, we are predisposed to look at television smugly. We are eager to laugh at the inferior creative process even though Sherman is clear to point out it is work, an honest craft and job. And Sherman ups the ante by seducing us with television tropes - the disembodied voice (Charlie, Carlton the doorman, Debbie Wolowitz), rhythmic punchline beats, the workplace setting with outside relationships only existing for motivation, etc - which through sheer familiarity are comforting.

Sherman even has a character quote from a screenwriting textbook about a technique which is then mocked by the other characters as a pointless suggestion. At which point Sherman uses the technique, not once, but twice, and both times successfully. The skill of satirical subtext is so effective that the audience is reduced to a laugh track. It is a comfortable and very uncomfortable place to be. Director Jamie Robinson pushes it just a bit further, having the cast fire off their lines with occasional appeals directly to the audience. Not enough to shatter the fourth wall but, in true television close-up style, enough to make the viewer/audience complicit.

Like a very special episode, we are presented with contentious difficult material that is never resolved, but a twist ending and gag lets us off the hook. Except, in this case, the hook remains lodged. The cast tasked with keeping the farce and clichés spinning while being unrealistically real, constantly operating on two levels, is formidable. Richard Waugh claims centre stage as the world weary showrunner who is nominally in charge, and whose crusty exterior cracks heroically. It is a showy role and Waugh bites into it with the glee of a television actor given actual dialogue.

Tony Ofori (Bunny) simmers with moral indignation making his eventual explosive dilemma all the more powerful. Emma Ferreira bristles with frustration and adds subtle shades to the conceptually underwritten part of the underwritten female character. Jeff Lillico (Unravelled, Bang Bang, Tom at the Farm, Cinderella) anchors the proceedings with a slimy but appealing utter lack of remorse or virtue. Janet Laine-Green is a grande dame diva and relishes not only her villainy but also the brief flashes of vulnerability. Together they form an effervescently nasty troupe as they banter and betray each other, adding a Lubitsch touch to the deceptive ease of a sitcom or procedural ensemble.

Waugh refers to the series' "bible" and it is not much of a leap to view Copy That as a meditation on basic morality and decency. The characters are not just flawed, they are frequently despicable. And tragically, their goal is never to create art, just to write what will either sell or please their overlords. In the same manner, Copy That is eager to please, there are copious laughs and plot twists but the final result is to force us to look at the machinations and analyze the problems and horrors that Copy That presents but doesn't grapple with. The hope is that we will apply the same scrutiny to life's inequalities and injustices as we do to television's, and theatre's, glib presentation of them as entertainment.