You enter the theatre, and a woman is lying, dishevelled, on a bed. Shadowed in darkness, she lies unmoving. How will Sian get out of the hole she’s found herself in? This is the underlying question at the start of Sian De Bergerac, written by Emma Cooney and produced by Red Oak Theatre.
An exploration of modern relationships, it follows Sian, a young woman who has recently lost her job as a result of overwhelming grief following the death of her father. Her partner, Theo, sees Sian swinging between catatonic despair and manic hyperactivity and, seeing that his suggestions of family time and self-help books have failed, suggests she gets a job.
As Sian wants to be a writer, he suggests working at Love Amor, a dating site where men can pay for other people to message women on their behalf. What starts off as an interesting creative exercise slowly consumes Sian’s life, and her unresolved distress bubbles to the fore.
Stylish, modern and confronting, the play asks what it means to connect and what the dangers are when we outsource our feelings. The high concept dystopia of Love Amor is already a reality: a Vice article from 2014 demonstrates that wealthy men have been paying for this privilege for over a decade. Dating apps are depressing: why not outsource the effort if you have the money? The play deftly explores the risks of this, not just on old-fashioned romance, but for safeguarding the women on the other side of these fake interactions.
On top of this, Sian De Bergerac explores problems of the modern age that are closer to home. Self-help books, grief podcasts, therapy speak and the issue of having too much knowledge but too little compassion. Theo is desperate for Sian to return to some form of normality, but fails to recognise that normality is not the same as safety, and is ill-equipped to deal with complex or pathological grief.

Cooney’s narrative is engaging and fast-paced: time flies as you follow the highs and lows of Sian’s new career. if anything, it moves too quickly at points, and the dialogue, in needing to express ideas clearly and raise stakes quickly, can come across as arched or naïve. Theo is especially prone to speaking his subtext out loud to further the plot, and some of the conflicts – particularly those between Sian and her manager – seem purposely inflated to advance the plot.
While Sian is complex and fascinating, the women she speaks to are often reduced to stereotypes – one loves yoga, another luxury dining, another is a clever, sensitive novelist. This doesn’t substantially reduce the quality of the overall piece, but does occasionally take you out of the action. The script, then, would have benefitted from giving the relationships more room to breathe, but that doesn’t negate the intriguing and emotionally volatile world that Cooney has created.

Andy Pike’s video design offers a strong sense of being sucked into the virtual world. Strange retro game aesthetics are used to show the highs and lows of Love Amor – the dopamine hits, emotional vortexes and slumps – although, while this aesthetic is fleshed out in the marketing, it hasn’t been carried over to the visuals of the show. Some visual clarity is missing from the scenes focusing on the dating app (which looks a little simple to be a luxury brand), on account of none of the women having profile pictures and some having similar-sounding names.
Geri McNamara is electric as Sian; she deftly manages the emotional highs and lows, moving between heightened parody and stark realism throughout. The multi-role Aron Cynan makes each of his characters (Theo, his best friend Charles, Sian’s manager, and her clients) feel distinct. Charles, who’s in love with Sian, is particularly affecting, adding emotional complexity to this surreal and strange world. Samantha Jones’s direction is sensitive and well-pitched, creating strong and engaging dynamics throughout.
Overall, a strong show from a debut writer with things to say. If you can catch Sian De Bergerac, I would – it’s great to see theatre companies taking risks with this intriguing Black Mirror-style drama.
Sian De Bergerac, Sherman Theatre, Cardiff, Wed 23 Sept
On until Sat 26 Sept. Tickets: from £16. Info: here
words HARI BERROW
