Frat, penned by Max Allen, was an intriguing, well-developed, and stylised play that offered a thought provoking exploration on masculinity, brotherhood, and the murky truth lying behind closed (frat) doors.
Prompting a glimpse into the inner workings of a frat house, I was quickly impressed by Allen’s writing, which was tight and sharp, and allowed for performances to shine as the show paced well and carried realistic dialogue. Staging and levelling was another highlight of the performance, where direction proved masterful in underlining and establishing hierarchy behind the group dynamic and conveying the boys’ relationships with each other. Aside from astute chemistry between the cast, attention to detail and preparation thus became the overall stand-out factor, crafting a very succinct and viable world for us to step into.
The aspect I had more difficulty in grasping however, lied in the play’s ambiguity. Plot points felt unresolved — I was confused at the purpose of the allegations faced against Vice-President Brent, which felt more like an apt power-play drama of “did he or didn’t he?”. Similarly, I wished that the plot line of a potentially homosexual frat member would have been explored with deeper consideration and greater clarification. While ambiguity certainly could have been intentional, it seemed as if the play was confused on where to stand, which resulted in an inability to sketch a clear judgement or message. Ultimately, while Frat was a compelling piece of work, it only scratched the surface of the range of issues it aimed to portray, and it failed to compel with enough profound substance beyond a typical portrayal of toxic masculinity.
Through no fault of the performance at all, my viewing experience was also unfortunately stunted by the layout of the theatre — which meant my perspective actually contained a sea of heads over the actors themselves. While I attempt to be a neutral and objective critic, admittedly it rendered my capacity to be immersed in the Frat world a difficult one, and I am certain I would have enjoyed the show more if my experience was more comfortable and I could actually see the thing.
Still, I was amused by the audience interaction as the cast trickled in to conduct their disturbing, yet perhaps authentic, cult-like rituals in the haze of the audience. My final thought is that this is a play for fans of Conclave, and thus Mean Girls too— smart, vicious, but entertaining (and with everyone out to get each other). In future runs, I wish all of their audience members a great view, as the play is meant to be enjoyed.
Image provided by Max Allen for press use.