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English writer Michael Frayn, his long-time collaborator, director Michael Blakemore, and the Sydney Theatre Company collaborated wonderfully well on 2002's Copenhagen. That dense historical drama was a captivating event, just right for the Wharf Theatre stage.
Unfortunately, the trio's latest collaboration, Democracy, doesn't quite have the narrative weight or stylistic potency that should be commensurate with the move to the large Sydney Theatre stage.
The "docudrama'' about the relationship between Willy Brandt, the West German chancellor from 1969 to 1974, and his assistant (and Stasi agent), Günter Guillaume, seems of marginal interest, even if it's presented with aplomb. The tale of a meandering, philandering politician and a torn secret agent doesn't possess the pull of Copenhagen's moralising about the atomic bomb.
That said, Blakemore's leads, Philip Quast as Brandt and Geoff Kelso's Guillaume, are terrific, delivering Frayn's elegant and occasionally sad wordplay.
Quast is nuanced and likeable (reminding us what a treat it is to have him back) while Kelso dips in and out of his quasi-narrator role deftly.
It was a complex relationship between a layered politician and an increasingly confused spy. Despite the huge stage on which Brandt danced - the fractured cold war Germany - Frayn's play is more about human intricacies.
The rest of the ensemble is burdened with some one-dimensional roles although Sean Taylor and John Gaden make the most of theirs.
Peter J. Davison's set conveys the mundanity of '70s German politics efficiently without distraction.
But perhaps Democracy needs some distractions.
It can be awfully dry despite Frayn reinforcing his many skills along the way. At times you feel like you're consuming Democracy just because it's good for you. Theatre should be a little more liberating than that.
