Review: TABLE 17, Kiln Theatre
Photo credit: Steve Gregson
Very few people would willingly sit down to an impromptu dinner with their ex-partner and discuss how their relationship deteriorated. Most, however, couldn't resist an invitation to become willing and vocal observers of how it would play out for another couple. This voyeuristic impulse sits at the heart of Douglas Lyons' Table 17.
At a time when immersive theatre is on the rise, Zhailon Levingston's production doesn't just break the fourth wall, it bulldozes through it. From the very start, Marisha Wallace's Jada invites, nay insists, that we, the audience, are vocal in our reactions to what unfolds, as if it were an adult pantomime. House lights regularly rise and when Jada asks for opinions on her outfit, she expects genuine responses. Likewise, when Jamael Westman's Dallas seeks advice from the crowd, he means it.
Cabaret-style seating extends into the two front rows to help blur the divide between performer and spectator, allowing eye contact and audience interaction to become part of the comedy. How you feel about this level of audience involvement will have a direct impact on your enjoyment of the show. However, be warned: once an audience's inhibitions are removed, there is always the risk that main-character energy can spread through the amateur chorus, transforming the performance into a theatrical edition of Gogglebox.
Fortunately, this is the only notable misstep in an otherwise superb comedy-drama which has its UK premiere at the Kiln Theatre, following its off-Broadway and Los Angeles runs in recent years. In Table 17, Lyons uses an awkward reunion dinner as a framework through which increasingly revealing flashbacks chart the deterioration of a once-promising romance between ex-couple Jada and Dallas. With Amy Jane Cook's raised and revolving dinner-booth set cleverly serving both intimacy and discomfort; it is just spacious enough for reconciliation, yet restrictive enough to prevent either character from ever settling comfortably for long.
Levingston navigates the shifts between past and present with impressive fluidity, aided by Matt Haskins' excellent lighting design. The transitions are seamless, allowing the emotional revelations to emerge naturally. Wallace and Westman share an effortless chemistry, combining strong comic instincts with genuine emotional depth. Even as painful truths surface, Lyons ensures the audience continues to hope for a reconciliation.
Musical theatre star Wallace is no stranger to put-upon women who must fight their corner, having memorably played Ado Annie in Oklahoma! and Miss Adelaide in Guys and Dolls. Her Jada is no different, with razor-sharp comic timing and emotional honesty proving she can be equally compelling in this her first straight play. High-maintenance and image-conscious, she goes through several fantastic costume changes throughout the play, while Wallace reveals enough vulnerability beneath the bravado to make her deeply sympathetic. Wallace demonstrates once again why she is among the most charismatic performers working today, albeit we miss hearing her vocal gymnastics, bar one brief moment.
Westman's Dallas provides the perfect counterbalance. Dallas carries an easy confidence and streetwise charm, but beneath the swagger lies an appealing awkwardness that makes him instantly likeable. Together, the pair create a relationship that feels lived-in, messy and authentic.
Michael Rishawn completes the cast, reprising the multiple supporting roles he originated. Displaying remarkable versatility, he shifts effortlessly from suave bartender to flirtatious flight attendant. Yet it is as the flamboyant maître d' and waiter River that he nearly steals the show. Armed with impeccably timed one-liners and deliciously scathing observations, River serves as both commentator and comic relief, helping to break the tension between the warring diners. Rishawn's performance brings some of the evening's biggest laughs, while his character's own reflections on loneliness provide an unexpectedly touching counterpoint to the emotional baggage of the central story.
Lyons' script is witty, fast-paced and consistently funny, balancing contemporary slang with genuine emotional insight. Dallas' description of Jada as "whatever I say next will be used against me in her court of law" neatly captures both the play's comic sharpness and its understanding of a relationship in turmoil. The themes themselves may not break new ground, but the execution is refreshingly assured, with the dual timelines handled with clarity and confidence.
Table 17 may not offer any new observations about modern relationships, but it packages familiar truths with warmth, humour and considerable charm. If you've ever found yourself fascinated by somebody else's romantic train wreck, this smart and engaging production is well worth booking a table for.
**** Four stars
Reviewed by: Phil Meikle
Table 17 plays at London’s Kiln Theatre until 24 October, with tickets available here.