Camden Fringe Review: THE PUBLICIST, Libra Theatre Cafe

There’s a make-or-break moment towards the end of The Publicist, where Julia Pilkington’s titular PR professional stands trapped on a phone call between two rails of clothing, a TV producer and former friend berating her on one side, her client trying to severe their professional relationship on the other. It’s an inventive bit of staging, and emblematic of this work of new writing’s approach to portraying the incestuousness of the media industry, the way it eats itself from the inside.

The play, by debut writer and co-director Zara Jayant’s (who works in PR herself, and founded the company behind this show, Halfway Productions, on the side) follows The Publicist, whose job is her entire life, so she never gets a name. She’s on the brink of being fired from her agency, and her childhood friend is her only client. Said friend, Marcus, is a notoriously private writer with a turbulent personal life, who made his name with a novel inspired by his difficult upbringing, and who’s gearing up for a rare TV interview to promote its film adaptation.

Much about this show is jarring at first. There's copious jargon from the worlds of journalism and PR, and some over-acted obsequiousness from Pilkington and from Julia Hetta-Johnson as TV producer Olivia, all of which creates a sense of cloying artifice. But that’s part of the point – if the character of Marcus' mistress (Georgina Collins) making damaging leaks to the press feels shallow, that's because this play has taken us to a universe concerned only with the shallow.

The Publicist feels written deliberately to be surface-level, the machinations of those who can make or break celebrity reputations laid bare for all to see. After we’ve been drawn into this claustrophobic and narcissistic world, the gradual breakdown of a woman who’s hedged her entire career in PR on the wrong horse, played to woman-on-the-verge perfection by Pilkington, is wholly believable.

The detail that the Publicist and Marcus are childhood friends should be an interesting rejoinder to all of this, an opportunity for Jayant to delve into the tensions that come when a personal relationship becomes professional, but at the moment it feels underexplored. We are given only tantalising hints at a potential love triangle between the two and Marcus’ unseen wife, and a curious throwaway line comparing Marcus’ Estuary accent with the Publicist’s RP is frustratingly never touched on again. In fact, Marcus’ self-imposed distance from the media world makes him a rather opaque figure, and actor Joe Flynn’s cheeky chappie charm can’t make up for his character being underwritten.

Emily Ritchie's direction of the show is tight, as it currently runs to well under an hour. Perhaps some of these unanswered questions could be elaborated on with an extended runtime. At the same time, the main plot is interspersed with several mostly unrelated vignettes, in which the multi-roling ensemble perform as influencers, giving in-depth astrological analysis or promoting whale semen as a haircare product – these help give a broader sense of how overwhelming the 24-hour social media news cycle can be, but they could potentially be cut in favour of spending more time on the central relationships.

This is a show deeply concerned with appearances, and the often invisible work of those working tirelessly to keep up those appearances. The inevitable climax when all illusions are shattered is rather abrupt, and possibly some of the ideas here need a little more time on stage to breathe. They are however, interesting and compellingly performed ideas, and I look forward to seeing what Halfway Productions does next.

The Publicist played at the Libra Theatre Cafe on 10 August

Photo credits: Joanna Shuen