Zach Braff’s ‘All New People’

It looked so good on paper. A brand new play, written by and starring Zach Braff, the loveable nerd who expanded the loveable nerd pigeon hole established in Scrubs, to accommodate for his new talents as director and credible indie actor in Garden State.

The curtain rises on All New People, now on a ten-week run in London’s West End, to reveal our beloved Braff standing on a chair, cigarette in hand, noose around neck, Riverdance playing on the record player. A startling image to open with but having sold itself as a black comedy, this seems promising. But as he prepares to make the final leap, the door to his luxurious beach house unexpectedly opens as frazzled British estate agent, Emma (Eve Myles), inadvertently invites herself into Charlie’s crisis.

The elderly Jewish couple she is planning on showing round the property will have to wait. Having restored Charlie safely to the ground after a surprisingly hilarious slapstick opener as he swings around the stage, Emma has a few questions. It turns out Charlie is having a bad time and has borrowed his friend’s beach house to work through things. Not that he will have much chance as his supposed final night on earth is cruelly interrupted by a group of equally troubled, but more highly wired, characters.

Sadly the opportunity to abuse this device for witty character interplay is missed as we are introduced to an ensemble of stock characters including Emma, the drug-addled Brit with a secret, Kim (Susannah Fielding), the $15,000 a night ‘Louis Vuitton of prostitutes’, with a secret and Myron (Paul Hilton), the cocksure fireman and resident drug dealer. With a secret. And a penchant for Shakespeare.

The set up is simple as the three intruding characters try to get to the bottom of Charlie’s sadness while trying to keep their respective dark secrets hidden. Thankfully, the audience are given insight through film flashbacks, a unique device that not only provided a distraction from the farce but also filled in the many blanks; at only 90 minutes, there isn’t much time for necessary character development which would certainly help explain my lack of empathy with anyone on stage.

Braff plays a surprisingly low key role, owning the smallest percentage of lines, allowing the other characters to revel in their own disarray as they – or at least the audience – learn they are all as fucked up as Charlie, perhaps they just don’t have the volition to do something about it.

Saving moments include the scene between Myron and Charlie as he finally reveals the truth behind why he was found dangling from an extension cord, exposing the subdued talent of Hilton and reminding us why we love Braff in pensive indie roles. Moments like this made me join Charlie as he screamed at the other characters to ‘get out’, in the hope that they would and move the attention from the shrill towards the hints at tenderness the script allowed.

Particularly since the effects of this touching moment was eradicated as swiftly as the ill-fated line of coke Kim hoovers with aplomb – less funny, more frustrating.

Selling itself as a black comedy, All New People just didn’t go black enough, almost as if it was scared to the depths it could delve in a plot residing around suicide, instead resorting to stock platitudes of the ‘You’re not alone’/‘we’re all in this together’ ilk.

The off-Broadway debut of All New People did not feature Braff, a decision I feel would have been wise, much that I enjoyed the opportunity to see Braff on stage, there is such a thing as being too close to your characters. Considering the incredible amount of marketing behind the play, I fear Braff was brought on stage as a box office ploy, a thought supported by the distinctly ‘non-theatre’, but nonetheless receptive, audience, if I may resort to such stock representations of audiences….

All New People is showing until April 28 at:

Duke of York’s Theatre
St Martin’s Lane
Covent Garden
WC2N 4BG

Tel: 0844 871 7627