ART

“Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth”. Pablo Picasso

What starts as a puzzlement by one friend and indifference by another to a friend’s recent art purchase rapidly turns into an examination of self, self-worth, the meaning of friendship and what binds people together.

ART, a 1994 play written by Yasmina Reza, translated by Christopher Hampton and in this Australian production directed by Lee Lewis, starts off quite simply. We are in Paris. Serge (Damon Herriman) has just acquired a new piece of art. A 5ft by 4ft painting that is white. White background, white lines. The artist is Antrios, who also has three pieces at the Pompidou. 

Marc (Richard Roxburgh) is initially blase to his friend’s purchase, until he hears the purchase price. €160,000 (Which is about $260,000 AUD as at March 2026). “But it’s shit” Marc rapidly explodes, with incredulous disbelief. Yvan (Toby Schmitz) has his own issues to deal with, as he is about to be married, and is simply agreeable and nonchalant when talking to both friends individually.

The tensions escalate between Serge and Marc, even with Marc’s best attempts to calm himself down and not be so judgemental, but when Yvan is 45 minutes late for a planned night out amongst the three friends is when everything comes to a head.

The complexity of male friendship isn’t something often examined, but you could fill a hundred pages of plays, movies and musicals about female friendship. Which is one of the reasons ART leaves you simultaneously side-sore from laughing and in deep psychological contemplation.

Seeing three middle aged men grapple with the stark realisation that a 20 year friendship may be ending, and then wondering why they were ever friends in the first place, certainly makes you ponder relationships in general. If we are who we are because of who we think our friends think we are, who are we really?

“People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime” is the start of a poem by Brian A. “Drew” Chalker and for me, that is what ART is about. 

With Marc finally admitting his real reasons for his absolute abhorrence of the painting and his spiralling anger, with Serge coming clean on his true feelings for Marc’s partner and with Yvan literally taking blows from both of them – they (and the audience) are left asking…why are we still friends. Truth’s are realised, enabled by the art of the lie.

Roxburgh remains a true master of the acting art form, rocketing between red-faced anger and quiet contemplation with absolute ease, and impeccable timing. And I swear, he says a key plot point word at one stage with totally the accent from the Duke in Moulin Rouge.

Herriman plays the pompous and somewhat elitist Serge with an undercurrent of snobbish glee, trying to remain calm in the face of the insanity surrounding him. He successfully walks the line between defending his decisions and pretending not to care what his friends think about his decisions. 

Schmitz as the neurotic but very likeable Yvan puts on a masterclass in understated dramatic comedic acting. With a slouch, a shrug and a scene-stealing monologue about step-mothers and mothers’ names on a wedding invitation, Schmitz provides the humanity anchor of the show. Without him, you could very easily get annoyed at the asshole behaviour of his two friends.

The set and costume design from Charles Davis is simple, classic, but purposeful, and lets the actors breathe and fill the stage, whilst subtly letting you know who they are and where you are. A couple of sliding walls and moving chairs is all that is needed for this character-driven piece. The lighting design from Paul Jackson punctuates the key points in the play, with some gorgeous moments of change.

ART successfully layers razor-sharp wit with thought-provoking introspection. With its brutally honest examination of friendship, interwoven by sheer comedic genius (who knew watching three grown men eat olives could be so hysterical) brought to life by three insanely talented actors – its 90 minutes extremely well spent.