Sometimes the simplest theatrical setups can produce some of the most relatable stories.
Uncorked introduces us to Kate and Nadia, best friends since primary school who have maintained one sacred tradition as they’ve grown up: their monthly evening of cheap wine and bad television.
It began when they were teenagers and has survived into their twenties.
But this particular Friday night is going to be rather different.
As the pair find themselves increasingly out of sync with where they expected their lives to be, their familiar ritual becomes the setting for a much bigger conversation. Kate is frightened of moving forward, while Nadia is frightened of being left behind.
Add fertility, three potential fathers and a ticking clock into the equation and suddenly cheap wine and bad TV isn’t quite going to cut it.
One of my first thoughts after watching Uncorked was that the play seemed relatively short.
Then I wondered whether it actually was particularly short, or whether I’d simply become engrossed in the story and lost track of time.
I’m going with the latter.
And that’s a pretty good sign.
At the centre of Uncorked are Kate and Nadia, and the success of the production really depends upon whether we believe these two people have been friends for years.
Thankfully, I did.
Both characters are relatable and down to earth. Their friendship doesn’t feel as though it exists simply because the script tells us they’re best friends; you can see it in the way they speak to one another and in the changing dynamics of their conversations.
There is familiarity there.
The sort of familiarity that comes from knowing somebody for years – when you know how they’ll react, what will annoy them and probably exactly which button to press when you want to wind them up.
The dialogue between the two performers is very good, helped considerably by a well-written script.
And that’s particularly important in a production like this.
There aren’t enormous sets or theatrical tricks constantly competing for your attention. Uncorked relies heavily on its characters, dialogue and the relationship between them.
The staging itself is relatively simple, but it works perfectly well within the context of the show.
Sometimes you don’t need to fill a Fringe stage with scenery.
Give me believable characters, a decent script and performers who can bring them to life and I’m quite happy.
There are moments of genuine poignancy throughout Uncorked, but importantly the production doesn’t become relentlessly serious.
There’s humour too.
That balance works because real friendships aren’t one emotion. You can be laughing with somebody one minute and arguing with them the next. You can love someone enormously while simultaneously wanting to tell them exactly what you think of their latest life decision.
Uncorked understands that.
There are moments of joy and moments of anger, alongside the underlying uncertainty both women are experiencing about where their lives are heading.
And beneath the immediate story are some very relatable questions about adulthood.
What happens when you reach an age where you assumed you’d have everything figured out, only to discover that you absolutely haven’t?
What happens when the person who has always been beside you suddenly seems to be moving through life at a different speed?
And can a friendship survive when two people who once seemed to be travelling along the same road begin heading in different directions?
That’s where I think Uncorked is at its strongest.
Yes, fertility and relationships are important parts of the story, but underneath them is something broader about friendship and the uncomfortable experience of watching the people around you move into different stages of their lives.
It’s something many audience members will recognise.
I certainly felt connected to Kate and Nadia, and judging by the reaction in the room, the audience around me did too.
By the end, I didn’t feel as though I’d simply watched two actors playing best friends.
I felt as though I’d been allowed to sit in on one particular Friday night between two people who have accumulated years of shared history – and discovered that this time, the cheap wine and bad television might not be enough to avoid the conversations they’ve been putting off.
Uncorked is a well-written and thoughtful production, brought to life by two very good performances and a friendship that feels genuine.
Funny when it needs to be, poignant when it matters and relatable throughout.
And if a play can make me completely lose track of its running time, it’s clearly doing something right.
★★★★ 4 Stars
Funny, poignant and beautifully relatable – a friendship that feels completely real
https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/uncorked
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