Eight Gigabytes of Hardcore Pornography

Griffin Theatre's latest offering Eight Gigabytes of Hardcore Pornography in association with Perth Theatre Company is a an interesting but underwhelming production. What was no doubt highly anticipated due to its titillating title (particularly evident by its sold-out houses even on a Monday night) had really little to do with that subject matter and more to do with a banal study of two banal individuals', boring and ultimately empty lives.

Playwright Declan Greene had an opportunity to venture down a path that has really yet to be examined in theatre, which is; what impact has technology had on the way that human beings communicate, relate to each other, forge relationships and find love. The introduction of instruments like FaceTime and Skype means that technology is allowing us to connect without really "connecting" and that is an interesting avenue up for exploration indeed.

The play did start to travel in this direction. However, very early on it took a u-turn and retreated down the well-worn path of what I like to term "desperation porn" meaning looking at the sad little lives of others with the view of perhaps recognising some of that within ourselves, but overall being really relieved that these characters are pretty much nothing like us at all.

Aside from the script the rest of the production can't really be faulted as the two actors, Steve Rodgers and Andrea Gibbs are both superb, as is Lee Lewis' direction. The other aspects of Eight Gigabytes of Hardcore Pornography such as Marg Horwell's set and Matthew Marshall's lighting simply define reality from fantasy. Rachael Dease's compositions also create interesting punctuation points to the drama.

But ultimately it is Declan Greene's script which really fails to deliver. Brevity is always important and at a running time of 70 minutes this script certainly supports that notion. But unfortunately in its quest for economy, a true depth of story is lost. It's a bit like going to a restaurant ordering three courses, receiving the entree and then being told the place is going to close before you get your full meal. It all feels a little unfinished and ultimately superfluous.

However, a note to producers out there, if you want to guarantee a sold out season make sure your production has the term "porn" in the title, there's nothing like a bit of shockvertising to get bums on seats.