4 out of 5

Written by: Pip Karmel

Brutal.

Ensemble dramas have followed Dalliance’s formula a’plenty: the single act that has a ripple effect upon a group of friends. Heather Mitchell plays Dani, one of the key roles in such a setup: the stranger who is – innocently or otherwise – the source of the ripples. However, where this formula is often exploited for twists and turns, or giant bombs of soap opera, Dalliance, as written by Pip Karmel, goes a much more effective route: it plays things fairly straight. While I won’t deny the fun of a good soap, when it comes to writing that really stings, it seems that the closer you play it to real life, the more real that sting can be, and the harder the material can hit. Dalliance still has to succumb to the TV-ism of giving everyone in this play a Thing – a subplot – which results in some underbaked elements, but on the whole, man, the relationships in this are just brutal.

But don’t worry: it’s also pretty funny, and charming. (If only to make it hurt more when you’re disarmed by its “that’s how I’ve felt” close-to-home moments.) And then don’t worry pt. 2: it’s also not torturous, or sad-porn. There’s a point to this, in making us examine the small-ish moments suggested by its title, and what we do or don’t make of them (or decide to make of them): life really isn’t up to you, true, but maybe your next step is.

Billy Brennan (Hugo Weaving) meets Dani on a boat, while he’s escaping from a fight with his brother, Gary (David Wenham). Dani’s the onboard chef; she and he banter cutely while he barters for a hiding spot from Gary. It’s a cute flirtation that Dani wryly shuts down, but we’ve seen all this before – we know, surely, these two will get together. And yeah, that can happen in real life, but just as often, these are the moments that don’t turn into anything at all. Or, in Dalliance, they take two steps towards that thing you’re expecting, and then it isn’t that thing you’re expecting at all and you get to decide to go with it or not: when it turns out that Billy’s friendliness in thanks for the hiding spot is just… Billy being really friendly. When he brokers a ride home from Dani, it really is just a ride home to meet his wife, Rose (Georgie Parker), and when our TV drama alarms go off and think that Rose and Billy are probably angling for some small-town sexy shenanigans (maybe it’s an open marriage; Dani will surely make their otherwise perfect marriage go awry by being their third!), but Billy is just sleepy, Rose is just equally charming, and she and Dani just legitimately get along.

…This opens up an opportunity for Rose, though, to take a step: she has a dinner party to go to, and she needs a plus one, and Billy is surely an impressive man to have at your side. It’s a weird request, but it seems sincere, and Rose agrees. And it’s really not what you think – or rather, it really is as straightforward as Dani explains it to be – but nonetheless, here is our ripple. Because a tragedy occurs that night, and now this stranger, Dani, has to be the witness to the tragedy, suddenly thrust into the center of a ring of Billy’s and Rose’s friends and family, explaining and rexplaining what happened.

Dalliance is scored whimsically, and shot, by Emma Jackson and Matthew Saville with a casual observer’s eye, in the room but off to the side, witnessing. It’s very natural. That helps make all the many smartly scripted (and sharply acted) interactions we see feel organic, which they mostly are – except for some aforementioned TV machinations such that person A’s story must cross over with person B. Nonetheless, we get to examine relationships and their growth and dissolution from all stages and sides, with a level of no-turning-back honesty that, man, we could all do with on occasion. The structure kicks off each episode with more and more footage of the night of the tragedy; there are some things to uncover there, which other dramas would structure as those twists, but writer Pip Karmel digs deeper, to treat the reveals as thematically relevant outlines for the other interactions we then flash back forward to witness.

When the final lines hit, though, to put a point on all we’ve seen, it’s brutal. And I loved it.