“We’re backstage and the audience has gone.” These words are not the refrain of an actor retiring the stage and venturing behind the scenes, but of a teacher taking refuge in the staff room after a week of hard graft in the classroom. Charlotte Cromie’s new comic drama, Professional, converts the Corpus Playroom rather convincingly into said staff room and explores the boundaries of professionalism, playing to teacher stereotypes in almost farcical fashion as the ceremonies of the school day are shed.

But the piece is a more believable species of farce. It is half past five on a Friday night and the school’s electronic door-locking system has shut down for the weekend, with four teachers still in the staff room. The plot descends into the throes of chaos and it is certainly a case of teachers behaving badly as grievances and sexual tensions seep through the games of power play that ensue, but the staff are all kept in check by their mutual fear of eschewing the boundaries of professionalism that little bit too far, endangering their careers.

The play lays claim to the most performative aspects of professionalism and is conspicuous in its metatheatricality. Deputy Head, Hattie (Grainne Dromgoole) even refers to professing as "100% theatre" — and she's not at all wrong. The play apprehends familiar quandaries faced by teachers and questions where the borders lie when it comes to student-teacher relationships. But these claims are all too familiar.

In its exploration of student-teacher boundaries, the writing is, at times, perhaps too allusive, perhaps borrowing rather too heavy handedly from Bennett’s The History Boys. At one particular moment in the play, Mel (Fran Davis) launches into anecdote about a conversation she overhears her young students having about the development of the female body, reluctantly restraining herself from intervening in the conversation on the grounds that she must uphold a detached professionalism in her role as teacher. And it is as if her words have come directly from the mouth of Bennett’s Mrs. Lintott, who reminds one of her colleagues that “one of the hardest things for a teacher to learn” is not to try and tell their students that they, too, are human.

The play continues in a similar vein, with new teacher Don’s (Ed Paget) recollection of a difficult student during a teacher training placement, and as he exclaims “what would she do if a teacher stopped being a teacher and broke down into tears?” it is hard not to imagine Hector with his head on the desk, crying in exasperation. While these references do articulate the sentiment that I think Cromie wishes to convey about the difficulties faced by teachers, they would benefit from a little more refinement and subtlety. 

"Although the play is a short affair, it packs a lot into its rather brief run-time"

Direction is also, on occasion, somewhat forced and could do with a touch more delicacy. Upon her dawning realisation that she is stuck in the school for the weekend as the electronic door system shuts down, Mel lets down her hair into a mess of cascading curls as if the shaking loose of a ponytail signalled both the artifice and collapse of workplace pretence. 

However, generally, all four members of the cast boast a natural physicality and Cromie’s decision to keep the piece to a succinct 40 minutes is astute. Although the play is a short affair, it packs a lot into its rather brief run-time and the Corpus Playroom is the perfect venue for it. Cromie's script is cogent, pithy and incisive and subject matters aren’t drawn out to the point of exhaustion, avoiding the familiar propensity of farce to over-stretch its premise, allowing it to trudge on well after laughter has ceased. Instead, the script achieves some big laughs from the audience. 

Twisted humour: the Palindrome boys are back (to front) again!

The moments of physical humour in the play are decidedly funny and the writing plays to different teacher stereotypes triumphantly, maintaining its humour even as it veers into the taboo. Eduardo Strike as jaded departing English teacher, Robin, is easily the stand-out and performs his role with an expressive vitality and nuanced comic timing, dealing well with moments of sexual tension with Davis. Dromgoole, too, is a natural performer and instills a humanity into her role as Deputy Head, and Paget is efficacious as inoffensive young teacher Don, handling the more bathetic lines of the script effectively.

All in all, Professional is an exciting and well-rehearsed piece of new writing that boasts an impressive cast, but could do with a little more polish before it is taken to the Fringe this summer