The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4

Fionn Foley, Emma Dargan-Reid and Caoimhe O'Malley in The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4. Image, Rich Davenport. *** They say the greatest trick the devil ever played was making you believe he doesn’t exist. The greatest con corporate culture ever pulled was tricking its staff into believing they mattered. Values like inclusivity, wellness and social responsibility demanding a personal buy in for the greatest good. Values, like staff, made redundant once the good times are deemed to be over. Perhaps all you can do is laugh. Caitríona Daly’s office farce The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4 certainly tries to. Maniacal employees trying to figure out how to spend a surplus Social Responsibility Budget during their lunch hour making some big comedic promises. Yet, like its corporate inspiration, Daly’s slice of office life doesn’t deliver when it really matters. The whole redeemed by some fine direction and a superlative cast.  Emma Dargan-Reid and Helen Norton in The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4. Image, Rich Davenport. The problem lies with Daly’s weak and contrived script. Like the elderly uncle who reminisces about all the dull things he got up to that would make for a bestseller, scenarios prove far less entertaining than they might think they are. Situationally, there’s precious little meat on Daly’s comic bones as an elongated argument behind a locked conference room door leaves a HR exec trying to break in. A one trick pony never properly exploited, varied or resolved. Comedically there’s little set up and even less sense of timing, with staged arguments looking like punchlines in search of a joke. Dialogue flatlining between comedic outbursts that appear like unsuspected eruptions from a generally inactive geezer, its mostly underground rumblings subsiding into silence. Having reached a turning point and asking what’s really going on, the script reveals it has no idea and bails without a parachute. Free falling into a lengthy, clichéd monologue about pregnancy in the workplace and hoping you won’t notice. Before crash landing into a musical song and dance routine to finish with a meta-theatrical cop out. Which, ironically, proves to be the best thing about The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4. Caoimhe O'Malley in The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4. Image, Rich Davenport. Yet laughter arrives on account of director Raymond Keane. Keane squeezing every ounce of engagement from Daly’s forced and often juvenile script by mashing it into pulp to squeeze out more; injecting physical finesse into its middle management fiasco without tipping over into pantomime extravaganza. Loading the physical comedy dice given there’s too little of textual wit worth betting on. Useful when seriousness gets injected like an annoying volunteer lecturing you on saving the volunteers. The separation of seriousness and comedy frequently reinforced by Dara Hoban’s self conscious light changes. Ronán Duffy’s smarter than it seems set, and Saileóg O’Halloran’s stereotypical costumes doing what’s needed. Fionn Foley and Caoimhe O'Malley in The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4. Image, Rich Davenport. Casting wisely, Keane further conceals a multitude of sins. Like a modern day Donald O'Connor, Fionn Foley effortlessly sings, acts and dances his way into your affections whilst cornering the market in tetchy beta males with inflated egos. Foley’s uber Dad Daniel, a GAA outcast with a penchant for Offaly, sees Foley flamboyantly on fire. Igniting a chemical blaze with a superb Caoimhe O’Malley as the corporate bitch queen Clodagh, who sold her soul for an executive assistant position and a tongue sharper than her cheekbones. The underused Emma Dargan-Reid as Phd receptionist, Jess, essentially straight person to Foley and O’Malley, shines terrifically when given the chance. As does Helen Norton as Lady Susan, a HR exec resembling a yellow pack, Dame Edna Everage. Each best when playing the skit rather than the play, given the skit usually has more of substance. But not by much. Caoimhe O'Malley, Emma Dargan-Reid and Fionn Foley in The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4. Image, Rich Davenport. From The Fall And Rise Of Reginald Perrin to both versions of The Office , corporate office culture has provided much comic fodder. The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4 falls considerably short by comparison. Had it been brave enough to follow its The Naked Gun meta inclinations, revealed momentarily at the end, it might have succeeded better. As it stands, it risks being another day at the office when you’d rather be working from home. Offering intermittent relief in moments of hilarity. The Lunch Punch Power Hour in Conference Room 4 by Caitríona Daly runs at The Peacock Stage of the Abbey Theatre until September 6. For more information visit The Abbey Theatre