Eureka Day
- Chris O'Rourke
- 2 minutes ago
- 3 min read

Philippa Dunne, Ayesha Antoine, Stephen Brennan, Kae Alexander and Rowan Finken in Eureka Day. Photograph: Helen Murray
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To paraphrase Abraham Lincoln, you can please some of the people some of the time, all of the people some of the time, but never all of the people all of the time. Not that the board of California’s Eureka Day Private School don’t try. Woke inclusivity, cultural sensitivity, social justice and a host of appropriate hashtags you never even knew about are all brought to bear on every decision. Absolute consensus required by the board for any ruling to be passed. Jonathan Spector’s absurdist comedy, Eureka Day, beginning as an interrogation of woke culture and our hypocritical human failings. Before taking a handbrake turn into lightweight comic drama. Becoming, instead, a debate between pro and anti-vaxers when a child is placed in a medically induced coma following an outbreak of mumps. Forcing the board to convene an emergency meeting to determine what best to do for their young students, not all of whom are vaccinated. Trying to achieve a consensus in a way that honours, respects and validates all opinions, each vying to be accepted as objective truth. A goal about as realistic as determining the weight of the colour seven.

Ayesha Antoine, Rowan Finken and Philippa Dunne in Eureka Day. Image, Helen Murray
Set in an Elementary School library, Loren Elstein’s elegant design, superbly lit by Sinéad McKenna, reminds us that these are adults in name only. Oversized children running around in Joan O’Cleary’s grown up clothes, arguing every social and cultural toss. Rowan Finken’s adulterous Eli, Kae Alexander’s knitting knot Keiko, Philippa Dunne’s upright Suzanne, and Stephen Brennan’s boring board director, Don, debating a drop down computer menu as if life depended on it. The arrival of Ayesha Antoine’s rational, self-righteous Carina introducing stolid, no nonsense judgements into their scone loving ruminations. Setting up a decisive battle with anti-vaxer Suzanne, consumed by a pained past poignantly informing her persistent present.

Philippa Dunne, Ayesha Antoine, Stephen Brennan, Kae Alexander and Rowan Finken in Eureka Day. Photograph: Helen Murray
Under Roy Alexander Weise’s evenly paced direction, Spector’s comedy is played for laughs without getting dumbed down. The opening scene, suggesting God’s policy writers dictating life’s terms and conditions, surpassed in humour only by a community Zoom call whose hilarity lies in its embarrassing insights. Michael Dunne’s AV design, evoking social media interactions, a stroke of comic genius. If the shift from broad comedy to pressing drama is managed well, it’s not quite as perfect. Performances, whilst strong, often highlight a singular tone at the expense of deeper, subtextual range. Kae Alexander one of two exceptions, portraying Keiko’s interior struggles with crafted nuance. Then there’s Philippa Dunne’s staggeringly brilliant Suzanne. Declining simplistic generalisation, Dunne absorbs you so completely into the uniqueness of Suzanne’s inner world you understand, empathise, laugh and pity even if you vehemently disagree. Quivering lips, darting glances, and wringing hands articulating Suzanne’s humble arrogance and calm, defiant apologies. Dunne explicating everything and its opposite, leaving you mesmerised. Eva Hein West, as the board’s latest acolyte, rounding out a terrific cast in the play’s final, Covid predictive scene. Serving up one last joke for the road.

Philippa Dunne in Eureka Day. Image, Helen Murray
An international success, Eureka Day is a play for today, being a smartly observed comedy with an on-point political message. A living testament to that old chestnut of theatre holding a mirror up to society. Reflecting us back to ourselves so we can learn, and learn to laugh at the failings of others. Eureka Day proving a laugh out loud delight, featuring top drawer performances, and a masterclass from Philippa Dunne.
Eureka Day by Jonathan Spector, runs at The Gate Theatre until March 7.
For more information visit The Gate Theatre



















