By Carmel Shortall
Sinead and Aisling are sisters and, it appears, on the lookout for men. Sinead is trying to discourage Aisling from following up a late night last minute date through a dating website but Aisling makes a break for it and jumps in a taxi. In sisterly manner, Sinead follows, as you do! When she arrives, she bumps into, and takes a shine to, a man who turns out to be Aisling’s date for the evening, Aimes.
It appears that Aisling has hopeless form with men. “You keep meeting these types!” complains Sinead. But as Sinead tries to put Aisling off, it becomes apparent that she has a thing for Aimes herself – and she has previous form for stealing her sister’s boyfriends. But in the meantime, she is trying to get to know Oskar the artist better. Unfortunately Oskar has had a circumcision as part of his PhD art installation and is too sore for sex.
What starts as a fairly naturalistic comedy swiftly becomes more and more surreal. How To Make Money from Art follows line-dancing Flamenco teacher, Aisling, as she tries to launch herself as an artist (she makes installations out of donkey piñatas). Then Sinead’s job in Westminster turns out to involve working for MI5 – on an investigation of Aimes’ activities! Will the right couples end up with each other? And, in the meantime, what are they doing in Kazakhstan? In IKEA?
Playwrights Caroline Byrne and Cathy Rosario deliver the goods with snappy dialogue and memorable one-liners and some comic gems. The world of Art comes in for some stick – Oskar’s next installation will involve him playing the role of Odysseus with his head in a fish tank.
Fiona Cuskell conveys vulnerability as Aisling while Orla Sanders as Sinead becomes increasingly demented as she pursues faintly dodgy Aimes’, played by Anthony Cozens. Acting honours go to Ben Lydon as Oskar though – caring, decent and completely oblivious to his own ridiculousness.
The pace is frenetic: nifty scene changes keep things rolling so that the play whizzes by.