Deception makes reality relative to perception.

Communications with strangers, those we are close to and even ourselves cannot always be trusted. Deceits reveal themselves in ugly but entertaining ways in Ellandar Productions’ A Night of Deceit, directed by Ellen O’Connor and Iskandar Sharazuddin.

Five shorts set in the 1940s are introduced through cabaret and woven together by a beguiling omniscient emcee played by Bonnie Coyle. She sits in, judges, smirks and shares her own experiences with us. Her engagement with the audience and rendition of ‘is that all there is’ is exemplary in its depth and humor.

Our first short, William Albridge, pulls us into an interrogation chamber at Scotland Yard where two jive-talking conmen attempt to outsmart each other. Asides give glimpses into the motives of the two and this fast dialogue driven scene is very funny and clever, saving the reveal of a neat little deception on the audience until the end.

Our guide then takes us into the home of a mafia couple in New York for Thieves and Foxes. Pony ‘the brawn’ thinks he is deceiving Kat ‘the brains’, however she is not letting on all that she knows. While the accents could be a little abrasive, the drama is well executed and juxtaposes nicely with its predecessor.

Next up is an absurd comedy Gravy Train that could almost be set in present day Perth. When a businessman defends an oddball at the train station from a working class Australian, an energetic argument about class and motives breaks out. The businessman’s reception of the alien, played by Kym Bidstrup, when the worker is not there proves some criticism is warranted. Three skilled comedians invite us to examine the ways we deceive ourselves and strangers.

Conscience is the story of a London prostitute, the policeman who murders her and his scapegoat. Timothy How is notable as the policeman who swings from cocky interrogator to man obsessed, to a weak man fighting conscience while praying for forgiveness.

Our emcee gets us in the mood for the more upbeat vignette Erectile Dysfunction with some word repetition. As the sound of music from an adjacent space occasional filtered into the hall I wonder if the audience’s cries of “penis” were overheard. In this final short we enter the office of an eccentric sex therapist, characterized by Nick Pages-Oliver. A game of word association with a sexually frustrated housewife backfires and with the arrival of a surprise guest, the patient is forced to confront her taboos and become the therapist’s therapist. The euphemism-filled script and the melodramatic daytime-serial feel towards the end enable the play to tackle awkward topics in a very hilarious way.

Despite being tightly packed into the warm Treasury Mess Hall, the audience seemed impressed with the excellent cast and production.