Office Party

First Published 14 October 2011, Last Updated 14 October 2011

I headed through the packed crowd to the bar with some trepidation and, I admit, a slight desperation for booze. Here I was, at the annual Christmas party, having heard rumours of unusual games and nakedness. Even worse, I’d suddenly realised I worked in marketing. 

My friend by my side, I was ushered through to the main hall where Trina, the overenthusiastic American who, as Head of Marketing, is unfortunately my boss, got us blowing up balloons and ‘whooping’ as only she can. Soon the rest of my colleagues arrived, Johnny hit the decks and Mr Rycroft kicked off the party with the sort of cringeworthy speech that the skinflint CEO of a soulless, middle-of-the-road private sector company (here called Product Solutions) is wont to make.

This wasn’t actually my office’s Christmas party. Neither was it the office party of my psychologist friend, to whom such naff corporate affairs are alien (frankly, we both think she’s missed out). But it could have been. Like stepping into some other-world that seems strangely familiar, the ‘interactive experience’ – I can’t call it theatre – that has been created by cabaret stars Ursula Martinez and Christopher Green and director/co-writer Cal McCrystal will be identifiable to many: whether it’s dancing to bad wedding music with half-cut colleagues, being ‘encouraged’ into playing party games, or watching your boss give drunken hugs to anyone who makes the mistake of standing too close.

There are unfamiliar moments, too. I’ve never been to an office party where the entertainment gets naked live on stage; but it probably happens. Other surprises I won’t spoil crop up in this fake but familiar festivity, creating an overblown, slightly surreal version of the work party we’ve all been to or heard about. The other party guests actually begin to feel like my colleagues, Trina’s group-hug style of management becomes worryingly identifiable, and when a friend tells a fake colleague in the fake accounts department that his mate fancies her, my immersion in this David Brent-style corporate bonding event is complete. 

Office Party works best if the partygoers embrace it in this fashion. It’s not for everyone, but even those standing awkwardly on the sidelines, clutching their pints and fending off attempts to make them participate, add a certain realism to proceedings.

The irony is that this would be a great event for an office Christmas party. In fact my head hurts a little bit to think about it; which is, after all, appropriate for the morning after the night before. Bet Rycroft’s regretting that last glass of bubbly now. 

CB

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