Everyone has their own ideas of what office politics looks like: someone microwaving fish, stealing your milk, or the scandalous office romance; but Aila Macnaughtan-Clark and Liv Jeffrey’s Muffins takes this to a new level in the absurd tale of how a half-eaten muffin unravelled a baker’s dozen of secrets.
Most people can say they have a colleague with an annoying habit that no one else seems bothered by, but few can say that they would plant a note saying “I know your secret” on them, hoping it will intimidate them into stopping. Elaine (Hope Briggs), however, certainly can.
Every day Elaine sees her desk neighbour Sarah (Mabel Dalgleish-King) eat half a breakfast muffin and throw it in the bin, before Mike (Ben Hebron) chivalrously offers to take the bins out, stepping out of the office to eat the remaining muffin. Elaine has had just about enough of this and decides to plant a note in the muffin, informing Mike that his daily bin rummage does not go unnoticed. But when the office dictator and Mike’s not-so-secret admirer Jill (Shona Wilby) also discovers a note saying “I know your secret”, lines are crossed and we are left unsure who is really pulling the strings.
The show’s opening sets the tone wonderfully for what we are about to experience: high energy music scores the characters entering, striking over-the-top poses on beat and moving in complete synchronicity before taking their seats in their drab, white office. The storyline alternates between the present day and a fateful Christmas party the year before where various scandals, including but not limited to Sarah and Jordan (Larkin Armstrong) sneaking off to the gender-neutral toilets together, are revealed over the course of the show.
Muffins is playfully self-referential, with characters popping up with signs saying “30 seconds earlier” and making direct references to flashbacks, all of which contribute to its silly charm. There are several running jokes throughout, including allusions to supposedly sordid goings-on in the gender neutral toilets. At first we are led to believe Sarah and Jordan are having sex in there, but we eventually find out Sarah uses them as a studio to create content for her OnlyFans, which Jordan manages. Both Larkin Armstrong and Mabel Dalgleish-King play the juxtaposition between their lovability and their illicit affairs perfectly.
Sam Radford’s Derek turns out to be a student running a social experiment, and despite technically being an outsider, his laboured reading of a note saying “I knead ur seat milk” makes him fit into the absurdity of the office staff perfectly.
Another running joke is the apparent lack of diversity in the office, with the characters all being cisgender and heterosexual — to the point where Derek pretends to be dyslexic to boost diversity. This setup is wonderfully paid off when Mike and Greg (Bill Burrows) confess their love for each other, and Jordan announces — to rapturous applause from the audience — that he is in a polycule. Characteristically, Jill’s main takeaway from this is that the office finally meets more DEI requirements.
The revelation of Mike and Greg’s love works especially well as Ben Hebron’s characterisation had been direct and no-nonsense until that point, so seeing him melt for Bill Burrow’s hilariously bubbly Greg is a fantastic payoff. Additionally, Shona Wilby’s performance of the slightly pathetic office bad-cop Jill made for a great antagonist for some of the other characters, and her total commitment to the physicality and voice kept so much energy in the piece throughout. You never had to wait long for a laugh in this show: the comedy was brilliantly relentless and the performers played to each other’s strengths to create a cast of loveable idiots.
Perhaps the most outstanding aspect of Muffins is the coherence between the show’s writing, acting, and design. The set consists of a plain white backdrop with simple, drawn-on windows and five office desks; when the actors burst onto stage — each with their own distinctive colour like a cast of corporate Cluedo characters – they immediately pop, establishing the motif of colourful, eccentric people in an otherwise boring setting.
The lighting is also essential to dictating the atmosphere of the piece: in the present day, a clinical, white fluorescent light shines top down on the set. While the Christmas party lighting – green and red and with a dimmer intensity – draws a clean line between the past and present.
But what made Muffins so memorable is ultimately how brilliantly unique the characters are, each one playing into a different corporate stereotype. There is very little overlap between the traits of these characters. They are so well thought-out that it feels like, after only knowing them for an hour, I could put them in any situation and know how each one would behave: a true mark of successful world-building from writer and co-director Aila Macnaughtan-Clark.
This show didn’t leave me with a moment to breathe. It was funny throughout its duration and was very ensemble focused. Each character got their own-set piece and great lines with no clear star or main character. That being said, the standout performance of the night for me was Hope Briggs. She opened the show with a monologue, introducing us to the world of the play and I immediately knew we were in safe hands. Her character felt like a tether for the audience, often delivering dry remarks that expressed what we were thinking at the time and her bickering with Jill was delivered with just enough bile that it was hysterical and completely believable.
Overall, UMDS‘ Muffins was a comic success. Every aspect of it, from the world building, characters, performances, design, and technical elements served the wacky world that we were introduced to, and it never took itself too seriously either, making for a thoroughly enjoyable viewing experience from start to finish. I am uncertain as to whether there are plans to give this show a further life, but I selfishly hope it does return, just so I can see it again.
