Written by Steven Moffat. Sydney Theatre Company. Roslyn Packer Theatre. 29 Sep – 31 Oct, 2026.
Helen Thomson kills it as Elsa Jean Krakowski, the houseguest who puts the cereal into serial killer, in Steven Moffat’s The Unfriend. Who hasn’t thought the world would be a better place without certain people in it? I’ll be the first to say it: #ElsaWasRight.
Elsa (Thomson), a chance acquaintance made on holiday, descends on the home of the Lindells, a polite English couple: Peter (Tim Walter) and Debbie (Alex Lee). As they scramble to do their belated due diligence, they discover that Elsa isn’t just a pushy American widow with an oversized appreciation for leopard-print velour. According to the internet, she’s also a murderer. Can the meek, ineffectual Brits get this dangerous Yank out of their home and away from their kids before she strikes again? And why does Elsa seem to be making their lives… well… actually better? Whatever the reason, they need to get rid of her before their stiff upper lips become a case of rigour mortis!
Steven Moffat’s name may conjure the brain-twisting hits he’s written, like Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock and Doctor Who. Those with longer memories will remember him as the writer of the sitcom Coupling and the recent comedy-drama miniseries Douglas Is Cancelled, and it’s that Moffat you get here. His sharp sitcom credentials are evident in a witty script full of fresh bons mots you’ll want to quote at your next party.
The script borrows the conventions of sitcoms and drawing-room farce to build the perfect trap for Brits who will literally do anything to avoid embarrassment or offence. It all culminates in an extended sequence of literal toilet humour that will have the audience howling with laughter and/or pain.
Beneath the gags is a self-effacing disdain for the middle classes. Moffat pokes fun at a society that is smiling and genteel in person but cold and judgemental behind closed doors, where lying comes easily and genuine emotion is hard. As their unnamed, repeatedly forgotten neighbour (Huw Higginson) demonstrates, the Lindells may think of themselves as good people with a good life, but their condescension toward the people around them is barely masked by their manners. Into this steps Elsa, a wicked Mary Poppins who has less pretence, and fewer morals, but may actually prove to be just what they need. It’s a perverted version of American optimism vs dour British convention.
Tim Walter is Thomson’s awkward, cringing equal in the comedy stakes as Peter. It’s a genuine pleasure watching Elsa make him squirm and dodge all his attempts to take control. Not all the other characters fare as well, with one quickly escalating to “stressed and manic” so early that it had nowhere to go for the next two hours making for a boring, one-note performance. I was praying Elsa’s murderous instincts might kick in. Mine certainly did.
The pacing is also hampered by an interval that could easily be removed, and by long blackouts between scenes that make for awkward pauses. With some judicious trimming, you could unearth a swift 90-minute crowd-pleaser hiding inside this two-hour running time.
Those drawn to the theatre by Thomson and Moffat’s sitcom credentials won’t be disappointed by this admittedly light fare. The dialogue is nuanced in the best traditions of British comedy, and Thomson is an easy delight to watch. Hopefully The Unfriend isn’t Moffat’s last venture onto the stage.
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