(seen at the afternoon performance on 11th December 2022)
Terry Johnson takes a nervous group of Islingtonians who met mostly online and tracks them through one evening in which they meet for a little uninhibited fun. Transexual Lucy arrives, and suddenly liberal attitudes are questioned.
For a few glorious minutes in the second act the monkey thought this play was (no pun intended) coming together in a clever discussion of just how open-minded people really are about sexuality. Where are the lines drawn in a world which has us believe we are all merged into one inclusive mass – or should be so unless wishing to be howled down by a mob on social media?
There is an outstanding work to be written on the subject and this is not it. The author directs the first half at glacial pace instead of farcical speed needed to deliver airless lines about how inhibited the “first timers” feel yet how excited (they don’t really sound it).
We learn little about any of the characters beyond that. All are easy stereotypes – the marrieds with her previously knowing the host but going nowhere, the outlandish foreigners, the frustrated sexpot with feelings, the stoner. Interchangeable and not saying anything very interesting, though fortunately doing anything happens mercifully off-stage bar a little underwear modelling.
That the second half is mostly long discussions in the kitchen is no surprise, as Johnson gives his free-thinkers very little imagination. When battlelines are drawn about whether a transgender person is welcome at the orgy and prejudices are revealed, there is suddenly proper grown-up debate - but it peters out all too soon.
Worse, a coda set a few months later is a genuinely nasty piece of moralising dressed up as some sort of comedic moment, lengthening the play even as it launches a final torpedo through it.
Tim Shortall’s set is so good you will want to live in it, and Ben Ormerod knows what evening light in a domestic home should be like, John Leonard getting the slightly echoey sound of a large home equally perfect.
The cast do their best as well. Pooya Mohseni’s key second act work as Lucy is measured and credible in its resignation to everyday discrimination.
As Hetty, Molly Osborne gets the best of the early scenes. We warm to her seemingly flirty and open nature, making later scenes more shocking. Partner Alex (Jason Merrells) is a cypher by comparison, Merrells struggling to connect with her due to the lines he is given.
The undercurrent between himself and married former flame Gilly (Lisa Dwan) is a relief to them both, allowing him to do more than offer drinks and her more than sighing over her inhibitions or later declaring constantly her openness to exploration.
Amanda Ryan as frustrated Russian Magdalena and her American blusterer Jeff (Timothy Hutton) both try hard with their own cartooning, Hutton leaping on his only solid lines in the trans debate with notable enthusiasm.
Relegated to the sidelines and under-used, John Hopkins as Gilly’s partner Jake and Kelly Price as Camilla get little opportunity to contribute. Price fares better than her partner Tim, with Will Barton probably wishing his drug usage could allow him to blot out the entire situation.
The British excel at sex comedy and also drama about inclusivity. Terry Johnson is an experienced and acclaimed playwright and director. Sometimes, the alchemy does not happen. This, sadly, is one of those times.
2 stars – one for the cast, one for the set.
Photo credit: Alastair Muir. Used by kind permission.