Cock, Feb 13, 2014 **

By Mike Bartlett, Melbourne Theatre Company
Fairfax Studio, Arts Centre Melbourne, and Feb 13 until Mar 22, 2014
Reviewer: Kate Herbert on Feb 13
Stars:** 
This review was NOT written for, or published in the Herald Sun. Sorry it took so long to publish here. KH

The title of this play made me think of James May on Top Gear, when he stacks a Bugatti Veyron, sighing with exasperation and exclaiming, “Oh, cock!”

But Mike Bartlett’s play with its childishly provocative title, Cock, (attention-grabbing anyone!) lacks even the wit and complexity of May’s blunt expletive.

A love triangle with a twist is no novelty – except when it involves a man who cannot choose between another man and a woman. 

Cock is indulgent and repetitive with thoroughly dislikeable characters that spend their time bullying each other or simpering and whining and repeating the same until the end.

Leticia Cáceres’ production is awkward and colourless (surprising given its content) and the static and unimaginative direction and stilted performances do nothing to enhance Bartlett’s repetitive and adolescent script.

Bartlett’s glib dialogue is repetitive and riddled with clumsy interruptions, unfinished sentences and unresolved thoughts that do not illuminate the characters, relationships or issues.

These elements can all work if it is well written or directed, but Cock is neither. It lacks skill and both the script and the direction make these generally competent actors look all at sea.

Cáceres removes any action based on stage directions, opting for a stylised, non-naturalistic form, which is a device that can create an interesting theatricality.

However, in this case, the abstraction leaves the actors looking as if their feet are nailed to the floor and makes the rather shallow script seem even less dynamic.

Cáceres sets the entire three-way relationship battle in a sea of puffy white cushions that are perhaps meant as an obtuse metaphor for the fluffy thought processes, soft landings or ill-defined relationships – who knows!

But they manage only to get in the way of the actors and make any anger or heightened emotion look like a kids’ pillow fight.

There is no passion or chemistry between John (Tom Conroy) and the unnamed woman (Sophie Ross) or man (Angus Grant).

John is a deliberately sketchy character – a young man whose personality is still undefined but, oddly, he is the only character defined by a name.

He totters between his long-term partner (Grant) who is a brittle, controlling, supercilious, nasty camp stockbroker and the bolshy but nurturin, demanding but motherly woman (Ross).

This is a deeply unsatisfying production that fail to penetrate the issues that are at its centre – sexual preference, love and identity – but, instead, spins its wheels, reiterating points ad nauseum.

The only compelling moment was a short speech by John about his journey into practising homosexuality at university that gave him some structure for his identity.

The final dinner scene gathers some momentum but by then it is too late for the production.

This play should look like a boxing match but it is more like a bouncy castle with toddlers bumping into each other randomly.

By Kate Herbert

Cast

Tom Conroy

Angus Grant

Sophie Ross

Tony Rickards