★★★★

“Walker and Mangan are both wonderful in their roles, giving a natural performance that allows us to believe in everything they say”

The trigger warning in the publicity for Mike Bartlett’s new play, “Unicorn”, states that it ‘contains explicit content and scenes of a sexual nature, which some audience members may find intriguing’. A description that could be applied to the whole play. For it is, indeed, an intriguing and curious affair. Whether it’s an affair of the heart is debatable. ‘Debatable’ being the operative word – the flames of desire are often dowsed by too much discussion. Which is the crux. Bartlett is the master of dialogue and “Unicorn” mixes sharp humour with weighty matters; sometimes dark but lit up by its dazzling one-liners that are timed perfectly, even if the aim is a bit unsure of its target.

Polly (Nicola Walker) is having a drink with one of her writing students, Kate (Erin Doherty). The mutual attraction transcends the age gap and looks set to leap over the lecturer/student divide. The trouble is though, Polly is happily married to Nick (Stephen Mangan), and they share everything. Aha! Why not share the ‘girlfriend’ too. Kate is up for it. Cut to scene two in which Polly broaches the subject with Nick. The spark is supposed to have gone from their marriage, although it is hard to believe as the chemistry and affection between the couple are more than evident in their conversation and body language. Walker and Mangan are both wonderful in their roles, giving a natural performance that allows us to believe in everything they say. Nick is more reticent about the idea of a threesome but is spurred on by Polly’s persuasiveness, which is a neat segue into scene three – one of the highlights in which Nick meets Kate for the first time. Mangan’s beautifully portrayed awkwardness clashes with Doherty’s cheeky, Essex-accented bluntness. Our sympathies lie with the former.

The short scenes are punctuated with riffs of the old music hall song ‘Daisy Daisy (Bicycle Made for Two)’; a neat, tongue in cheek touch. Initially they are light and jazzy, slowly morphing into a more masculine, cockney version until a final punk arrangement points us in the direction of darker territory. Miriam Buether’s simple and stark sets place the action under an umbrella-like, fabric semi-dome. Yet it is the words that always speak louder than the action (a reverse of the old adage). There is very little action and by interval we are starting to wonder where it is all going.

The second act provides the answer, and some unexpected twists too. And with a more pronounced political metaphor leaking into the language the humour takes a bit of a back step. Time has moved forward, and the relationships have taken on a different dynamic. We find ourselves further losing sympathy with the character of Kate – the motif ‘bicycle made for two’ taking on more resonance. Doherty’s intricate portrayal captures this dichotomy excellently; torn between her arrogant, self-imposed right to be considered part of the family but up against decades of intimacy that the couple previously shared without her. It’s hard to fix a third saddle onto the bike.

Bartlett is tackling material that is not necessarily ground-breaking or new. But he does throw a couple of surprises at us. Cleverly constructed with ever-shortening scenes that shrink towards a quite poignant finale, it is nevertheless the execution (with credit to James Macdonald’s able direction) that truly carries the weight. A starry cast, yes, but stellar performances. They make a powerful and seductive threesome that we’d all like to jump into bed with. Metaphorically, of course!

WOMEN, BEWARE THE DEVIL at the Almeida Theatre

★★★★

“full of artful tricks that allow the action to switch between vast portrait galleries designed to impress, to intimate bedroom spaces”

Women, Beware the Devil, Lulu Raczka’s new play at the Almeida Theatre, directed by Rupert Goold, is an intriguing mix of social history and political commentary, set in the 1640s. It’s a commentary etched upon the domestic lives of women caught up in the beginnings of a civil war that will change their lives forever. What has the devil to do with all this? His power is not what it was, as he engagingly confides in the opening scene. But for all this gutsy introduction to the Prince of Darkness, Raczka’s play is less about devilish magic, and more about hanging onto an ancient house by any means, fair or foul. And if you consider the current preoccupations with the housing crisis in Britain, then Women, Beware the Devil doesn’t seem so much a lesson in history, as a very contemporary play indeed.

Make no mistake, Women, Beware the Devil is a play about a property. It’s also about primogeniture and the powerlessness of women to decide their own fates. Everything revolves around the stately home and the lives of the women bound to it by blood or by service. Lady Elizabeth, unmarried sister of the dimwitted Edward, takes her duties towards the house seriously, as well she might. For if her brother fails to produce a male heir, then she loses her power, but more importantly, loses her home as well. The female servants that surround her are equally vulnerable. Their livelihoods depend on the owners of the house and their goodwill. When Edward refuses to consummate his marriage with a wealthy woman he considers socially beneath him, Elizabeth puts her soul on the line to ensure that the house remains in her family. She hires Agnes, a woman suspected of being a witch by her gossiping neighbours, and instructs her to bewitch her brother into doing his duty by his wife. Agnes initially refuses, but the ways in which Elizabeth and her sister in law Catherine work upon Agnes precipitate a diabolical revenge. Agnes really is a witch, it seems. If the devil does win in this grim story, it is presumably because he set up the property system around the time of William the Conqueror, and then sat back to watch it all play out.

Women, Beware the Devil plays out on a magnificent set designed by Miriam Buether. It is full of artful tricks that allow the action to switch between vast portrait galleries designed to impress, to intimate bedroom spaces. Buether’s set echoes the distances between the characters, with tall windows and a receding perspective that heighten this chilly tale. Goold’s directing is a beautifully crafted choreography designed to emphasize the power relationships between the women, and show how these shift dramatically during the course of the play. The costumes, designed by Evie Gurney, are a lovely mix of Puritan drab and Cavalier excess, with sparkling jewelry for added bling. It’s all spell binding to look at, presided over by a fetching Satan with cute little horns. Nathan Armarkwei-Laryea plays him to perfection, and manages a host of other roles as well. Some devilish, and some all too human. But the lion’s share of the action goes to the actresses in Women, Beware the Devil, as it should. Lydia Leonard as Elizabeth and Alison Oliver as Agnes face off for an epic struggle of good versus evil, and the fact that it’s difficult to tell exactly who is on Team Evil simply enhances our enjoyment of their work. Lola Shalam, Aurora Dawson-Hunte and Carly-Sophia Davies are a convincing trio of gossiping maids with agendas of their own. Leo Bill as Edward, and Ioanna Kimbook as the browbeaten Catherine, have the least sympathetic roles, but they still claim the space convincingly as their own whenever they are on stage.

For all its bravado in theme and presentation, however, Women, Beware the Devil undercuts its own power by being more about domestic politics than witchcraft. Not surprisingly, we are are unconvinced by threats of witchfinders, especially when they are unmasked as one more kind of puritan revolutionary. Yes, they can still do harm. But the age of the witchfinder ended, pretty much, a generation earlier, and the world of the play is now trembling on the edge of a philosophical revolution which will banish superstition (and witches) for good. So maybe the devil is just having one last party with the unfortunate women. Raczka hints that he’s still around, in different disguises, even in our modern world. But that’s a claim that rings hollow in our sceptical age. And it’s an unconvincing ending for a drama that suggests a reckoning with big subjects.

UNICORN

Garrick Theatre

★★★★

“Walker and Mangan are both wonderful in their roles, giving a natural performance that allows us to believe in everything they say”

UNICORN

Garrick Theatre

Reviewed on 13th February 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

UNICORN

UNICORN

UNICORN

WOMEN, BEWARE THE DEVIL at the Almeida Theatre

★★★★

“full of artful tricks that allow the action to switch between vast portrait galleries designed to impress, to intimate bedroom spaces”

Reviewed on 23rd February 2023

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Marc Brenner

More shows recently reviewed by Dominica: