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”

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!

UNICORN

Garrick Theatre

Reviewed on 13th February 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

UNICORN

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN at @Sohoplace

★★★★★

“Dan Gillespie Sells’ minimalist score is the pulse of the piece. The songs are an essential narrative. A mood board and a close-up lens.”

Let us begin with what “Brokeback Mountain” is not. It is not a musical, most certainly not a queer musical. Nor is it a flag bearer for the LGBTQ community. Ashley Robinson’s ninety-minute play with music, based on Annie Proulx’s deeply moving novella, defies categorisation. It simply rests on its own uniqueness, to be gently devoured by the watcher. Comparisons to Ang Lee’s 2005 feature film should be avoided. Jonathan Butterell’s production has a voice of its own, sometimes barely more than a whisper, but one whose effects will rise above a lot of the clamour in the West End.

The story is one of forbidden love, framed within the memory of an ageing Ennis Del Mar (Paul Hickey). We are invited to remember a time and a place where being gay could very well be fatal. We are in a scrubland of back-country homophobia that shapes the destinies of two home-grown country kids; ill-informed and confused but wading, ultimately drowning, in bittersweet longing. Oscar nominee Lucas Hedges plays Ennis Del Mar, fearful and quiet, and ‘not much of a talker’, as pointed out by Mike Faist’s brisk and breezy Jack Twist.

They meet in 1963, both hired hands on Joe Aguirre’s (the charismatic Martin Marquez) sheep ranch. Sharing roll-ups and campfire banter, their laddish camaraderie evolves into a drunken fumbling which, after insisting is a one-time affair, becomes a lifelong passion – detached from, yet destroying their respective marriages, families and their own sense of themselves. Their presence is quite magnetic, but the onstage chemistry is not always strong enough to express the deep sense of longing.

The full force of the emotional landscape is brought to us through the music. Dan Gillespie Sells’ minimalist score is the pulse of the piece. The songs are an essential narrative. A mood board and a close-up lens. Greg Miller’s yearning harmonica with BJ Cole’s pedal steel guitar fill the silences with an emotional depth the dialogue can only dream of. Sean Green’s restrained leitmotifs on the piano perfectly underpin the plaintive vocals. Eddi Reader’s voice has a gorgeous purity, scratched by a smoky rawness that echoes the spirit of the protagonists and guides us to their hearts.

The intimacy of the play is captured, too, in Tom Pye’s thoughtful design, drifting from canvas and campfires to the chipped furnishings of Ennis’ home. There the story reaches beyond the central couple shining a light on the sad neglect of Ennis’ wife, Alma. In a stunning stage debut, Emily Fairn subtly exposes the danger that her husband has put himself in. And consequently, the danger for herself too. At its core, “Brokeback Mountain” is a tragedy of two people having to keep their love hidden from the world. But the repercussions go further, touching each and all, which Fairn brilliantly emphasises. Similarly, backing singer Sophie Reid, in a heart-wrenching cameo as Jack Twist’s wife, Lureen, brings home the aching tragedy.

“If you can’t fix it, you gotta stand it” intones Jack Twist, more than once. Fortunately, since the time this is set in, society has ceased to stand it and started to try fixing it. Unfortunately, however, the play’s desolate ending is not something that is confined to history. “Brokeback Mountain” is an important piece of theatre. Compelling and tender. Powerful but fragile. Gentle yet hard-hitting. And quite unmissable.

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

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN at @Sohoplace

★★★★★

“Dan Gillespie Sells’ minimalist score is the pulse of the piece. The songs are an essential narrative. A mood board and a close-up lens.”

Reviewed on 19th May 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

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