Review: Cock by Theatre en Bloc
by Michael Meigs

Director Derek Kolluri and the four equally gifted members of this cast prove to us how perilously close are the arcs between sentimental comedy and tragedy. Cock is a powerful piece, one that will wring you out over the hundred minutes of fierce emotional fighting that takes place inside the chalk circle at the Off Center.

Playwright Mike Bartlett's provocative title Cock is a cheap come-on, not worthy of the depth of feeling and the intensity of the acting.  Yes, it depicts a standoff between homosexual love and heterosexual love; but although there's no reticence about naming body parts, the mere plumbing of affection has very little to do with it.

Will Hollis Snider's photo for the poster captures the dynamics much more precisely.  John, in the center, has struggled free of a long involvement with a man, played by Ryan Hamilton.  He's stifled by the relationship.  In his brief break of freedom he encounters the woman, played by Jenny Lavery, whom he's often seen on his way to work.  They fall in love.  Or, rather, he falls for her and discovers the ecstatic mysteries of heterosexual sex, and she reaches out to him as her dream, her romance, her path to a real life of fulfillment and family.

John is pulled both ways.  Not knowing himself, he is prey to the vivid visions of each of his partners.  This fierce contest is aptly symbolized by the early bouts within the chalked circle, interrupted by the boxing bell that marks the rounds.

It's an eternal triangle, with the twist that the poles of attraction are of different sexes.  John challenges himself and each of his counterparts, and he regularly gets the worst of it because of his reluctance to choose -- a choice presented as homo- versus hetereo- but really and fundamentally a choice between the promises offered by two very different potential life partners.

Director Kolluri and the actors deliver these debates, quarrels and agonies in emphatic tones and vigorous movement. The cast speaks in capable UK accents, a technique that gives them added theatricality, and Kolluri has defined rhythms, spacing and movements that encompass the acute discomfort of the characters, their aggressions and their defenses.  You have no idea where all this is going to end up, but it's all a hell of a ride. 

One key sequence is the extremely vivid re-enactment of the first sexual encounter between John and the woman.  It's depicted entirely in words as the two circle the periphery of the playing space, faces inches apart and eyes riveted upon one another, never touching.  This is the hottest and most profoudly moving depiction of sex that I've ever seen in the theatre, though not a scrap of clothing is removed.

How does one resolve the dilemma of a triangle?  Inevitably, by bring all three corners together for confrontation -- in this case, for a rigidly polite dinner at the man's flat where, unexpectedly, his father (Dennis Bailey) is also invited.  There are psychic fireworks, power plays, challenges, capitulations, and a decision of sorts, finally -- but an outcome that quivers there, still indecisive, a depressed agony of unknowing.

Theatre en Bloc's Cock is a night of ferocious acting and struggle, featuring an ensemble that seizes both characters and audience. 

Highly recommended!

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Cock
by Mike Bartlett
Theatre en Bloc