Cock, Ambassadors Theatre review ★★★★★

When Mike Bartlett’s Olivier-winning play Cock first hit the stage, the year was 2009 and the conversation around sexuality and gender was much more black and white (and muted). Over a decade later and a whole dictionary of terms has blossomed describing the nuances of sexuality, while pronouns have become a hot topic. Is now the right time for a West End play that encapsulates our evolving attitudes to gender and sexuality? Certainly. Is Cock that play? No.

However, until a great work on the topic arrives (or rather, gets commissioned for a major stage), the Doctor Foster writer’s pithy ponderings on the labels we’re forced to assign our sexuality is a stepping stone. This production, directed by Marianne Elliott (Company, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time), is strengthened by great on-stage chemistry between an explosive Jonathan Bailey (Company, Bridgerton) and sassy Taron Egerton (Rocketman), and noteworthy movement direction from Annie-Lunnette Deakin-Foster.


Taron Egerton (M) Jonathan Bailey (John) in Cock. Photo: Brinkhoff Moegenburg

When questions over compatibility convince John (Bailey) to take a break from his boyfriend of seven years, M (Egerton), he winds up in his first sexual relationship with a woman, W (a cleverly measured performance from Jade Anouka). Several romps and rows between John and both partners later, and things come to a head over a nightmarish dinner between the three of them and M’s father, F (Phil Daniels). John is pressured to declare whether he is gay, straight or bisexual, and choose whether M or W would make a better life partner.

This bowing down to the gender terms of yesteryear renders Cock dated by today’s standards, when the spectrum of sexuality has been widened and coloured in considerably. Furthermore, a string of wince-worthy, derogatory remarks about women, used flippantly in the context of the play, would be enough to have M cancelled by 2022’s everyday adjudicators, and yet a 2009 audience would likely have laughed them off as banter.

Still, Bartlett’s writing is uniformly sharp and quick-witted; his tight dialogue is peppered cleverly with aposiopesis, leaving home truths hanging in unfinished sentences. Like his later plays Albion and Snowflake, Cock is a worthy example of the writer’s Pinter-esque ability to take his audience right into the shattering of a once close-knit relationship.


Jonathan Bailey (John), Phil Daniels (F) Taron Egerton (M) Jade Anouka (W) in Cock. Photo: Brinkhoff Moegenburg

The action plays out on designer Merle Hensel and lighting designer Paule Constable’s bare, harshly lit, metallic stage that curves inwards from both sides, manifesting John’s claustrophobia and uncomfortable predicament. A nifty sliding floor sends him and both partners orbiting one another like atoms.

What stands out in this production is Deakin-Foster’s movement direction. On a prop-less stage, we see the characters recoil dramatically from their emotions or display their inward discomfort at being in one another’s presence by standing quite literally shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the audience. Sex between John and W is dealt with creatively, with the couple standing apart on stage, again facing the audience as they comically move their hips and dissect their first time together.

Cock is a decent play revived by a team of tip-top talent, just don’t come in search of fresh or insightful commentary on gender and sexuality. Here’s hoping something to those ends gets its West End break soon.