Arcola Theatre, London – until 10th June 2023
Reviewed by Mitzi Luck
3***
We meet Rachel, played by Elf Lyons, and Nick, played by Nicholas Armfield, at a work Christmas party, where their romance begins. The first half of the play offers a seemingly light-hearted twist on a classic theme. Man and woman decide to have a sexual relationship, only to find there’s more emotion involved. The character’s personalities explode onto stage (sometimes quite literally with confetti) and bring a riot of witty one-liners to portray their ever more expansive sexual relationship.
The turning point happens when Rachel’s character takes over the traditionally male role, by strapping on a sex toy and taking control. The play could have explored the masculine fear of vulnerability with a richer tone, but does create space for it to be acceptable and light, which in itself takes down some of the sting of fear surrounding it.
The tonal shift between the first half and second does leave some questions regarding the writer, Lisa Carroll’s, intentions in the first half. Are we really meant to laugh at each characters repeated onslaught of requests from their partner? Has a serious message of consent been buried a little too deeply amongst the gags? These questions do, however, get one idea across – neither character is getting it right.
Rachel’s, played by Elf Lyon, soliloquy is powerful in its relentlessness. It displays a marked change in communication style with the audience and underpins our understanding of the message of the play – the frustration is apparent and uncomfortable. Elf Lyon displays her wonderful ability to convey a depth of feeling to the audience.
The Misandrist raises the question of if we set a woman up to fail through repeated trauma, why are we so alarmed when she does, in fact, fail – fail to be saccharine, vulnerable, and gentle? Why are these characteristics we have learnt to expect and feel shocked when they are absent? When a woman wears a stereotypically male transgression of being pushy, do we find it harder to stomach or would we have been horrifyingly familiar with it if the roles were reversed? These questions are left a little unclear in the portrayal of Rachel’s character, and it would have helped to have seen the male character of Nick, played by Nicholas Armfield, be fleshed out a bit further than the ‘nice guy’ that makes a mistake. The severity of his actions seemed, at times, swept under the rug, which might well have been Lisa Carroll’s intentions to portray reality.
Nicholas Armfield’s switch of character into Fiona, the work colleague, brings welcome comedic relief during the second half. Nicholas Armfield is wonderfully funny and convincing. The setting works excellently in its simplicity. The solo round bed structure in the middle doesn’t impose but is easy to understand used in all the contexts of the character’s lives.
The Misandrist provides ample opportunity to laugh – sometimes ruefully, sometimes gleefully. The actors and stage direction by Bethany Pitts come together to make a play that is engrossing and witty, which more than makes up for a lack of clarity in its messaging.