Photo by John Flynn
Photo by John Flynn

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Cock

 

Reviewed by Reza Vojdani
Rogue Machine
Through Nov. 3

 

Though the title may be overtly provocative, Cock, written by Mike Bartlett, is more than an overly highlighted sexual exploration of relationships. The play follows John (Partrick Stafford), a young, seemingly gay man who after a falling out with his long time partner M (Matthew Elkins) begins to connect with W (Rebecca Mozo), a young woman with whom he develops an emotional and sexual relationship. When emotionally ambivalent John attempts to reconcile his relationship with M, whose father F (Gregory Itzin) arrives to help arbiter the situation, tensions rise amidst a struggle between all parties to find out the true nature of John’s affection.

 

The first thing you’ll notice about Cock, under Cameron Watson’s skillful direction, is Stephen Gifford’s set and/or lack thereof. With no actual furniture or set dress, the design is nonetheless haunting; the acting space, seating, and walls are all bright, green-screen green, with only scattered blue striations around the acting space breaking up the potent color. Though at first overpowering, the color choice transforms into a very suitable, abstract backdrop for the play’s action, helped along by Jared A. Sayeg’s lighting design.

 

Bartlett’s choice to deal with each of John’s relationships in separate, successive parts of the play works particularly well: Rather than having the audience try and reconcile the two sets of interactions simultaneously, by parsing them, Bartlett is able to present both relationships as meaningful in their own right. What could easily come off as callous promiscuity on John’s part is instead shown to be the uncertain action taken by someone suffering from an intense emotional divide. Though the connections between John and his two partners never feel fully developed onstage, due more so to the script’s shortcomings than the actors or Watson’s directing style, the dialogue’s details and casual yet clever wit give both relationships poignancy.

 

What is most powerful about the play is its ability to realistically render and do justice to all sides of the action. We get a sense of how M(an) and W(oman) both see themselves with John, in the greater scale of their lives. Further removed, F(ather)’s weighing in on the situation feels genuine in his attempt to both support his son while also trying to understand the struggle of the young man who is betraying him. John’s inability to take any meaningful action by the end of the play reflects not a weakness of character or integrity, but rather the magnitude of the identity crisis he faces.

 

Indeed, Cock is a richly textured examination of identity: Even with the more progressive acceptance of homosexuality in today’s age, labeling and categorizing people and their predispositions is nowhere in retreat. M’s piercing characterization of John as “a collection of things that don’t amount” shows how quickly the inability to fully understand something can galvanize it as “other” or “wrong.” Bartlett beautifully renders the intense inner-struggle of someone trying to rigidly define themselves for the sake of those around them; something they feel they must and yet cannot truly do. The play doesn’t preach any sort of LGBT or gay rights agenda, it simply asks us to consider the different levels of emotional struggle that manifest within us all, and how we choose to approach them. It’s thoughtful, funny, and well worth a 90-minute stint inside a bright green room.

 

Rogue Machine, 5041 W Pico Blvd., Sat., 5p.m.; Sun., 7p.m. (added perfs select Tuesdays, 8 pm.); through Nov. 3 roguemachine.secure.force.com/ticket/

 

 

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