Taboos

Sex, religious fundamentalism, and IVF: On paper, Carl Djerassi’s latest offering looks like an amusing proposition. Sadly, stilted dialogue, clumsy characterisation and a preachy plot land this piece firmly in the doldrums.

Harriet and Sally, a lesbian couple in San Francisco, decide to start a family. Sally becomes pregnant with the sperm of Harriet’s brother, Max. Lacking a biological link with the baby, Harriet announces her wish to give birth herself. What’s more, she intends to “keep it in the family” by enlisting Sally’s brother, Cameron, as sperm donor. Events are complicated by the fact that Cameron and his infertile wife, Priscilla, are southern bible bashers with decidedly homophobic tendencies.

So far, so sitcom – which is fine. Except that it’s not very funny. Lines about fundamentalists who are “anti everything ‘homo’, with the possible exception of homosapiens”, fall utterly flat. This is a shame, because the situation is inherently funny.

Also, Andy Jordan’s direction is rather confused. Most of the cast play it straight, whereas Kathryn Akin’s Priscilla, and Jeremy Lindsay Taylor’s Cameron are like refugees from Jerry Springer – the Opera. In particular, Taylor’s Cameron – all crossed hands, and village idiot vowels – is a complete Bible Belt caricature. Not that the writing is calculated to elicit subtlety. When Harriet tells a visiting Priscilla “I hope you’ll let go of some of your conceptions of Sally and me”, the author’s tugs at her strings are all too visible. Reduced to the status of semi-animated marionettes, the protagonists are condemned to mouth the writer’s arguments. The result is unconvincingly dramatised debate.

Lack of original thought aside, there’s also a somewhat smug feel to this production. Cam and Prissy are ridiculed as knee-jerk reactionaries, but Sally, Harriet and Max, with whom we are invited to identify, are hardly more likeable. There’s also the patronising portrayal of the gay characters to contend with. The play appears to suggest that gay people are automatically more nurturing than straight folk. Worse, the climactic discussion is ethically simplistic to the point of making Sesame Street look like Bertolt Brecht.

However, the cast work well with what they are given. Jane Perry’s Harriet is an instantly recognisable personality bypassed yuppie, while Nicola Bryant convinces as her warm, but lost, lover. Also pitch perfect is James Albrecht’s vapid metrosexual Max.

Despite this play’s tendency to reflect, rather than dissect, modern gender roles, many will enjoy its easy charm. Others may prefer to watch a Frasier video instead.

– David Gavan