Saturday, 9 July 2011

The Village Bike review, Jerwood Theatre, Royal Court

Newly pregnant and hormones jumping, Becky is hungry for hard, frequent sex. Husband John, however, is anything but. His head full of antiquated ideas, he won't go near her, even when she's sitting at the end of the bed watching his porn DVDs. Is it any wonder that Becky - the lively and lovely Romola Garai - has it off with village lothario, Oliver, and even the dear old plumber, Mike?

The Village Bike tackles serious issues about women and sex. At its heart is the common disconnect between male and female sex drive during pregnancy. This is explored through the way women respond to pornography. As part of that mix we consider the nature of sexuality, infidelity, jealousy, indifference, dependence and guilt. Then there's Jenny - the very believable Alexandra Gilbraith - the brittle ghost of Christmas future, a slave to her sons and their increasingly absent father.

This is a highly entertaining couple of hours and director Joe Hill-Gibbins squeezes in a number of inspired Ghost moments. No potters wheels here, but it's surprising how much can be suggested by vigorous pan scrubbing. There is also a glorious scene where we know everything about Becky and Oliver's liaison by the way she's riding her bike and he's hanging his antlers... 

Bed and Bored v Bed and Boned
In conclusion: There are too many themes in Penelope Skinner's play for any one to be explored properly. This doesn't limit in any way the pleasure of the piece - it's witty, well-paced and the set is great too - but the men are rendered one-dimensional in order to examine the women.


References
Michael Billington in The Guardian
Tickets (sold out, but always worth asking about returns)

1 comment:

  1. Romola Garai is fantastic. But I felt the play came to the end of its limitations half way through the second act. It asked a lot of questions about sex and gender but failed to deliver emotionally because the action was not character driven.If this had been part of a cunning post-modern plan it might have been laudable. Instead, it was limp; a play about sex which failed to orgasm. But enjoyable just the same.

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