★ | Shopping and F***ing
What’s not to like about shopping and f***ing? They’re two fine occupations. The answer is a that there’s a hell of a lot not to like in this messy and deeply flawed adaptation of Mark Ravenhill’s 1996 play. This is a world where sex and consumerism are distinctly unfunny, painfully dull and are a chore to watch.
The play concerns Mark, a heroin addict who’s just failed in rehab, his lover Robbie and their flatmate Lulu. Emotionally deadened and reduced to seeing everything through a lens of consumerism, they’ve lost the ability to connect emotionally. Cue the arrival of Gary, a teenage rent boy who’s the victim of sexual abuse and now wants to be owned and a messy situation with a drug dealer. Events only serve to deepen their jaded worldview.
Thematically the play has become more, rather than less relevant in the 20 years since it was first staged at The Royal Court. The world feels more mechanical and glassy eyed with the rise in the usage of the Internet. The play should work as well as it did when it was first written. The problem here is that director Sean Holmes’ attempts at a clever staging have swamped the play to such a degree that it’s almost unwatchable and the script feels buried beneath a high sheen.
The Lyric has been transformed into a TV studio with a change in seating, green screens and cameras. It’s like a 90’s late night crap TV show with bouncy fake enthusiasm crossed with a surreal shopping channel. Runners appear, there are interludes where the cast try to sell tat to the audience and breaks for shameless nostalgia fests with 90’s pop music, one where Robbie gets off his face on E. It feels sloppy and cheap and not in any intentional way. Back projections of porn, scenes of rimming with associated anal bleeding, characters vomiting on stage, karaoke, audience participation, nudity, on-stage sex, drug-use, splatters of body fluid: I’d list more of the multitude of things that this production has thrown clumsily on stage but I’m starting to get flashbacks of boredom.
It feels sloppy and cheap and not in any intentional way. Back projections of porn, scenes of rimming with associated anal bleeding, characters vomiting on stage, karaoke, audience participation, nudity, on-stage sex, drug-use, splatters of body fluid: I’d list more of the multitude of things that this production has thrown clumsily on stage but I’m starting to get flashbacks of boredom.
This could have worked and could have been an arch and witty adaptation that slammed home the message of the play and emphasised the caustic wit of the piece. Instead, it just feels juvenile and tiresome with nothing to compel you to watch. It’s about as dull as spending an hour and a half listening to Gary Barlow’s monotone voice (if you hadn’t noticed, the characters are named after Take That).
Really disappointing work from The Lyric.
Shopping and F*cking plays at The Lyric until the 5th November
Follow Chris Bridges on Twitter
