Review: THREE WAY, The Lion & Unicorn Theatre

There are plenty of gay plays, some very successful and other less so, that carefully depict life as a homosexual male. There aren't too many that deal with being a bisexual man, with Mike Bartlett's Cock perhaps being the most famous one.

Somehow, someone's sexual and romantic attraction for multiple genders is always a bit left behind, like in the real world. When we talk about queer issues, bisexual stigma is very present even inside our own community. From their alleged promiscuity to never-being-gay-enough, bi people have their own set of paranoias that can make a very good play.

Theatre company Split Infinitive have made their way down to London from the Midlands to deliver three monologues that explore the misjudgements tied around the B in LGBTQ+. Alex Millington writes distinct but complementary pieces that intertwine to paint a refreshing point of view directed by Helen Millington. The script is a tidy stream of consciousness that balances its literary core with enough vernacular so as not to appear uptight.

He introduces a married man who's foundations have shaken when his husband asks him to impregnate his best friend, a lad who's enjoying the noncommittal side of his sexuality, and a young woman faced with the sudden coming out of her father. While the first two parts are truly insightful, the third one comes across as a weakness in the long run. The men recount their journeys and how they had their own hesitations, but she starts off with a tangent on her childhood sofa.

While her use of the raggedy couch as a symbol to take the audience on her journey, as a whole, her chapter feels out of place in subject and tone. The men have self-reflective and narratively sound addresses, but by the final stretch, her standpoint is too out of focus to join them. It's unclear what exactly the reason of her tale is, as she goes from her parents' divorce to her dad's relationships to his dementia.

What Millington might be trying to do by placing her in the middle is to show that ultimately sexuality only matters to a certain extent. Still, there's too big a dissonance for it to come off smoothly when matched with the other two brilliant speeches. The confessional-style establishes the relationship with the crowd right away, creating an intimate environment that encourages their sharing.

All in all, Three Way might have some blind spots, but it remains a bold and stimulating piece of theatre.

Three Way runs at The Lion & Unicorn Theatre until 28 August as part of Camden Fringe.

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