Review: UNICORN, Garrick Theatre

You would think that Nicola Walker and Stephen Mangan had had enough of acting roles surrounding marital discord. In Abi Morgan's hugely popular TV series The Split, the pair have been up and down on the rollercoaster of marriage for years. Now reunited on stage, alongside Erin Doherty, for Mike Bartlett's provocative new play, Unicorn, this is a stellar cast, with an excellent writer. So why does it feel rather hollow?

Bartlett's 2009 play Cock, also directed by James Macdonald, was about a different sort of love triangle. Here, Polly and Nick are a middle-aged married couple; saying they are happy yet feeling stuck. When teacher and poet Polly meets an intriguing student called Kate, played by Doherty, she is captivated and wants to bring her into their relationship. Doctor Nick reluctantly agrees to the arrangement, both as a pleasurable experience, but also as a challenge to try to guarantee against future boredom and stagnation. Cue marital crisis and endless discussions on benches and sofas.

It is clear that Walker and Mangan have known each other since university, as they bring an ease and natural rapport to the stage. No one can accuse Mangan of having huge range, but he does what he does very well; his sardonic and deadpan delivery works well here as Nick, with visible insecurity and touching vulnerability. Walker is more frenetic and very sweary as Polly, but less convincing as a woman who really wants to bring someone else into her marriage.

Doherty is confident and assured as Kate. Explicit and candid in her language to both other characters, she smashes into the insecurities of the older couple, challenging them to think differently about sexual fluidity, labels and traditional relationships. Doherty is always a treat to watch, but never brings huge charisma to the role. What is missing from the production is some real passion and a tangible build in the sexual tension between all characters.

The concept of a middle-aged couple letting a younger, single and childfree woman into their relationship is ripe for exploration. Polly is swept up in the excitement of the gamble they are taking. Nick is more reserved and aware that just the thought of their marriage crossing that invisible boundary changes everything. Kate arguably has nothing to lose in the situation; for her the arrangement is a novelty, a social experiment. 

Bartlett not only pushes the audience to consider relationship norms, but also stark generational differences in attitudes and experiences. The first half is sparky, often clever and has some genuinely funny moments. Cue animated discussions at the interval.

The word unicorn is often used to describe the rarity of a woman who joins a heterosexual couple in a relationship, but also can be seen as describing the unrealistic and mythical expectations of polyamory. And this is where the play really stutters in the second half. The realities of being in a throuple are never explored, beyond an incredibly idealistic portrayal. We hear references to the climate crisis, politics and masculinity, but where are the power dynamics, the jealousy, the etiquette? As the lights go to black there is a distinct feeling that Bartlett didn't know how to end his story.

Miriam Buether’s minimalistic stage design places the characters inside a semi-circular arch, in front of which looks like an enormous paper lightshade that occasionally rises and falls. Natasha Chivers's lighting design punctuates the scenes in bright flashes, as though to remind us we are seeing snippets of the lives on stage.

Macdonald's direction is static, with little action other than characters entering a scene or sitting on a sofa. It is frustrating, as there is so much potential in both the rich subject matter and the excellent cast. Like the staging, this production feels empty.

Unicorn is at the Garrick Theatre until 26 April

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