"Cock"
Ringwald Theatre at Affirmations
Ferndale, Mich.
March 29, 2025
Love triangles are messy, especially when the love triangle involves the added complication of a changing sexual orientation that throws one’s entire identity into question. That is the premise of Mike Bartlett’s “Cock,” which played in the round at Affirmation’s Ringwald Theatre in Ferndale, directed by Joe Bailey.
The show, which originally opened in 2009, is about the complicated relationships among John – the only named character – his long-term boyfriend credited as “M” and a new girlfriend credited as “W.” After a fight with M, John ends the relationship and soon surprises himself by sleeping with a woman, an initial curiosity that develops into serious feelings. John is torn and indecisive, anguished between the comfort and stability – though somewhat toxic – relationship he’s grown accustomed to, and the novelty and excitement of a new romance with a possibility of marriage and children he hadn’t realized he wanted.
M is direct and critical of John’s faults but loves him anyway. He refers to him as a brother in the sense that the love is unconditional and everlasting, also noting that he is doomed to a life of unhappiness because of it. On the contrary, W is kind and supportive, though has known John for a much shorter time and far less well than M. The situation comes to a head during a tumultuous dinner where W and M hash it out to fight for their love, along with a surprise visit from M’s father, who arrives to support his son.
The story is an interesting exploration of sexual fluidity, personal identity and labels. In one of his more anguished speeches, John expresses his surprise, confusion and doubts over his ability to love a woman after having always identified as gay. He talks about how he was celebrated and supported after coming out to his loved ones, even changing his dress and mannerisms to fit closer to the gay mold he felt was expected of him, though it didn’t always feel natural.
The production is the ultimate in minimalism. There is no set. There are no props – just four actors in neutral colors relying solely on their acting chops to portray the complexities of relationships, sexuality and identity. Scenes and acts transition with simple light changes. Sex is portrayed without direct touching – especially as John experiences his first time with a woman, which is done apart from each other using hand gestures. Scenes of the couple in bed together are expressed with their backs toward one another and faces outward, both making the visual accessible for a theater-in-the-round audience while also removing distraction from pure emotion, which I appreciated. The main three actors, however, performed barefoot, which I didn’t understand and found distracting.
Stephen Davenport stars as John. His portrayal is of a man frustrated, confused and tormented – though also weak, whiny and indecisive. It was, frankly, difficult to understand how this character could be appealing enough for anyone to want to date one on one, let alone be in the center of a love triangle. Nevertheless, Davenport’s anguish was palpable. You hear him ponder, cry and explode in anger, questioning why people are more concerned with what he loves rather than who he loves. You see him bury his head and collapse on the floor to hide from the decision he’s terrified to make. You feel for a man whose life is completely upended when an unexpected encounter with a female stranger makes him question his entire identity, while also wanting to shake him to make him figure himself out.
As M, Miles Bond is a successful, passionate man, fighting for the love of his life with acceptance and patience. He’s the more engaging of the two love interests. Bond succeeds in portraying M’s complicated feelings for a man who frustrates him, yet whom he also loves unconditionally, despite admitting and accepting that that love dooms him to a life of unhappiness.
Grace Jolliffe’s portrayal of W is significantly less dynamic. She is kind, supportive and loving to John, but she lacks passion, which makes it more difficult to believe in the character’s power to seduce a self-identified gay man.
I’m not convinced the character of M’s father needed to be in this play. But Lindel Salow is compelling as a man who will love and support his son no matter what, though also one who has come to accept his own complicated feelings that get slipped about not having biological grandchildren of his own – a case W offers to her favor.
In all cases, I still failed to see why anyone would continue to fight for John or encourage them to do so. It would have been more convincing with insecure characters desperate to cling on to what they could get, but I did not get that sense from M and W. My sympathies for all of them were limited.
“Cock” is an interesting exploration of the link between sexual and personal identity, made more impactful through a stripped-down, raw production that focuses entirely on the essence of the characters’ experiences. While I did not fully connect with the characters, the concept is thought-provoking worth considering.
