We meet Jake aka Guy de Witt (Tom Kay), our typical Management Consultant, surrounded by every stereotypical item you can think of in a heterosexual bachelor pad, a PC Gaming headset, computer-game boxes, the remnants of a few takeaways from earlier in the week, and even a discarded pair of boxer shorts, as he is deep into his side hustle as a sex podcaster. Strangely, but probably unsurprising for a character who is a total douche bag, there isn’t actually any sex in his sex podcast, instead it’s just a hotline for other douche bags to call in and discuss the highs and lows of being douchebags. They open up on the hardships of douche and techniques to be a bag. Tick. Tick. The scene is set.
Badham’s language in the opening ten minutes is unarguably uncomfortable for anyone who has, however fleetingly, had even the remotest pro-feminist thought in their lifetime, but it’s this writing, paired together with Sally Woodcock’s straight-shooting direction, that exposes a truth which paints the picture of Jake for the rest of the play.
Juxtaposed to this, on the opposite side of the stage, is an equally chaotic scene of disorganised belongings, and nestled in amongst the clothes bedding and discarded food containers we find our protagonist, Ishtar (Rebecca Blackstone). The starkest contrast between these two characters’ lives is immediately apparent, as Ishtar’s predicament is clearly not self-imposed.
Our villain and a victim are not alone though, after a somewhat heavy and unhumorous opening to the show, Badham introduces Denyse (Jodie Tyack), Ishtar’s friend and expert in the feminist martial art, suffra-jitsu. For the audience, Denyse’s arrival is important as she is the firelighter for the comedic introduction to this brilliantly written black comedy.