REVIEW: COCK, Kitty Milk Theatre, Augustine United Church Edinburgh 2026 ★★★

Caught in a tussle of expectations about his sexuality, John finds himself at the dinner table with his long-time boyfriend M and newly-found lover W to peel back his identity, alongside most importantly what he owes to either and both of them. After a falling out with M, John’s identity becomes fraught when the audacious W suggests the pair get intimate, even despite John’s out-and-out status as a gay man. Edinburgh-based queer ensemble Kitty Milk Theatre’s ambitious debut piece strikes out in style and verve, but is a little too headstrong and sharp to delve into the deeper themes of Mike Barlett’s acclaimed script.

Bartlett left directors of his writing very specific instructions for COCK – “there is no scenery, no props, no furniture, and no mime.” Kitty Milk play a game of two halves in this sense then, by dropping a surreptitious interval halfway through the piece in which the as yet empty stage with a large antique dinner table, crockery, cutlery and even trays of lavish food. Director Elle Catherine Willcocks gives us a wink and a nod to the themes at the heart of COCK in their decisiveness to halve the play here thematically, scenically, and temporally, and go against Bartlett”s wishes, to pursue something stylistically quite different.

Dichotomies are at the crux of Barlett’s script – the cleavage between sexuality and selfhood unravelling as John realises the weight of society’s expectations for him to make a decision about who he is, in the face of varying expectations of who he should be. Willcocks’ sharp line down the middle of the piece reflects John’s double life bubbling to the surface, yet it feels that in spite of the sense of theatrical play involved in subverting expectations, the dramatic results come just short of delivering an emotive pay-off as the piece reaches its ninety minute conclusion.

Spirited performances from Jude Ellis Rogers as a turgid and impatient M and Eve Nugent as a fretful yet vivacious W flank Andrew More’s perturbed and reluctant John. There’s a sense throughout that some moments are given due course to unravel, and others paced through at a hundred miles per hour. This leaves a narrative turbulence running through the piece that sometimes struggles to capture the humanity at the story’s heart.

Despite this, there are some particularly well-realised moments, where all on stage clearly revel in the chance to explore Bartlett’s style of ‘intimacy without mime’. More and Nugent handle the intimate sections between John and W with candid charm, leaving the humour baked within relatable and the rapport seeming natural. The pair take in some well-earnt laughs from the audience throughout, and paddle the plot forwards towards its unsettling finale.

Rogers’ M is perhaps the most well-constructed personality of the trio, who bats well off of the arrival of the character’s father, F, in the closing act of the piece. Max Middleton plays much older than appearance in a performance that is comically brilliant, yet his arrival marks a determining point where Kitty Milk’s adaptation delves too much into farce to leave the audience on an emotional note.

As the set and props are dragged onto stage in subversive style, the audience is left anticipating a polar shift in tone and narrative, and unfortunately at this moment left a little in the emotional lurch. The descriptions of sexuality and identity, especially anyone familiar with modern attitudes to polycules and gender, come across a little dated, but thankfully the production design on display situates this piece firmly in a nostalgic lens.

The piece is well corniced by stunning costume design from Megan Fourie that captures the era of the late 2000s in all its nostalgia and the characters in all their eccentricities. An accompanying soundscape that flutters in between is also well deployed, giving a background radio hum to a piece that is all about communication and miscommunication.

Living your life in two diverging halves may have consequences far beyond what you anticipated. For both John and Kitty Milk Theatre, both live a little too much in either half to get what they set out for. What shines through, however, is a sense of upheaval and rambunctiousness that marks Kitty Milk, Willcocks’ directorial style, and the performers’ candid nature as ones to watch.

Recommended Drink: Well, it depends on what we’re eating, doesn’t it John?

You can catch COCK at The Studio in Augustine United Church, Edinburgh on Tuesday 7th April at 14:30 and 19:30 (90mins). Tickets are available through the Fienta Online Box Office.

Image Credit: Emily Sharp