There is an art to upping a play’s controversy quotient with its title.
Certainly Stephen Adly Guirgis knew he was stirring up trouble and attention when he called his 2011 stage work The Motherf***** with the Hat. The same probably goes for British writer Mike Bartlett, who named his verbal tug-of-war play Cock, a title that the exceedingly prudish New York Times refused to publish when the sly drama arrived off-Broadway last year.
In both cases, GableStage’s artistic director Joseph Adler — who is genetically drawn to controversy — recognized them as good crackling theater, no matter what they are called. Cock may not be the most substantial play you will ever encounter, but it is lively entertainment and maybe even thought-provoking on the nature of love and sexual attraction.
At the play’s center is a young Brit named John (the appealing, verbally nimble Ryan Didato) who identifies himself as gay, not least because he has been in a seven-year relationship with a somewhat older bloke, known only as M (the extremely expressive Nicholas Richberg).
Feeling suffocated by the uneven partnership, John walks out on M and —improbably, but go with it — he initiates a heterosexual affair with W (a pleasant-looking, but understated Julie Kleiner), a woman he had previously noticed on his daily commute. Excited and confused by his first straight encounter, John becomes conflicted about his sexual orientation as M and W demand he make a choice between them.
At GableStage, that stylized skirmish takes place on a hardwood-floored boxing ring, defined by a trio of red velvet ropes. Locales change, but we never leave the arena designed and executed simply by Lyle Baskin. With just the slightest alteration, the Cock set could be used to perform The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity in rotating repertory.
John tells W that he is eager to leave M and live with her, but of course it is not that easy. His seven-year ties to M are hard to sever and, besides, John is a spineless chap. So he allows himself to be caught having dinner with both, where he is expected to choose between them, preferably before dessert. Worse yet, M has invited his father to this fateful repast, to meddle as he sees fit.
Although these characters should rightfully melt into incoherence at the quandary they face, Bartlett instead puts the most articulate, witty language in their mouths as they claw at each other while maintaining a veneer of civility. In their well-crafted dialogue, they bring to mind the couple in Duncan Macmillan’s Lungs, which also opts for a stripped-down, bare-bones production emphasizing the text. (Note to both playwrights: You do not achieve universality by naming your characters with letters.)
Certainly Adler has gathered a first-rate cast and orchestrated them to razor-sharp perfection. While they work as a well-balanced ensemble, Richberg manages to stand out with the bitchy spin he puts on each acidic line reading. Didato, so impressive as Mark Rothko’s assistant in Red, shows here that he has the skill and range for a sustained career in the theater.
Kleiner shows she can handle herself in this heady company, even if W is essentially a pawn in this battle. And Peter Galman injects himself capably into the fray as M’s father (yes, known only as F).
The clever Bartlett has written a companion piece to Cock, and it’s called Bull. He is a playwright who knows how to make words do his bidding and while he diverts us with humor, he also knows how to draw blood with language.
COCK, GableStage, 1200 Anastasia Ave., Coral Gables. Through Sunday, June 16. Tickets: $37.50-$50. Call: (305) 445-1119.