Lucinda Coxon wrote Herding Cats by night as an antidote to a romantic comedy she was writing by day. The result, first staged in Bath in 2010, was a twisted sibling to the romcom, putting a sickening spin on familiarly funny scenarios such as odd-couple flatshares and office Christmas parties.
There is a high concept to this livestreamed revival by the play’s original director, Anthony Banks. It is performed to an in-person audience at Soho theatre by a cast of three, two of whom (Jassa Ahluwalia and Sophie Melville) are on stage. Intermittently beamed in via video link is Greg Germann (Grey’s Anatomy), live from Los Angeles, who appears on a screen dominating the stage.
This transatlantic hybrid form brings a frisson of risk to the enterprise but also heightens Coxon’s plot, as pertinent as ever during a pandemic, about isolated souls searching for connection. Watching the live stream at my computer, even its accompanying forum – “create a nickname to chat!” – fits the themes of intimacy, voyeurism and disguise.
Melville, since Iphigenia in Splott, is fast proving one of the best British actors of her generation. With a despairing smile, talking miles a minute, she plays twentysomething Justine, who returns home hyper-stressed about her boss and unpacks her emotions along with the groceries. Ahluwalia is similarly impressive as flatmate Michael, still stunned by some unexplained incident, who won’t leave home and earns a living on a sex chatline. Justine, ever on the go, appears in fresh outfits for each scene; Michael shuffles around in the same pyjama bottoms.
His regular customer is Saddo, in his 50s and originally written as Scottish, but played here as American by Germann whose fastidious handling of a kitchen knife and nail scissors hint at horror to come. Germann’s coldly urbane, affluent mannerisms serve to heighten his remoteness.
Over 80 minutes, Coxon draws parallels between the dysfunctional relationships Justine and Michael are locked into with men they alternately fear, miss and pity. Our perceptions of exploitation, abuse, fantasy and control are subtly shifted in a manner comparable to Jennifer Haley’s The Nether. The play’s short scenes were originally joined by bursts of pop music; here we have an electronic score by sound designers Ben and Max Ringham, which is a little underpowered compared with their usual work. The jittery energy of the script is boosted by the bright colours of Grace Smart’s set, where the flatmates play table football and use an exercise bike.
It’s a slick technical feat and the play still prickles under the skin as Coxon expertly examines a generation who discover walls closing in on them rather than horizons opening up.
At Soho theatre, London, and online until 22 May.
