“Unicorn” at Garrick Theatre
Neil Dowden in the West End
17 February 2025
Mike Bartlett’s new play Unicorn is a sort of companion piece to Cock (which made his name when it premiered at the Royal Court in 2009, also directed by James Macdonald). Both explore the tensions within a three-person, polyamorous relationship, but whereas Cock was about how a bisexual man is caught between his attraction to a gay man and a straight woman who vie for his attentions, Unicorn is about a “throuple” where a heterosexual couple invites a bisexual woman to join them to enliven their fading sex life.
Nicola Walker and Erin Doherty.
Photo credit: Marc Brenner.
The word “unicorn” is used to refer to someone outside a relationship who becomes a part of it in view of its rarity, but of course a unicorn is a legendary creature so Bartlett may be suggesting that this fantasy is doomed to disappointment.
In this case the middle-aged, middle-class couple Polly and Nick (who apparently still have two children living at home though they seem out sight, out of mind), respectively a poet/teacher and ENT specialist, still love each other but the passion has long gone from their marriage. When Polly starts flirting with her working-class mature student Kate, she tentatively suggests to Nick that the three of them establish a sexual liaison together – to which, after hesitating, he agrees.
The play starts off in predominantly humorous mode – like a sophisticated sex comedy – but the mood darkens in the second half set two years later as unexpected complications develop. Much fun is had with the contrast between Kate’s confident, open-minded sexuality and the nervous inexperience of Polly and Nick in a series of awkward discussions. The latter are worried that it may seem like “grooming”, but the 28-year-old Kate confirms her consent – she is up for anything as long as there is no deceit involved. Nick is also particularly concerned that the two women will get on so well that he’ll become redundant. But when things do not work out as hoped, new pressures can either force them apart or bring them together in a different way.
Unicorn contains some wry social commentary and one-liners that hit the comic target, including about the generation gap and ageing: “It’s not comparing your age with other people that’s worrying … it’s when you start wondering if you’re older than objects”, Polly laments. But there is no real sensuality or chemistry between the three of them, and the second act in particular fails to convince us of the nature of their ongoing relations. The situation never feels fully believable.
Macdonald sets a commendably brisk pace with the mainly short scenes quickly changing location, with the minimalist design of Miriam Buether (who also designed the premiere of Cock) featuring bar stools, a sofa, a bench, and eventually a bed, backed by what strangely looks like a shell-shaped canvas and fringed by a triangular neon strip. The in-between music also seems a bit odd, with different versions of the song “Daisy Bell” including the repeated phrase “a bicycle built for two” providing an ironic commentary.
The cast are engaging without their characters being fully fleshed out. Nicola Walker (Polly) and Stephen Mangan (Nick) also played a long-married couple whose marriage runs into trouble in Abi Morgan’s popular TV drama series The Split, and here again they persuade us that they know each other all too well. Kate, played with Cockney directness by Erin Doherty (who was Princess Anne in Netflix’s The Crown and Carly in Death of England: Closing Time, never really rings true though as someone who already knows exactly what they want in life.
Cock was a tense, edgy power struggle between three intimately connected people where it wasn’t clear who was manipulating who, whereas Unicorn despite its provocative subject matter seems comparatively tame. Considering the major talents involved in this show it’s a real disappointment that Bartlett’s first play to be premiered in the commercial West End is so underwhelming.
