Writer and Director: David Shopland
The second half of David Shopland’s Cul-de-Sac seems to go on forever. The first half, also long but not without its moments, at least has promises of a farce, an updated version of Abigail’s Party, if you will, replete with a vicar’s wife and a closeted gay man right out of the annals of Alan Bennett. But the impromptu party in Shopland’s play soon turns out to be the worst kind of party: a pity party.
Although set in the present day, give or take a few years, Cul-de-Sac lacks any references to contemporary culture. There are a few mentions of YouTube and gender “fluidity”, but the characters, most of whom appear to be in their 30s, seem more at home making remarks about Trevor “Shoestring” Eve, Bob Hoskins and Phil Collins, allusions that only an older generation would find familiar.
The show begins with such an anachronism as we see suburban housewife Ruth hit the sherry to numb her boredom and feelings of isolation. Prosecco and Aperol Spritz clearly haven’t reached this cul-de-sac somewhere in Zone 6. Ruth is relieved when Marie, the local vicar’s wife, drops in to invite her to the local church fete being held that weekend. They chit-chat over more sherry.
But God-fearing Marie has a secret. She’s cheating on Rev. Graham and has a burner phone on which to conduct her illicit relationship. And then neighbour Simon appears with a parcel. His secret, he determines, still stinging after his wife ran away with his brother, is that he may be gay. The revealing of Ruth’s secret explains why she has no job; therapists really shouldn’t sleep with their clients and then go on to marry them. But what she sees in husband Frank is hard to fathom. All he worries about is parking spaces.
By disclosing all his characters’ secrets in the first half, Shopland rather writes himself into the cul-de-sac of the title. There’s little jeopardy to lure audiences to return after the interval. If the second act took place at the village fete, the play may have more of a sense of direction, but instead, the second half picks up where the first ended. With no more mysteries to solve, the characters, now joined by Marie’s toyboy Hamza, must compete to see who has had the worst past.
We hear about terrorist attacks and car crashes, about IEDs and foster homes, about cancer and racism. Everyone has a story to tell. Cul-de-Sac’s farcical start has truly been left behind. Awful as their stories are, you can’t help to think that Shopland is laying it on too thick. Any one of these disasters would have held the play together, but coming at the same time, each is diluted by the others.
As Ruth, Shereen Roushbaiani mainly plays things straight compared to the other characters. She is a talented actor, almost getting the audience to invest in her dilemma, but the fact that Ruth remains unemployed and trapped in the suburbs doesn’t match her resolve. Callum Patrick Hughes probably has the best night of the evening as Simon, the goofy manchild who has a penchant for vintage commercials, but – for good or bad – he’s given little to do in the second half.
Lucy Farrett is Maria, the simpering vicar’s wife plucked out of a cosy crime TV show, while it’s hard to sympathise with Ellis J. Wells’s Frank. Despite his troubles, he treats the rest of the characters with disdain, even subjecting Hamza (a spirited Behkam Salehani) to a very old-fashioned racist tirade, another instant where the play creaks with the politics of old.
Running at almost three hours, the party eventually breaks up, but you’ll be wishing you’d stayed at home instead.
Runs until 14 June 2025
