Writer: Cameron Corcoran
Director: Nicky Allpress
James and Lemy are breaking up. At least, James is trying to: Lemy doesn’t want him to go back to his wife and baby. Or, indeed, his other girlfriend. And the biggest shame of it all is that they deserve each other: at least, nobody else should deserve to be stuck with either of them.
In the first half of Cameron Corcoran’s Mosquito, Lemy (Aoife Boyle) is clearly in mental distress as her about-to-be-ex taunts her about her condition and her need for medication to keep it in check. He himself is diabetic, and needs regular insulin shots.
Clearly somewhere in here there’s a parable about why one form of chronic illness is seen as acceptable and one is not. But that’s not a tale either Corcoran or director Nicky Allpress seem interested in even hinting at. Instead, they focus on two unpleasant characters being awful to each other. Nearly every line is shouted, allowing for little in the way of nuance, and certainly no way in to identify with or feel empathy for either of the grotesques on stage.
Matters improve somewhat in the play’s second half, set three years later as James awaits the arrival of a prospective nanny for his young son. It is no surprise to see Boyle arrive in the role, and at least this cogent, coherent version of Lemy hints at some much needed character progression. The change in setting brings with it a tonal shift, from uninteresting kitchen sink slanging match to the possibility of James’s philandering chickens coming home to roost.
What we get instead is a stock “woman scorned” psychodrama that shows little progression in the genre since 1980s cinema gave us Fatal Attraction.
Maybe if the play had started here, the schlocky thriller aspects of the piece , however hackneyed, might at least have had some impact, the backstory between the characters coming out slowly to retain our interest. Instead, the tension in wondering whether Lemy is here because she’s turned a corner, has got her life together and has retrained, or whether she’s about to take revenge for a grudge she’s held on to for years, never quite succeeds because Corcoran set out his stall so plainly in the previous scene.
Indeed, everything plays out much as one expects. Brief moments where the two actors are called upon to exhibit the slightest range are few and far between, the duo swiftly returning to the same shouting caricatures that hampered the play’s first half.
As the play reaches its inevitable, loudly signaled climax, one begins to wish that neither horrible person would survive their final confrontation. At least that might have provided a spark of originality.
Continues until 23 July 2022
