Writer: Sophia Chetin-Leuner
Director: Josie Rourke
Plays about alcoholism, drug-taking and gambling have all found homes on the stage. Still, another crippling addiction, this time to violent pornography, finds its home in this unflinching new production, Porn Play.
Sophia Chetin-Leuner’s play centres around Ani (performed brilliantly by the exceptional Ambika Mod), an English university lecturer obsessed with the works of Milton, who, outside of the lecture halls, finds herself indulging further and further in increasingly explicit and violent sexual content. Ani’s professional and personal life, both gripped by her addiction, begin to converge as the piece blurs reality and illusion for Ani and her desires.
Mod’s portrayal of the initially high-functioning addict, professionally successful (an award lingers over her with an interesting sense of dread), yet with a personal life that is flailing, is bold. There is no restraint in this performance. Whether writhing on the floor or under the covers in moments of pleasure, fiercely defending her indulgence in online porn to her disgusted boyfriend or tenderly discussing the death of her mother with her stoic father (Asif Khan), Mod evokes a clear complexity to Ani’s role. It is a neat touch by Chetin-Leuner to make Mod a young, seemingly vibrant, female character, a detachment from the ‘dirty old man’ trope you would come to expect from such a play, and instead, through Mod’s crafting of Ani’s rapid deterioration, the play can make a clear comment on an addiction that is rarely so openly discussed.
It is a piece that does not shy away from its, at times, shocking and disturbing content, though Josie Rourke’s direction clearly steers audiences towards trying to understand and reflect upon Ani’s vices, rather than simply judging. Frequently reaching for her phone or laptop, the play takes a clear stance on the corrupting impact the ease of access to such content has upon Ani, and is plotted well to get through the initial shock factor of hearing moans and groans emanating from her devices, to something more poignant and, by its conclusion, desperately sad.
Yimei Zhao’s design does a lot, too, to help evoke the play’s key ideas, but also integrates audiences into Ani’s intimate life. The stage, and seating, is covered in cream fabric, with the middle of the stage resembling not just a vulva, an on-the-nose nod to Ani’s habits, but also centring around a small circle that resembles a pool. This is a nice tie to Ani’s fascination with the poet John Milton, and a particular passage from Paradise Lost where Eve, from the Genesis story, spots her own reflection in the pool. It is not a particularly subtle metaphor, and in truth, the play does make a little too much of Ani’s obsession with the poet, yet this is a neat design choice that helps to evoke ideas about Ani’s own self-reflections, our own reflections on her and the shared horror that occurs by the play’s end.
Indeed, this is compounded by the decision to reconfigure the space into an intimate in-the-round design, enabling audiences to be voyeurs into Ani’s life. Initially, the unease of our proximity to Ani’s porn evokes some awkward laughs, but this disappears particularly after one shocking and disturbing encounter Ani has with Master’s student Sam (Will Close), which throws up questions of just how far Ani and Chetin-Leuner’s script is willing to go.
Although it is Mod who rightly takes the plaudits for this piece, the tight cast all shine in bringing forward the various parts of Ani’s life, which her addiction interrupts. Close, as well as Sam, is strong as ex-boyfriend Liam, who is essentially cuckolded by Ani’s online habits, while also evoking the disturbing James, a sales exec whose ‘clean living’ at the fleeting visit to an Addicts Anonymous group is more disturbing than healing for Ani.
Meanwhile, Lizzy Connolly works hard across several different roles, including Ani’s doctor and her best friend Jasmine, shining in one particularly impacting scene where, during a sleepover, Ani’s urges get the better of her, much to the silent disgust of her best friend. Quick-fire scenes between multiple different characters enable Ani’s dialogue, and those she speaks to, to blend between the normal and the explicit, enabling Chetin-Leuner’s story to reveal the warping of Ani’s smart mind by the content she has consumed.
The relationship between Ani and her father (performed deftly by an unassuming yet heartbreakingly compassionate Khan), though, is one of the play’s strongest points, leading to a devastating and shocking conclusion, with Ani’s writhing body a stark contrast to her quiet, desperate father attempting to rescue his daughter from the clutches of addiction. It is a poignant conclusion, and lingers long after the lights fade.
Much has been made in the run-up to the play’s opening about the subject matter, and it absolutely does not shy away from forcing characters and audiences to face, head-on, pornography, its content and its effects. It is not a play for the faint-hearted or those of a prudish disposition, yet it is more than just a piece about sex. The gradual and drastic erosion of Ani’s sense of self culminates in a brutally sad climax in a powerful production that forces this taboo subject into the spotlight.
Runs until 13 December 2025
