Dead Outdoorsy. Drayton Arms Theatre.

Polly, the gregarious but dim hero of Molly Barton’s offbeat one woman coming-of-age comedy Dead Outdoorsy, faces two main challenges. The first is with men, specifically how to find one amongst the many she has sex with to respect, even love her. The second revolves around finding something productive to do about the climate crisis. Over the course of an often very funny 60-minutes Polly comes to conclude these challenges are intertwined; men treat her with the same casual disregard that mankind metes out to the Earth. The solution to Polly’s twin conundrums involves learning to respect herself as much as she loves the world around her.

There is a scene mid-way through Dead Outdoorsy in which Polly watches a TV nature documentary about a predatory wolf-pack hunting down a jackrabbit. There is a metaphor here for Polly’s sex life, although whether she is the hunter or the prey is not entirely obvious. Dressed in a succession of tiger-striped dresses and leopard-spotted coats Polly sets out to seduce many of the men she encounters with rapacious, feline glee. Amongst others there is Gareth the school rugby hunk who ends up as her gay best friend. Then there is vile classmate Johnny who calls her a “slag” and dumps her for arch-nemesis Tracy. Stephen, her boss at the garden centre enjoys a fair few trysts atop the stacks of garden compost. Zookeeper Ben delves into the boyfriend zone but soon moves on to better things. A South African game warden with the look of a “pound shop Matt Damon” does not hang around long either.

Polly recounts her sexual adventures with a breathless enthusiasm that barely conceals her confusion at why so many of the men she encounters seem to gaslight her afterwards. What keeps her up at night is not her inner despair but worry about the environmental impact of her condom consumption and body hair depilation. That all her meaningless shagging might be getting in the way of the kind of relationship she really wants takes a long time to sink in. Barton’s cleverly written protagonist may be flawed and self-deluding, but she is also big-hearted, garrulous, and deeply believable. When her epiphany finally comes, aided by an unseen relationship-counsellor who has trouble keeping up with her client’s sex life, you cannot help but root for her.

Barton’s effervescent performance as Polly is as good as her writing. Sparky direction from Cara Vaitilingam ensures the momentum never palls.

Writer: Molly Barton

Director: Cara Vaitilingam