Chekhov’s Dildo. The Hope Theatre

Russian playwright and author Anton Chekhov once said “One must never place a loaded rifle on the stage if it isn’t going to go off. It’s wrong to make promises you don’t mean to keep.” The principle applies to any theatrical detail, including in the case of Rex Fisher’s middling revenge comedy for the #MeToo generation, a prosthetic penis. In Chekhov’s Dildo the said item, of which a notably impressive example is introduced in the first act, is indeed used in the third act. Mercifully it is not utilised for its primary purpose. In fact, without revealing too much of the plot it is fair to say the rubber phallus is more red herring than revolver.

Chekhov’s Dildo is set in the messy book-strewn bedroom of Rufus (Ruaridh Aldington), a university lecturer with a specialism in Russian dialectical linguistics and a raging desire to get academic tenure. His other main passions are Chekhov (his novels are on the floor and there is a seagull suspended above his bed) and bedding freshers. He has just passed a pleasant evening with erstwhile girlfriend and one-time undergraduate Annabel (Olivia Barrowclough), whose genitals he describes as her ‘Cherry Orchard’. They are enjoying some passionate morning lovemaking. It is not often the phrase “Cup my balls” appears as the opening line of a play, but it certainly communicates the writer’s intent. So far, so rom-com goofy.

But this is not just a case of, as Rufus calls it, ex-lovers “tying up loose ends”. Things are about to get darker. Annabel nurses a sense of bitter grievance against the lecherous lecturer for seducing her, breaking up with her, and then failing her classwork. What follows are twists and turns aplenty in a narrative that makes a respectable and intermittently funny stab at interrogating patriarchy, power, and sexual consent in the university setting. Opinions will vary as to which of Fisher’s two comedic characters is the least likable or indeed whether Annabel’s urge for revenge is justified. If Fisher is aiming to incite a #MeToo style debate with Chekhov’s Dildo then he can justifiably claim some success, although the tone of the piece feels a tad derivative.

The production’s main problem lies in the casting choices. Aldington is a talented actor, but he is way too young to be credible as a professor on the verge of tenure. It is Barrowclough’s sharp-witted and spiky Annabel who comes across as the older and more mature of the two. The power differential between the two characters, surely a central element in any story about abuse, never feels remotely realistic or credible. The story feels unreal.

Writer: Rex Fisher

Director: Merle Wheldon-Posner