"A bumpy, meandering ride with a horny woman who is pedalling madly and forgetting to brake."
Penelope Skinner's indelicate portrayal of a newly pregnant young English couple who move to a small village, is brash and hilarious, yet unexpectedly dark and revelatory. The Village Bike is a play that challenges conventional thinking around sexual morality and motherhood, taking its audience on a bumpy, meandering ride with a horny woman who is pedalling madly and forgetting to brake.
Becky (Gabrielle Scawthorn) is just barely pregnant - not showing yet - but instead of the luminous joy associated with expectant mothers, she is displaying a neon-lit lust. Her husband John (Benedict Wall), on the other hand has been rendered mentally and physically impotent by his literary preoccupation with birth, babies and gestational behaviour.
Porn and masturbation aren't enough to quench Becky's raging sexual thirst and so she looks elsewhere. Enter: the suave, virile Oliver (Rupert Reid), the village philanderer. He sells Becky his wife's neglected bicycle, and, while his wife is away, he does a little bit of tinkering on the bike and a lot of tinkering on Becky.
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Though Becky has convinced herself that this is purely physical, her true sentimentality reveals itself when Oliver's wife returns and he abruptly ends the affair.
Rejection and desperation lead her to turn her attention to Mike the plumber (Jamie Oxenbould), who has already indicated more than a professional interest in her "sweaty pipes". He's delighted by her request to film their encounter, but alas for Mike, Becky's interest in him is only as a tool for revenge. She sends the video to Oliver in a misguided attempt to evoke jealousy. It takes a sobering face-off with Oliver's wife, Alice (Kate Bookallil) before Becky begins to realise her folly.
Jenny (Sophie Gregg), is the all too helpful neighbour and sit-com styled comic relief. Overwrought with two young boisterous children and a never-present husband, she is desperate for connection - and wine, showing up with clockwork bad timing and a bounty of second-hand baby goods.
Skinner's dialogue is witty, cheeky and crass, and yet there is a hint of subtext. On the surface, the characters may seem conventional, comprised predominantly of their plot-serving traits, but there is a pervading sense of backstory for each of the characters. Beyond their obvious intent, it's possible to discern a real existence, allowing you to feel empathy for them. This is in no small way due to the incredible, nuanced performances.
Scawthorn is fiery and intense as Becky, but brings heart-wrenching pathos to the character as well. Wall plays John as if he were a children's show presenter, gently spoken, unflappable. But there is just enough ambiguity to make you question his naivety. Oxenbould is a comic-tragic Mike, a hapless pawn in a spiteful act of vengeance...maybe.
Reid's Oliver may not be quite as fancy-free as he'd like to think, not where wife Alice, played with cool malevolence by Bookallil, is concerned. And Gregg's Jenny might know, intend, do, or intend to do much more than she lets on.
The title has an obvious double meaning, but the symbolism of the bike goes beyond the obvious. It represents freedom, rebellion, betrayal, sexuality, risk, and falling over. Skinner also uses pregnancy to juxtapose different sexual experiences: love-making and life-making versus masturbation, porn, infidelity, revenge, and impotence.
Anna Gardiner and Martelle Hunt have worked wonders with the set and the very limited space of The Old Fitz Theatre. The dual level house with bedroom upstairs, kitchen downstairs and a side path just seen through the kitchen window, creates the sense of the stifling domesticity felt by Becky. The side and front of stage are used to represent other locations, such as Oliver's place and the open road on which Becky rides her bike. Having all settings ever present connects Becky's worlds shows her inability to truly escape.
The cycling scenes are very effective and in fact, may represent the only time Becky can be alone and free. It's an absorbing and entertaining couple of hours of theatre, living up to the standards set by Redline Productions. Seating in the Old Fitz is limited, so don't leave it too late. And wear a helmet!
Red Line Productions present Village Bike till 8 Jul at the Old Fitz Theatre