Review: PUPPY, King's Head Theatre

Following The Audiovisual Media Services Regulation 2014, several acts were banned from explicit content filmed in the United Kingdom. This was done under the radar in a legislative change that resulted in a face-sitting protest in Westminster. The “face-sitters” protested that this bill was, in essence, sexual censorship, an interference in the private lives of an entire nation (the regulations were reviewed in 2019 after a review of obscenity laws). Naomi Westerman takes the incident and makes it the climax of her play. Jaz and Maya fall in love when Jaz joins Maya’s regular dogging group.

Safe in their bubble of liberated passion and firm boundaries, their relationship blossoms into starting their own porn company. The threat of the new legislation isn’t the only thing that threatens their partnership. Puppy celebrates sexual freedom with an amusing look at the dogging community that also covers the state of the porn industry and ambiguous eroticism. It’s half socio-political commentary, half tender rom-com. Directed by Kayla Feldman, this abridged version might be a bit all over the place structurally, but it’s actively entertaining and genuinely thought-provoking.

Soft lighting, many huge pillows, and a few car seats in a set designed by Rosin Jenner welcome the audience into the auditorium. It’s an inviting view. What ensues consists of heavily curated, fully clothed bodies carrying out extravagant movements that imply extravagant sex. Their delicious suburban deviancy sets the mood. Richard and Susan (Ian Hallard and Tia Dunn): the older posh couple whose marriage has been saved by dogging. They’re ambivalent about their son’s being a Tory MP, but accept him anyway. Dave and his wife Sandra (Ed Larkin and Maria Austin): he moonlights as the author of a popular erotic murder mystery series. Maya (Amy Revelle): a volunteer librarian who’s also a very famous pornstar. Jaz (Ashling O’Shea): a freelance accountant who uses the library a lot.

There seems to be a clear division in the piece. We start off with the delicate, cautious first steps of a new relationship whose getting-to-know stage plays out against the picture of consensual non-monogamy, while characters learn French or deliver disability awareness corporate training. The script flips suddenly and we go from talking about dogging and the beauty of boundaries to a detailed rundown of the issues within the porn industry. It only works because Westerman is a fantastic writer. Her crisp dialogues offer information with sophisticated turns of phrase, layered with empathy and humanity. The chemistry in her wording blooms with Feldman’s consciously sensitive direction and her wonderfully cohesive cast. They work as an ensemble and, much like in dogging, they share the scene well.

Even as it is, with its overload of plot, the play works. The deadpan risqué humour coexists with a straighter critique of late stage capitalism and the subject is racy enough to titillate a variety of audiences. From side-stepping problematic fetishes and normalising non-monogamy, Westman’s writing has a way of compelling you into enthusiastic support. 

Read our interview with writer Naomi Westerman here.

Puppy runs at the King's Head Theatre until 27 April.