The inspiration for D. C. Moore’s nicely squirm-inducing play is an American film, Humpday. Lynn Shelton’s low-budget movie celebrates male competitiveness but its title won’t mean much to a British audience: Humpday is Wednesday, the middle of the week and an obstacle to surmount en route to the nirvana of the weekend.
In Moore’s adaptation gawky Lewis shares a studio flat with his wife Morgan (sparky Jessica Ransom). They seem happy and well attuned, yet it’s an existence of stifling predictability. That changes with the arrival of Waldorf, a friend of Lewis’s from student days. Appearing out of the blue after seven years abroad, he makes quite an entrance, dangling his member through the letterbox.
Soon he’s shaking up the lives of all around him. Lewis envies Waldorf’s freedom; as if to assert his own independence, he agrees to the two of them starring in a homemade porn film — never mind that neither of them is gay.
Although it’s a contrived situation, Richard Wilson’s humane and witty production features finely judged performances. Henry Pettigrew captures Lewis’s mix of conservatism and recklessness, while Philip McGinley shows Waldorf’s bravado turning into sensitivity. There are implausible moments, and some topical references to Michael Gove look set to age badly. But Moore writes acutely about masculinity, trust and the numbing effects of social responsibility.
Until Dec 22 (020 8743 5050, bushtheatre.co.uk)
