Review of ‘The Sex Lives of Puppets’: “Evening wood”

Mark Down and Ben Keaton’s heavy-loaded comedy returns to the Southwark Playhouse this month, bringing back the laughs (and a good bunch of moans) through the whole inter-course of the performance. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this mastur-ful piece of theatre is actually hard to swallow.

I have a thing for adult content – to the point that it would be sensible to say I’ve seen every kind of it. You name a genre – I could probably name a piece or two (possibly, even threesome). To be fair, nothing tops the exploration of the human core when it’s done through a deep look into their insights. I, myself, love to pour my own stream of personal substance every day – unapologetic to be too blunt (but never short or quick) before somebody else’s face.

Yet, today’s play has nothing to do with the above. All the philosophical, oeuvre d’auteur material I was mentioning has been replaced by a showcase of kink-essentially British humour depicting the ups and downs (literally) of regular people’s sexual journeys (meaning their life paths, not that sort of tourism, you little pigs). The title leaves little room for speculation (and even less for imagination). But fortunately enough (unless, of course, if you’re into a different style of habit…), the play doesn’t come (no pun intended) as an over-promise: you will definitely see puppets having some bedroom fun.

Written by Mark Down and Ben Keaton, the show spreads the word (and everybody’s legs) about the joys and lows of intimacy (well, except for the lesbian couple being so open -*cough*- about their… fluid relationship). Truly uproarious at some moments, while also surprisingly introspective at others, its versatility (cut it out… no, NOT THAT!!!) is one of its most arousing traits – providing audiences with more than plain filthy, comedy, and endowing (*smirk*) its characters with enough depth and individuality to erect themselves above their handjobs (what? that’s how marionettes work…) and become the spitting image (there’s a lot of that, too…) of reality.

A Willy Wanka factory of gruesomely amusing jokes, channelled through ocassionally entertaining stories, the performance is delivered with excellent timing and XL-size flair. However, despite the organic flow (quit it now) of the script, there’s still some slight impotence haunting all throughout. And while some sketches are able to poke (fun) with absolute success, many also struggle to cause much more than a forced chuckle – flaunting genuineness as for their themes, but missing that G-iddy spot that would bring the scene to its unrealized climax.

Regardless of such tiny bumps (those are always a disappointment, though), you won’t leave the theatre feeling as if you’ve been left halfway done. Yes, it’s true that some parts can get a little rough and stiff (happens to me all the time), but however unpolished some excerpts may look, it’s still a much enjoyable ride about… well, people riding each other – and, in some manner, it manages to provoke some slight thinking and understanding about a topic which, though maybe no longer a big taboo, still seems to be restrained by the morality of the public discourse. It will take no limits at letting it all its ideas out – and hopefully, some of its stuff will end up stuck (or maybe shoved) into you.

P.S. – I know you were expecting a Pinnochio-related pun, but I thought it was wrong to put my finger in an underaged character… Dang it!

All pictures credit to Charlina Lucas.

The Sex Lives of Puppets plays at London’s Southwark Playhouse Borough until 28 September. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara