Review of ‘Unicorn’: “Barely topping ‘Afterglow’”

London’s Garrick Theatre welcomes the world premiere of Mike Barlett’s newest play, exploring society’s conventions while challenging the true meaning of love and family. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this tale of a throuple manages to adopt a good posture for all that’s coming in it.

We all want to get along with each other – the a-longer, the better… You know where this is heading (*smirk*). I’m no saint to judge. I may have even opened the Yellow Facebook (more like Pecbook, though) and be shocked by the amount of homosexuals you can find in a theatre – and how many in my… area… were online right before the performance. Now that’s a nice gag – however you want to interpret that.

From the man who gave us C*ck (there have been a few in my case, I’m afraid) comes a new comedy pushing (we had a lot of that) the boundaries of conventional relationships and the understanding of love and commitment – or so its says. Under the title of Unicorn, a sexual term allegedly given to women looking to engage in a threesome with a married straight couple, Mike Barlett’s latest play flaunts all the elements of his usual writing style – but not necessarily having each one of them in their best shape.

Returning to his “dry farce” trademark, Barlett proposes an in-depth (no pun intended) observation on the clashes of human desire against the societal norm – what we genuinely wish for opposed to what we are supposed or told to. It’s not the most original premise, in all fairness – then again, there’s hardly anything that a gay man hasn’t already seen, tried or tasted… in the theatre… Nobody is buying that one, right? Yet, a well-structured story, added to a pungently sharp dialogue, could very much clear up that mild absence of inventiveness. Luckily enough, we’re not deprived of that phenomenon in this one – but only partially.

It’s not way until the plot takes a stride further on that we truly experience motion and rhythm. For the most part of Act One, the recount looks too stationary – entertaining to some extent, but lacking the acidity and fast-paced wit we’ve so much revered in Barlett’s previous endeavours.

With a questionable show-stopper closer to an inner turning point than an actual divider, the second part restores the author’s efforts to his signature brilliance for a respectable amount of time – it’s pithier, more bitter, and ardently satirical. Sadly, though, that joy can only last so long – as right when we hit the remaining closing half, we return to a mirror image of that initial subpar; at some moments, even going below the line the script itself has drawn.

There is not sufficient arc to make the characters resonate with the viewer quite properly. There’s verity in them, but it’s all muddled by an air of prototypical quality they never seem to stop breathing from. They are a channel for Barlett’s tongue-in-cheek comments (usually, amusing and thought-provoking), but they never get to be one for themselves. They are not individuals, but pawns employed with some level of ingeniousness – who struggle to flaunt much personality to allow us to echo their journey.

Feeling exceedingly rushed at too many moments, the aftertaste we’re left with is spiced with a strong sense of unfulfillment – not the best thing when we’re dealing with sex-related matters. In some way, it appears to be underdeveloped – almost as if the writer was in a hurry to finish than letting his own creation speak.

There’s a refreshing degree of contrast when it comes to the production’s values, all of which are executed with overall ease and grace. Directed by James MacDonald, its simple but dynamic set design (credit to Miriam Buether) delivers a smooth, seamless flow that’s elegantly complemented by Natasha Chivers’s visually quaint lighting.

Simultaneously, its three-handed cast (formed by A-list names Nicola Walker, Stephen Mangan, and Erin Doherty) manage to make some impact by exuding middling chemistry as well as organic humorousness. Nonetheless, we still get the impression of their portrayals being slightly corseted – never sounding unnatural, but neither displaying enough reassurance that the actor is in full connection with their role.

Research shows that we think about our duties in bed on average of 10 times a day. The interest in the subject is more than proven – so is our ability to lie when we take a survey (pervs). Exploring societal taboos is always an enticing topic, and it sets the grounds for a conceivably stimulating and much arousing evening. But in 2025, there’s little more than a piece oozing too many 90s/early 2000s vibes can do.

Regardless of how much they may talk of it, the edge never comes to fruition in a script that thinks of itself as playful and scampish, but which in reality is too innocent and wholesome (stress the “w”). Consequently, Unicorn will give audiences a chance to for some nice, occasional laughs weaved altogether by a very fine thread. But in terms of the perspicacity, shock, and flavour that have built Barlett’s brand, the compliance in this one will remain, much like its title, a horned fantasy.

All pictures credit to Marc Brenner.

Unicorn plays at London’s Garrick Theatre until 25 April. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara