Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10
Cast: Liam Murphy, Gerard McLaughlin
The pick-up, the slow manoeuvring of time and physical introduction as two sets of eyes meet is a story the world over, sometimes though the need for something beyond the carefree social abandon takes the requirements of dating out of the hands of the participants and into the realm of the arena. Not so much making love on the first date but the greeting of a Spanish crowd to their hero decked in national regalia and the snorting, steam driven worship of a single moment in which The Fuck is all but consuming.
Stuart Crowther’s writing never ceases to enthral and play with illusion, the difference between what the mind wants and how the body sees its duty and the response, whether good, bad or indifferent to the situation it is found to be thrust in. The Fuck is no different, except that in many ways the animalistic beauty that both Liam Murphy and Gerard McLaughlin convey as they explain the randomness of the situation, from pick up to bed and beyond highlight the absolute strength of Mr. Crowther’s writing. The absolute drama in his invention and at his disposal and it is enough to make you see life as it is, brutal, quick, pleasure seeking and hidden by one complete drive, to get down to business of being human in whatever way it happens.
The conversational pattern that drives the play as each man in silhouette describe their pain and emotional stance to each moment gives the performance more than just a dynamic feel, it emphasizes the very nature of the act, that it is so much more than a ritualistic dance, it is more akin to a state of warfare and only when one party has spent its resources does the white flag of surrender get flown.
Stuart Crowther perfectly captures the battle, the dance, and it matters not what connotation, what type of pairing it is, the dance is always the same, from bullish desire to meek surrender, one party will always be less satisfied with the end result than the other.
Intense and unruly, The Fuck should be seen as Stuart Crowther’s young masterpiece.
Ian D. Hall