You’ve been scammed

The NT’s new play is an update of Pamela, a sexploitation novel by Samuel Richardson. It opens with Stephen Dillane and Cate Blanchett stranded in a concrete garage dressed as French maids. On one side, a black Audi saloon. Mid-stage, colourful blinking lights. At the edges, four other actors lurking. The main characters have no names so let’s call them Stephen and Cate. Who are they? Adulterous workmates, or a divorcing couple, or a male boss and his abused underling? The script reveals nothing about their characters, their backgrounds, their location or their intentions, and the audience’s natural reaction to this indifference is further indifference.

Stephen and Cate grapple physically and deliver a lot of speeches about abuse and humiliation, but their dialogue isn’t supported by any hint of carnal attraction. It’s like watching a hornet mating with a Polo Mint. They swap costumes and identities. He dons her blonde wig and becomes a she. She wears his grey suit and becomes a he. Nothing becomes clearer. They tumble about on the back seat of the Audi simulating sex while two female voyeurs in school uniform watch. Are these Stephen’s daughters? Not sure.

Between each scene, the players move to new positions in slow motion as if to remind us that the first job of art is to inflict boredom on the beholder. And the show doesn’t restrict its cruelty to the audience. A beautiful plump actress has to endure the charmless query ‘why are you so fat?’ from Stephen. He then gets lured into a fight with a strapping bodybuilder twice his weight and half his age. Yet Stephen wins. Towards the end, Cate dons a vast white bridal gown like a puff of mist. The defeated bodybuilder is summoned to pay his respects and he savagely masturbates Cate while she recites another speech and fakes an orgasm.