There is a moment a third a way into Fergus Fords play when the lights dim, the comedy darkens and the plot takes a sharp and unsettling swerve into territory already occupied by the Hostel and Saw franchises.
Stu and Alex wake up in bed, chained together by the wrists, neither professing to know what happened the night before. One them does of course, and it would be unfair to give away much else. It is a bold step to try and emulate the torture theme on a stage just metres away from the audience. That it doesnt entirely succeed is largely the fault in the premise. At close quarters, the buckling DVD player makes an unconvincing weapon (try and bend one), and the more lethal of the two, perhaps thankfully for all concerned, misses its mark.
Theres no denying that the piece is visceral and makes for an uncomfortably riveting hour, but what this story of male rape and revenge really needs is make you care. Lee Hunter and James Ashton in the roles of protagonist and victim do their best with this material, but the old adage that he who seeks revenge should dig two graves never ran true here. Irony and compassion are sadly lacking and the absence of a curtain call, for understandably practical reasons, only alienated this reviewer.
