Consent, a new play by Nina Raine which premiered at the National Theatre last year, is a biting dark comedy about what lies underneath and in between the lies that people tell each other and themselves. As the play opens, we see Kitty and Ed celebrating their move to a new house and the birth of their baby with another couple, Rachel and Jake. As the friends, three of whom are lawyers, loudly discuss the various rape and criminal cases they are trying, while holding a real baby, we sense that this play is not going to be an easy ride. Although each character is interesting, intelligent and funny, they are not particularly likeable and are incredibly privileged. As soon as Jake and Rachel have departed, Kitty and Ed surmise that something is wrong in their friends’ marriage. Sure enough, the next time we see the group of friends gathered together, this time with Tim, a prosecutor and Zara, an actress they are trying to match him up with, Rachel is absent. It is soon revealed that she has thrown out Jake as she suspects him of having an affair, which he denies wholeheartedly to everyone who will listen, until he eventually confesses to many dalliances, saying it kept the marriage alive. As Ed and Kitty try to intervene, they find themselves taking opposite sides along gender lines. Kitty is aghast when Rachel eventually takes Jake back, a reunion orchestrated by Ed. Meantime, cracks in their own marriage start to show: in a scene where Tim and Ed are helping Zara to research a role, Tim censures Ed for flirting with Zara. He denies it and in turn accuses Tim of being attracted to Kitty. The real problem, however, is Kitty can never forgive Ed for an affair he had five years ago.
Interspersed with all this is a rape case that is being tried with Tim as the prosecutor and Ed defending the accused, whom we never see, witnessing only his harsh cross examination of the victim, Gayle. She keeps trying to tell them what happened but is told to stick to her original statement and finds herself torn apart by brutal questioning about her drinking and sexual history. We never do hear the whole story and it never seems important to the lawyers involved, even when a distraught Gayle turns up at their New Year celebrations, asking why her personal history was ripped apart and examined while her rapist’s was left untouched. For these lawyers, it is just one more horrible trial to get through. As the play goes on, and we see Ed continually putting the rules of the law above all else and dismissing emotional involvement, we understand when Kitty blows up at him for having no empathy. She says that he spends his life lying, defending criminals and rapists and it’s turned him into an unfeeling, heartless person. Later on, we see quite a different side to Ed as Kitty decides to exact her revenge so that he will know what it feels like to be cheated on. His rage and tears are the stuff of Greek tragedy, earlier referenced by Zara doing a production of Medea.
What follows next brings up yet again the question of consent as Kitty accuses Ed of rape and surprisingly Jake, who earlier had his own wailing and gnashing of teeth, takes her side while his wife sympathises with Ed.
This is a complicated play with complex, familiar characters. Ed is the sort of person who just always has to be right, no matter what the consequences. Jake is no better and both of them seem to belong to a club where their own self-belief outweighs any ethical code. They freely lie, philander and demean others and are shocked when they are caught out and punished. Tim at first appears very different to them, a kind man whom Zara initially dismisses as probably “gay” and “a bit victim-y” before eventually getting into a relationship with him. Compared to the bombastic, aggressive masculinity of Ed and Jake, he seems gentle and thoughtful. However, we question his motives in having an affair with Kitty; does he really love her or is it revenge on the bullying Ed? The women in these couples are no mere helpless victims and display as much rage and fury as the men. Kitty, who is probably the most sympathetic, hurls a kettle at Ed as she accuses him of having no empathy, a clever reference to Tim’s earlier story of a kettle flying across the room in his poltergeist haunted flat.
There is a nice balance of humour undercutting tragedy throughout the play. As the emotionally out of control Ed weeps with fury at Kitty’s betrayal, he says he hasn’t cried that much since prep school. When Jake thinks he is unjustly thrown out by Rachel, he says he is “basically being bullied”. These men are ridiculous at times and don’t seem to be aware of it, despite their extreme intelligence.
The cast are uniformly superb as is Roger Michel’s direction. Adam James as Jake and Stephen Campbell Moore as Ed, perfectly embody their entitled, self-righteous lawyer characters who also show a tender side as they are first seen holding a tiny, actual baby in the first scene. These are men who will fight to the death for their children, the only way they know how to show real love. Claudie Blakley is excellent as the dissatisfied and occasionally fierce Kitty, the only one who seems to have any morals until she decides to give Ed a taste of his own medicine. Equally good are Lee Ingleby as the awkward Tim, Sian Clifford as Rachel, Clare Foster as Zara and Heather Craney as Gayle.
This play will provoke much conversation and leave people debating the many issues raised as well as the controversial ending. It’s a disturbing yet entertaining and satisfying evening at the theatre. Consent is one of the best new plays I have seen in a very long time.
Top image: Claudie Blakley (Kitty) and Stephen Campbell Moore (Ed). Consent at the Harold Pinter Theatre. Photographer credit Johan Persson Bottom image: Clare Foster (Zara) and Claudie Blakley (Kitty) - Consent at the Harold Pinter Theatre - Photographer credit Johan Persson.