The blurb on the Duke of York theatre’s website calls this a dark comedy. So maybe I should not be surprised that members of the audience are laughing out loud. But I cannot seem to join in. The play opens up to a scene that immediately brings 1984 to mind – two police officers abusing a prisoner without clarifying what the accusation is. But the prisoner is no Winston Smith – it is a fragile, quivering woman, it is Lily Allen. I find it hard to see the comedy in two policemen brutally assaulting a woman.

And I think that fundamentally that is the problem – the role of Katurian should not be re-gendered. The play already struggles with the numerous themes it touches on but does not seem to have the capacity to fully explore, further obscuring those themes by introducing this angle only leads to further confusion.

There is the issue of a totalitarian state – not sure that it is a needed backdrop for police brutality; we have plenty of that in fully fledged democracies as is. It may be needed to highlight the restrictions faced by artists, and specifically writers, who are denied freedom of expression. This theme is trailed but it is not truly taken forward. I would argue that with today’s cancel culture, writers will face the same challenges, though the play had its first reading in 2003, when things weren’t quite that bad.

And let us not forget the underlying theme of the stories themselves – very, very clever actually, and aimed at shocking you with their brutality. But if you have read American Psycho, or even Brothers Grimm, they are not really that outrageous. I guess because what is lacking is an explanation of what the violence is meant to achieve: we know its origin but we are unclear about its purpose. Whilst the stories are clever, most of them are just that – they do not seem to carry with them a message, a message worth saving.

Which brings me to the issue of an artist’s legacy and an artist’s inspiration – I am unclear whether this play argues that in truth a tortured life is necessary for greatness, or whether the exact opposite is true? Is its stance that an artist is at one with their art, or is it suggesting that it is absurd to choose death and preservation of ones work, over life and the ability to recreate it. Katurian after all knows all the stories off by heart, having spent years reading and re-telling them to her brother. And there comes the next issue that is not fully fleshed out – is it morally wrong to write macabre stories, lest they inspire someone to re-enact them?

You could say it is a good thing that all these deep ideas are thrown at the audience. It does not however feel that way. I cannot say having never read the play, whether the fault lies with the director or the script itself. It may also lie with the acting. A frail Katurian, who sometimes seems to stand up to her tormentors and sometimes just accepts the blows is equally as fragmented and inconsistent as the entire play. More so, if a play is re-gendered, it needs to be done thoroughly. This is not about an actress playing a man, this is a male role becoming female. And yet the story of the Writer and his Brother is not changed to ‘a Writer and his Sister.’ I think I know why, but that does not make it right. There was a reason why they were brothers to begin with.

Do I regret going to see this play? No, I seldom feel that way about spending an evening at the theatre. In this case I really enjoyed the performance of the two policemen. I cannot decide whether I am a bigger fan of Tuploski or of Ariel. I also absolutely loved the set – the opening scene when the room looms into the audience is quite something. As is the manner in which we are transported into a different world for the telling of some of the stories. But I am not convinced that this play deserves the accolades it got. And as far as this performance of it is concerned, the re-gendering and casting of an actress who seems not to have understood the character that she was playing does not exactly help.