'GO FERAL LIKE THE BIG DOGS': A 60 MINUTE PANIC ATTACK I ONLY WISH LASTED LONGER
- Reda Belhadfa
- 5 minutes ago
- 4 min read
Critic Reda Belhadfa is not in the habit of giving easy wins. Here, she reflects on why Josh Gordon's Go Feral Like the Big Dogs at the Union Theatre earned one anyway for its unsparing portrait of work, loneliness, and moral compromise in contemporary London.
Have mercy on me, people of Rome! Gladiatorial blood sport that theatre review may well be, every once in a while we have to mercifully tuck in our thumbs and give a positive review. Yes, there shall be no blood today dear readers, but know, given my penchant for a back-alley whacking of a takedown, that the following review was hard earned.
I was invited to take in Go Feral Like the Big Dogs (great title, good start) at the Union Theatre in Southwark. The Union is an interesting spot, a small theatre that can sit 58 comfortably, and 59 uncomfortably. Nestled softly on the lap of the person sat next to me (his name is John and I think and we’re in love now), the lights dim, and we launch directly into our play.
Post-punk guitar blares, and a woman comes in, legs kicking (one might say akimbo) before abruptly stopping. Ok, confusing. Rachel (played by Maddie Frutig), our protagonist then dives into a remarkable (even by my high standards) stream of expletives that made me both laugh and blush, against the better angels of my nature. Now we’re cooking with fire.
We find ourselves in the hot, fast paced world of aviation insurance. As you are a learned and seasoned audience, I am sure that no explantation of the intricacies of the aviation insurance industry will be necessary, nor will one be given. I appreciate this, one could hardly expect an audience to sit through a lecture on premiums, but suffice to say plane crashes are bad.
The play follows Rachel and her boss, complete banker-wanker type, gilet and all, Alex (played by Josh Gordon) as they wade through the morally murky waters of gross negligence, corruption, and the loss of humanity in the bleak capitalist hellscape that is London. This all culminates, without giving too much away, in a plane crash. But that, surprisingly, is not where the meat of the play lies.
More than anything, this play represents one of the most heart-wrenchingly accurate reflections on the bone crushing, workaday loneliness and isolation of London life since Bridget Jones. A world where we speed through relationships with the unsatisfying, the unsuitable, and the downright unpleasant, tolerate pub nights with morons and an occasional tube groping in order to simply try our hand at grasping for the brass ring, before inevitably falling off our wooden chargers.
I can honestly say that Rachel's monologue at the end of the play, in which she has clearly sacrificed her humanity in order to finally by heard in a world of stuffed corporate suits moved me nearly to tears. It felt real, and in many ways, relatable. How I’ve felt for a long time in industries, even creative ones, where one (rarely men, I should point out) has to prove their merit time and time again to people who don’t or shouldn't matter only to be ignored. Our clear protagonist, a tragic figure with smatterings of Lady Macbeth and Phoebe Waller Bridge’s Fleabag, Rachel stole our hearts and the spotlight. Frutig's performance has truly earned my standing ovation.
In many ways, making a play about an industry that doesn’t really seem to matter highlights best the issues of the great grinding cogs of our society and our city, and I applaud Gordon for his writing which reflects this so elegantly. Writing a two-hander is hard, one has to keep it punchy, lest we fall into the bog of endless monologuists and anime-esque characters that explain every obvious plot point in mind numbing detail. And coming in at just over ran hour in run time, Go Feral Like the Big Dogs does not overstay it’s welcome. Our two characters are believable, relatable and earnest (without being off-putting, a hard balance to strike) and the play follows a well structured 4 act layout, of which I am always a fan. Any minor issues I could take with the play, wether it be better costuming or set design, are extremely explicable given their tight budget, and I am sure director Poppy Sutch would be more than able to fix given a bit more financial leeway.
Now, normally, I’d tell you to run not walk to buy tickets to see Go Feral Like the Big Dogs, but seeing as it has already sold out for it’s brief run at the Union, I instead implore you to keep your eyes peeled. I am sure a revival is in store for this small production, and I welcome the day when Rachel and Alex will once again grace the stages of our beautifully bleak city, and our imaginations.
Reda Belhadfa is a London-based script writer and critic.