Jack (Graham O’Hara) was born with an Asperger’s-like learning disability, but has the needs of any other red-blooded male in his twenties. His parents, Alistair (Christopher Adams) and Antonia (Clare Lawrence-Moody), are keen to see them met. So they sit him down into front of some internet porn, and recruit Kitty (Florence Roberts), a prostitute who can help him get the messy business of losing his virginity out of the way, hoping it will help him find a girlfriend.
Playwright Sarah Page has based much of this around research, and her extensive interviews with sex workers certainly show in Kitty’s character: not the gobby madam in the leopard-print skirt that lazier writers might have gone with, but someone educated, aware and unapologetic about her line of work. But as the play continues, and tensions begin to open between the four, it starts to lose its focus. Is this about a disabled adult struggling against the misguided love of his parents? The realities of sex work, and the freedoms it can offer to cash-strapped millennials? The toll that caregiving takes on a marriage? Being about all, it doesn't quite do any of them sufficient justice.
Roberts stands out in a nuanced role, juggling strength and vulnerability. Amelia Jane Hankin’s minimal set – LCD lights marking out a bay window – makes for an interesting alternate to the high-end furniture and hessian throws you might expect for a well-heeled suburban home, and is neatly matched by Owen Crouch’s pulsing electronic score. Page is to be commended for searching for novel and roundabout ways of dealing with her themes. They all just fight for space a little too much.