Robert Tanitch reviews Rabbits at Park Theatre, Finsbury Park, London N4
A rabbit isn’t necessarily a mammal, it could be a policeman, a patron, a newborn baby, a simpleton, a victim, a poor player (especially in golf and tennis), even a male homosexual
Who is your favourite fictional rabbit? The White Rabbit? Peter Rabbit? Br’er Rabbit? Roger Rabbit? Thumper (in Bambi)? Bugs Bunny? Or is it Harvey, the invisible rabbit, visible only to an alcoholic James Stewart?
David Schaal and Alex Ferns in Rabbits
And then there is Watership Down and the novels of John Updike. And who can ever forget what Glenn Close did to the rabbit in the film thriller Fatal Attraction. Run, rabbit, run, run.
Joe Hampson, the writer of Skins and the author of Rabbits, wonders what couples do behind closed doors. He says his black comedy is an attempt to present a normal couple in a normal relationship and argues that the only thing that can define a normal relationship is that it is strange, dysfunctional and unique.
Sadie Spencer, the director, says the play throws up a question about how far we should go in fulfilling our darkest fantasies and where to draw the line.
A marriage is on the rocks and husband and wife are seeing a psychiatrist. What is it that keeps them together?
The play opens with a man offering a stranger £2,000 to kill a pet rabbit, a present from his wife. The man loathes the rabbit and the rabbit loathes him. The stranger, a big bellied psychopath in his underpants, has already killed a horse and he has a suitable weapon, a baseball bat.
Hampson rabbits on for 95 minutes, the characters acting out their fantasies. The actors – Alex Ferns, David Schaal, Karen Ascoe – are good and Ferns does a surprising and convincing transformation from volatile psychopath to sober, quietly spoken psychiatrist.
But the play, however, should stop after the first scene. All that follows is very boring.
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