SLUTNIK ™ 2: Planet of the Incels

SLUTNIK™ 2 is (obviously) the sequel to SLUTNIK™ 1 and fans of SLUTNIK™ 1 – of whom there are many, judging by the gleeful opening night audience for SLUTNIK™ 2 – will know the backstory.

For beginners, in SLUTNIK™ 1, one hundred years ago a legendary crew of lesbian space cannibals [plus robot MOTHERBOARD] left Earth to escape the patriarchy. 

Now, their descendants, or one of them, Space Slut/Andromeda (Sara Reed) - plus MOTHERBOARD (Matilda Gibbs) - are forced to land their failing spacecraft on a foreign planet on which they find the very thing they set out to escape: Men.  Well, worse than mere men.  Incels.  But… these Incels have been imprisoned in the Dome by evil lesbians.  As well as sexually compliant women, these Incels also want to escape.  To do that they need the weapons they assume the visitors have.  They offer an unacceptable deal…

Matilda Gibbs is a marvellous robotic MOTHERBOARD – possibly the reason to see the show.  Sara Reed, meanwhile, is the suitably ambivalent and confused Andromeda confronting a whole new experience – the Incel Men.  They (Ben Ashby, Ethan Morse, Michael Cooper, William Strom and Benji Smith) all recognisable man-boy types, together make up, as per the program, ‘a never seen before and never-to-be-repeated stunt in the SLUTNIK universe: an ensemble of men on stage’. 

As targets of satire, of course, Incels are sitting ducks, but as entertainment and theatre, they just about end up stealing this show, beginning with their Magic Mike style dance numbers (great choreography by Mia Tuco) that contrast so sharply with their sad attempts to speak.  Their interactions and negotiations and attempted manipulations make up the dramatic meat of the show – and provide ways to explore (although perhaps not at any great depth) sex, ‘masculinity’, patriarchy, sexual identity, power and autonomy, all sharpened by the conflicting motives and needs of the two sides. 

The program notes tell us that the Incels’ dialogue is verbatim from Incel websites, documentaries, etc. – but even if it’s not, it’s frightening, ridiculous and pathetic all at once.  The charismatic Jön (Benji Smith), all in black, peremptory, menacing and dominating (pity about the ill-fitting trousers), is the Incels’ leader and chief negotiator, but Ben Ashby’s Elliot, trying to be Mr Nice Guy and schmooze Andromeda, and Ethan Morse’s recalcitrant, sulky but reachable Neo engage us - and reveal – much more.

But creator flick and their collaborators seem to have a wide – or scattergun – agenda.  Unfortunately, that results in the ‘other side’ of the conflict – that is, Andromeda and MOTHERBOARD - exchanging views, ideas and arguments that are interesting and valid (as far as they go) but soon become abstract and not that compelling up against their dramatic conflict scenes with the Incels. 

In any case, the show is too long; a crisp, pointed one hour and a bit could have more punch.  Like most shows that are too long that means repetition – that is, hammering points and arguments that we’ve grasped already.  The final exchange/debate in front of the curtain between Andromeda and MOTHERBOARD – involving new issues and concerns – just about kills a show that we – the audience – know is over.

Flick is clearly a force to be reckoned with in terms of imagination and provocations raising contemporary issues and stimulating debate.  But here it seems their reach exceeds their grasp.  What, exactly, are we to understand here by the term ‘slut’?  Even the simple plot line is confusing.  Where, we wonder, are the lesbians that imprisoned the Incels?  Is this planet their planet?  The collaborators with flick – director Tansy Gorman, dramaturg Enya Daly and research dramaturg Max Tassell – have all rather let them down. 

The claims for the show made in the program and press release are extravagant, unrealised and sometimes incomprehensible.  Is the show really ‘a politicised Magic Mike, a sexy Louis Theroux documentary… looking to both the franchising of cinematic universes, as well as the ring cycles of opera…’?  It’s as if you make such outrageous claims, magically these things will be there.  Raising issues may be applauded, but it isn’t dramatizing or dealing with them.

The challenge for the phenomenon that is flick is to keep the razzamatazz, the glitter, the shocks, surprises, and laughs, but to deliver the case for change in a more focussed, disciplined way.

Michael Brindley

Photographer: Sarah Clarke