Finding a balance between sexuality and what society expects

The Unicorn at the Burton Taylor Studio, Oxford Playhouse, on Saturday, July 16. Review by JON LEWIS

According to the central character of Sam Potter’s 60-minute solo show The Unicorn, a unicorn is the name given to a single woman who is available sexually and is willing to attend sex parties on her own.

Andrea (Georgina Fairbanks) is this rare and sought-after creature, desired by couples looking for a third person to hook up with, and a powerful attraction in parties where the main participants are men. The play debuted at the North Wall Arts Centre in 2019 prior to the pandemic and is revived by a new director, Anthony Greyley, prior to a run at the Pleasance Theatre at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival next month.

Andrea is an attractive, unemployed young woman whose main attraction to the audience is her honesty and openness. The audience is very aware of Andrea’s allure as Fairbanks removes layer after layer of clothing until she appears in scanty nightwear behind a plexiglass mirror gyrating to the music at one of the many sex parties in London that she attends. She uses her redundancy money to subsidise her hedonist lifestyle, plunging into a pool of available Tinder dates. She invents rules such as never see a date twice.

It is an intensely physical performance and one that showcases Fairbanks character creation. She also plays Andrea’s disinterested cigarette-smoking mother, a bullish ex who wants her out of his life because his new girlfriend is expecting their child, an Italian stallion she meets on Tinder who inducts her into the party scene, and a kindly gay Liverpudlian who acts as a stepping stone back to forming friendships.

Potter’s drama suggests that a whirlwind of multiple sexual encounters, with no partner lasting longer than a single engagement, is no substitute for the more meaningful relationship with someone who is caring and selfless.

Andrea may have a high sex drive that puts her in a small minority of young women needing more excitement in life, but she is a drifter in a sea of debt without the means of sustaining the debauchery.

She returns to normality with a forlorn whimper and not an erotic bang.