“Sometimes when I look at him, I feel like he’s me.
But if the baby is me, then who am I? You?”

When I had read the writer of The Cord had worked on writing a few episodes of the recent Netflix iteration of  One Day, (and who also has a writer credit for Barber Shop Chronicles) I have to admit: I was excited. This, however, was somewhat of a difficult viewing experience, marred by its lack of clarity in direction and a bizarre evolution as the piece progresses.

The stage is set with a cream coloured carpet (which the usher reminded my party to not walk over it to get to our seats.) It seems that the layout for the Bush is strikinngly similar, with the ‘Block’ confirguration as seen in recent productions). The theatre  itself is wearing a pride badge with the recent Olivier win for Affiliate Theatre (for the fourth consecutive time, I hasten to add!) which goes to show when the programming is good at this venue, it’s very good.

I’m sad to say this was quite the opposite of the brilliance I’ve seen on the Bush stage in many years (and which the recent  Netflix series Baby Reindeer’s success shows is possible when risks are taken). The Cord is billed as a relatable insight into the challenges of being a parent and a child; the main character in the piece ‘Ash’ a guy whose mother is somewhat ambivalent to the anguish he feels as his relationship sours in the direct aftermath of his partner having birthed their child. Perhaps it is a little relatable to some people, but to me, the plot line simply didn’t feel realistic. I, for one, was awaiting the moment when  Ash’s mother and Anya – the partner – interact only for the moment to never arrive. Later on, there are some cringe-induced moments that made the intimate scenes in bed look like, despite intimacy co-ordinator having worked on this, it was merely robotic. Further, the frazzled direction is what let this piece down the most and what left me with a sour taste. I felt as thought the reasonings for placing a nice-tune-playing-cellist in the corner but seemingly in another play. His awkward positioning – being placed in a corner – meant that the presence of the instrument player was at time distracting, but also felt unnecessary. There’s an odd choice to have the cellist playing in his own world, but aside from the time the people aren’t on stage, the actors  are sat watching the action unfold. I’m not sure they know whether to react to the scene being played out in front of them on the elevated stage or not. It causes for the viewing experience to become less seamless, and instead jarring on many levels.

For me, the usage of the storyline – one where the men’s psychosis and mental health is depicted – seems to be a half-baked attempt. The piece starts and closes with the use of mime to depict a baby in the arms of Ash (played by Irfan Sham), and it felt contrived. None of the characters written warranted me to cater too much for them, despite how tense it seemingly got on stage. The scenes of a domestic nature took me away from the seriousness of the piece and into a soap opera à la Eastenders. There were too many questions left in need of an answer (there is, for one, a particularly awkward scene which made a coercive sexual assault seem like the people had never performed sex). Ultimately, the dialogue just didn’t hold me interested beyond the superficial baseline introspection to the storyline.

One of the better elements in this staging was the beautiful lighting design. This was presented with a huge white light that changed colours, and provided mood colours (blue for gloom, you get the idea). Though this too felt like it hadn’t been fully realised or used in a more effective manner.

Overall, this piece has small glimmers of relatability in terms of the storyline for me; though, devastatingly, fails to have a robust direction meant that the actors were let down by material in need of re-shaping; the a space, where I’ve seen many a successes, didn’t fully encapsulate the project’s aims. There really is nothing more disappointing after having seen something and then feeling like you weren’t fully enmeshed in the action. Theatre is a form of escapism, for some. One thing is for sure, and that the topic of men’s health in relation to paternity care on stage is a welcome despite this piece’s flaws.

Until 25 May 2024 at the Bush Theatre, W. London

** AD: An honest review  of the above production is given in exchange of a gratis complimentary ticket. **