ER at the Fringe: The Degenerates

This Orwellian sexual nightmare finds two total strangers, Beth and Marcus, locked together with an imperative to mate. As their uneasy dialogue progresses, they share their traumatic experiences of sexual repression, evidencing their conscription into a state-sponsored treatment to eradicate undesirable behavior, which turns out to be homoerotic impulses. Failure to copulate (and conceive) within the hour may lead to incarceration, more invasive medical corrective procedures, or worse.

Every story that gradually pieces its plot together runs the risk of becoming a mere expositional recollection devoid of drama or emotional investiture. That is The Degenerates’ major deficiency. Allowing its characters little development other than the unveiling of their past, the play largely consists of Beth pacing the bedroom in a hyperventilating “don’t-touch-me” mood, while Marcus attempts to impress on her the need to stay focused and get it over with. Their performances get quite repetitive very soon.

The power shifts between the two manage to excite some interest, as Marcus quietly takes the reins through a careful display of vulnerability. That, in turn, draws a shaky compliance from Beth, which soon establishes a near-intimacy between the captives, giving the play a much-needed space to breathe.

Not much is offered in terms of plot, either. The few revelations that are in store don’t come often enough to keep one’s interest. By the same token, the tension hinges on clichés like a past history of sexual abuse and an untimely realization that the clock on the wall has stopped working, fittingly anticipating a predictable final twist. In spectacle, performance and text, The Degenerates is not appallingly bad, just flat and lukewarm.

The Degenerates. Directed by Owen Phillips. C, Edinburgh. 15-30 August, 13:10. £9.50 (£8.50 concessions). www.ribcagedproductions.co.uk