Wendy Hoose

Wendy Hoose

Tron Theatre, Glasgow

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Mary Brennan

As the programme note advises, there is strong language and scenes of a sexual nature in Wendy Hoose. Modestly, it doesn't add that you will laugh out loud at lots of the rude stuff - and the dark will hide your blushes because some of that rude stuff is about sex and disability and nice people don't talk about such things, let alone snort and chuckle at them.

But this co-production by Birds of Paradise and Random Accomplice finds director Robert Softley Gale and writer Johnny McKnight in "what-the-hell" cahoots: determined to be upfront, honest and provocative in a two-hander about the pitfalls of relying on a phone app to meet, or rather mate up with a total stranger.

Skinnymalink Jake (James Young) arrives, up for a casual shag and with a vocabulary that hinges on the "f word" as all-purpose verb, noun and adjective. Amy Conachan's Laura, reclining siren-like in her just-so bedroom, has the air of a better-educated, better-off woman who knows what she likes and isn't afraid to ask for it. But the underlying theme here is that appearances can be deceptive. Jake's totally tactless questions and reactions when he discovers Laura is disabled verge on the hurtful. But so do Laura's assumptions that his accent, behaviour and clothes shriek "common loser".

It's unstintingly well acted, totally on the mark and painfully funny, not least because in another cocking-of-the-snook at PC-ness, the animated surtitles and audio-description are spiked with wickedly sniffy asides from the unseen Ann-Marie (Julie Brown) who is tasked with relaying details I can't possibly divulge!