In Mike Bartlett’s off-Broadway hit “Cock” — alternatively titled, for weaker hearts and newspapers, “The Cockfighting Play” — a man couldn’t make up his mind between his boyfriend and his female lover. Bartlett’s new companion piece, “Bull,” also centers on a trio. This time, though, it’s not built on desire but on hate.
Like its predecessor, which was staged in acustom-built amphitheater, the new piece takes place in the round. Or rather, in the square: At the center of the venue there’s an elevated platform shaped like a mini boxing ring or arena — this time, the show is subtitled “The Bullfight Play.”
You can choose to watch either from seats along all four sides or standing just inches from the stage. The close quarters increase the sense we’re about to watch not a show, but a showdown. The audience gets charged up further by chest-pumping hits like “My Sharona” and “Eye of the Tiger” playing before the start.
The combatants aren’t boxers or matadors but executives in conservative business attire. Their team is about to be downsized, so each one is going to battle for survival.
Isobel (the coolly assured Eleanor Matsuura) begins by pointing out to Thomas (Sam Troughton) that he shouldn’t have worn his cheap suit. “You really are a bitch,” he replies.
Our power exec doesn’t look fazed in the least. When alpha male Tony (Adam James) enters, it becomes clear he and Isobel are tag-teaming against Thomas: If someone must go, it might as well be him.
Together, they mock Thomas’ appearance and modest origins, and maliciously mess with his head. Chatting about their respective family backgrounds, Thomas asks Isobel what her dad did. She bluntly answers: “Me.” A beat. “He did me. He abused me.”
Throughout, Troughton’s increasingly panicky Thomas tries to dodge and parry, but he overcompensates with wild, inefficient jabs at his opponents.
Things don’t improve with the arrival of the trio’s boss, Mr. Carter (Neil Stuke). Thomas complains that he’s being bullied, but that makes him look even morepathetic.
Clare Lizzimore directed this British import for maximum velocity and maximum impact. While you can’t deny its sickening power, “Bull” starts at a fever pitch and stays there, sacrificing nuance for blunt force, characters for archetypes. Because there’s no buildup, the show reads like the second part of a longer piece — and we didn’t see the first one.
By the time the final, harrowing confrontation arrives, it’s easy to feel as blindsided as Thomas.