Why now? This is the question any theatre must confront when programming a new play. Sophia Chetin-Leuner’s Porn Play—now sold out at the Royal Court—has clear resonance with a chronically online world, addressing the way clandestine addictions are rationalised and limning their destructive effects on our closest personal relationships. According to research cited in the play, women are twice as likely to watch violent pornography as men. In her latest work, Plays to See alum Chetin-Leuner unpacks this statistic, probing the confusion between sexual pleasure and pain, reality and metaverses, and making a clear case for the value and need for authentic human connection.
The play’s protagonist is Ani, a promising young academic. By day she’s winning awards for her path-breaking work on Milton’s poetry; by night – and any other time she has to spare – she’s reaching for technological devices to satisfy her addiction to brutally violent pornography. She justifies her habit by claiming it helps her ‘unwind’ after work and that ‘it’s all fake’ anyway. However, Chetin-Leuner is alert to the fact that fantasy manifests reality. The destruction Ani observes online soon bleeds into her own life—her love life is replaced by bedroom-bound isolation; she suffers to effectively perform her job; and she can’t have a sleepover with her best friend without attempting to pleasure herself.
Part of Chetin-Leuner’s expertise as a playwright is her ability to write characters who are flawed and lacking in self-awareness yet remain magnetic to our sympathies. Ambika Mod brilliantly balances Ani’s intellectual arrogance with emotional fragility stemming from childhood tragedy. She is well supported by Will Close, Lizzy Connolly and Asif Khan, who take on a gaggle of roles, all of which push against Ani’s false self-perceptions.
Theatregoers drawn to the play for its sexy, in-yer-face title might be surprised by the fact that director Josie Rourke keeps matters relatively PG. Her focus is not gratifying spectatorial prurience but adroitly unpacking the psychology and behaviour patterns of addictive personalities. This is achieved through light-touch details. For instance, during a lecture, when Ani tells students to put away their phones, we see her eyes flicker twitchily towards her own device. Likewise, in scenes between Ani and her dad, Rourke keeps the actors well-distanced and their eye contact minimal, pointing to the tacit evasiveness that has come to define filial interactions.
Attentiveness to the play’s broader themes is evident in Yimei Zhao’s excellent set design. The space of the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs is transformed into a grey padded room with a vulva-like vortex at its centre, redolent of the soft interiors of sex clubs and mental asylums. Props for scenes emerge from folds around the stage, symbolically capturing the secrecy Ani has to practise in order to facilitate her addiction. The ambience is enhanced by Mark Henderson’s lighting design, which glows blue, mimicking the light that radiates from a device, and Helen Skiera’s soundtrack of beats pulsates with edginess and tension.
Great pleasure is also to be found in the moments of literary exegesis. In what other play might you find Ambika Mod brilliantly analysing Milton’s Paradise Lost and Lycidas or a cheeky reference to Madwoman in the Attic by Gilbert and Gubar? This scholarship in no way bogs down the show, which is enjoyably pacey throughout, but gives Ani a framework for expressing her fragile psychological condition.
Porn Play is a resonant piece of social commentary, packed with complex characters, fully realised literary allusions, and production values that maximise the textual details. Chetin-Leuner’s work is the starting point for an urgent conversation about the tyranny of the screen and how, through violent pornography, women have been groomed to internalise masochistic sexual practices. The result is catastrophic – the erosion of our ability to connect with other human beings.
Porn Play
By Sophia Chetin-Leuner
Director: Josie Rourke
Photo credits: Helen Murray
Cast includes: Ambika Mod;Will Close; Lizzy Connolly; Asif Khan.
Until: Saturday 26th April 2025
Running Time: 1 hour and 35 minutes with no interval
Review by Olivia Hurton
21st November 2025