Ambitiously, Toxic is not only autobiographical but also aims to be representative of issues which blight relationships. The audience does not have to work out that the characters are representative of certain behavioural types as this is stated in a direct-to-audience speech which opens the play.
To ensure their universality, the characters are not named but are assigned titles. The Playwright (author Nathaniel J Hall) and The Performer (Josh-Susan Enright) have past issues which cause shame and hinder their ability to form relationships. His first sexual encounter left The Playwright HIV positive, and his stigmatisation is represented by the requirement of the clinic to retain a telephone landline. The Performer, being of mixed race, is conflicted about the racial and sexual community to which they belong and also has experienced abandonment / generational homophobia. However, as The Performer uses Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis (PrEP), he is not deterred by The Playwright’s HIV status and they are able to form a couple. However, the lasting impact of past traumas makes the relationship increasingly toxic.
Even before the play begins, there are hints the relationship will not last long. Lu Herbert’s squalid set looks to have seen better days. The brickwork is peeking through cracked plaster and the window is broken.
Director Scott Le Crass stylishly captures the impersonal, calculative nature of modern courtships. The characters conduct their initial meetings online via apps and meet in person only after having masturbated over screenshots of each other. The courtship is represented in a garish (and at times hilarious), delirious display of messages and emoji projected onto the set.
The sexual encounters between the characters are graphically suggested by highly stylised physical movements directed by Plaster Cast (Ayden Brouwers, Lizard Morris and Emmy Lahoul) and grunting sound effects which leave little to the imagination. Toxic is a play in which one character spitting on another is considered erotic, even affectionate. Striking dance moves capture the drugged-out, hedonistic Manchester rave scene.
Nowadays ‘toxic’ refers to a dysfunctional character trait such as, say, misogyny. In Toxic, however, the relationship is blighted by the inability of the characters to communicate (or possibly identify to themselves) what they want from the connection. The Playwright accepts a marriage proposal but has no intention of going through with the ceremony. When The Playwright tries to make up for his relative sexual inexperience by introducing a third party into the relationship, The Performer agrees to the threesome with great reluctance and continues to resent the arrangement even as it continues.
The blend of personal and general makes for an artificial atmosphere. The device of identifying the characters by title limits intimacy as they never address each other by name, even in private. The cast break the fourth wall to remind the audience events did / did not happen and could happen to other people as well. The characters may be drawn to each other by mutual recognition they are both, in some way, traumatised, but a lack of background information makes it hard to be sure. The Performer refers to, but does not give any examples of, experiences of racism and The Playwright’s reasons for rejecting a permanent married relationship are never explained.
Ironically, despite the jaded accuracy of the physical aspects of the relationship, it is not always easy to believe the damaged characters in Toxic actually feel affection or tenderness for each other.