F**king Men review: Unapologetically frank and ferociously funny

The only coy thing about the revival of Joe DiPietro’s F**king Men is the asterisks in the title. It’s unapologetically frank about gay sex. It’s also ferociously funny as it whisks us through one close encounter of the carnal kind after another.

The cast – Alex Britt, Charlie Condou, Derek Mitchell, and Stanton Plummer-Cambridge – work their asses off and frequently flash them. There’s frontal nudity too and trigger warnings for strong language and homophobic violence.

Let’s be honest: The nudity isn’t needed. Director Steven Kunis sensibly stages much of the fake fornication for laughs because there’s no way to stimulate anatomic arousal.

Much has changed since DiPietro came up with the idea of putting a gay spin on Arthur Schnitzer’s bed-hopping 1897 classic La Ronde, premiering it at the King’s Head Theatre in 2009 ahead of a West End transfer. The play was later revived in Dublin in 2016. It then enjoyed a stint at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and returned to London in 2017.

As one character ponders in this version, is it even OK to say ‘gay’ anymore or should it be ‘queer’? Pornhub was in its infancy back in 2009 and there was no OnlyFans. Or vaping or Prep or #MeToo, all of which DiPietro weaves into the new script.

As the writer notes in the programme, though, much has remained the same since he came of age in the 80s. There may be new sexual kinks and peccadillos but for the majority sex is about connection, expression, and love. Thus a twenty-something student (Britt) declares that sex with strangers is “fan-f***ing-tastic” but he yearns for a meaningful relationship. Married man (Plummer-Cambridge) says the beauty of gay male relationships means “We don’t have to be trapped by monogamy.” It’s as if he’s trying to convince himself it’s the truth.

I think I’m quoting the correct characters. The cast play multiple roles, mostly with American accents. Between this and the swift scene changes it’s sometimes hard to keep track of who’s who. Done as a series of sketches there’s not much momentum or real plot, and all that simulated sex gets repetitive.

But the exchanges of dialogue rather than (unseen) fluids wittily and wisely probe such issues as biphobia, ageing, consent, being gay in the armed forces, and why there are still no “butt-f***ing action heroes” on the Hollywood A-list.

DiPietro sure has a way with dialogue. “I hate how I look when I am rimming,” squeals a pornstar when his trick finds a clip of him on the internet. “I’m not gay, I’m in the army,” says a first-timer with no hint of irony.

Then there’s the obscure playwright (Mitchell) barfing at the mere mention of Broadway and intoning “My artistic ambition is to be cancelled”. No such fate awaits DiPietro, whose work remains as vital and thought-provoking as it ever was.

F**king Men is at Waterloo East Theatre, London, until 18 June. Get tickets here. Charlie Condou is starring until 21 May.