WWhen it comes to good publicity, there’s nothing like a little Cock. Mike Bartlett’s new play at The Duke on 42nd Street has a title most reviewers can’t print, and I’m gonna guess will get a few extra reads on this site for that very reason. Presented in the round, and staged like an actual cock fight, the audience members sit on wood seats as the actors fight to the death … sort of. Cock isn’t so much of a cock fight, or even a boxing match, as it is straight drama with a dollop of psychological punches. At the risk of sounding cynical about marketing, it’s too good for the gimmick.

Jason Butler Harner and Cory Michael Smith. Photo: Joan Marcus.

That’s not to say it’s perfect; far from it. But playwright Mike Bartlett’s crisp writing is so strong at times, and the actors are at times even better, that everything else could have been scrapped. Director James Macdonald gets to have a great time with the conceit, though, and you know he’s having a blast. There’s no set, and the actors never change clothes even when they’re undressing or, yes, making love. Macdonald stages scenes like dances, the best being the lead-up to intercourse. It’s one of the sexiest love scenes I’ve seen in ages, the two characters circling each other like animals in a mating ritual, and the actors don’t even touch each other. (There are inconsistencies in the staging as the play progresses, when actors enter from different rooms they exit back into.)

And, in case you’re wondering, Cock isn’t about a cock, rooster or otherwise. Two young, male lovers are in the midst of a break-up, as John (Cory Michael Smith) has gone out and had an affair, with a woman. John’s lover (Jason Butler Harner) and the two other cast members (Amanda Quaid and Cotter Smith) are recognized by initials, “W” for “woman” and “F” for “father.” It’s a clever role-reversal plot, and the play delves into the gray area of sexuality further, when we find out that John’s not sure what sex he’s more comfortable spending his life with. Seems he likes innies and outties, and after all our equal rights and progress, Cock suggests that love might indeed be a choice.

The three lead actors are superb, whipping out their light-saber-like lines with so much ease you forget there’s a script. Quaid’s particularly skillful in a role that’s equal parts charm and manipulation, and Harner’s a pro in the more sarcastic role. Part Mamet, but with more humor, there are times when Cock is quite funny, approaching a farce by the time Dad shows up. Smith is good, too, but, ironically, “Father” pretty much sums up his character. Within minutes after his arrival late in the play, he takes a backseat to the rest of the action.

Whereas Cock starts out with the actors doing “rounds,” a bell stopping and starting the action, by the end, the stunt drops, along with the writing. Cock’s three-way relationship doesn’t end on any sort of a match or even tie-breaker; you’re more than likely to pick the winner, or loser, before curtain. You’ll also grow tired of the fight. Perhaps to keep up with the staging, Cock strains to end on a rousing K.O., but ends up with the coaches letting everyone slump to their corners.

For more information, visit http://www.cockfightplay.com/ or www.telecharge.com.

Grading the Audience: Toussaint Takes on the Crowd:

Off-Broadway audiences tend to be much better than their bigger counterparts, perhaps because it’s more New Yorkers, less tourists. The audience at Cock was no exception, even as they were required to sit on hard-on-your-back seats. The in-the-round format helped, too, as one misplaced word or opening of a candy wrapper and the guy sitting across from you would know who’s the guilty party. No fight here; this audience gets an A!

–D.T.