Second Thought Theatre’s production of Bull is out to unsettle you from the beginning. A thundering buzzer sounds when it’s time to let the audience in from the lobby, then loud, jarring music pounds so insistently that pre-show chitchat is impossible. When Ian Ferguson enters the arena-like stage, we peer down at him as he paces, adjusts his tie, and nervously smoothes his hair. Whatever—or whomever—his character, Thomas, is waiting for, he’s clearly terrified.
And he should be. Mike Bartlett’s 55-minute play is an unrelenting cascade of cruelty, a psychological beat down that leaves not only Thomas, but also the audience, squirming. And under Christie Vela’s precise direction, it’s also a taut, thrilling display of predators toying with their prey.
Last season Second Thought Theatre staged another of Bartlett’s plays, Cock, which dealt with minefields of the heart. Bull shifts to the workplace, where Thomas has been called in for a meeting with the boss along with two of his coworkers. They arrive polished; his suit is ill-fitting and his shoes are scuffed. They bring their sales figures in slick blue folders; he arrives empty-handed. But from the moment Natalie Young, chic and sleek in her black shift dress and red suede heels, struts onstage, pausing overlong to icily size up Thomas, it’s clear that these faux pas aren’t by coincidence.
Young and Alex Ross are delightfully chilling as Thomas’ coworkers, Tony and Isobel. They work in tandem to destroy his confidence, instill paranoia, and elegantly tear him down in front of the power-suited Carter (played with ruthless machismo by Jeremy Schwartz), who will fire one of the three that afternoon. They also keep us guessing—have they planned this? Do Tony and Isobel even like each other? Is this truly self-preservation? Or are they just simply two heartless souls who get their kicks by intimidating others?
Either way, they’re fascinating to watch. Ross, all sharp angles in his shiny grey suit (and even underneath it, we see), has perfected a laugh so shrill it’s possible to believe it haunts Thomas’s nightmares. Young, speaking in a posh, clipped British accent (all the accents are flawless), delights in keeping Thomas off-balance while accusing him of taking everything too seriously. She’s expert at turning his accusations back on him, and watching a small, cruel smile spread on Young’s crimson lips is as much fun as seeing her eyes light up when another opportunity to demean Thomas presents itself.
As for Thomas, a lot of the relentless teasing is based around him being short, paunchy, and balding. Ferguson is none of these things, but his slumped body—which never ceases to radiate tension—convinces us that he might be. Or are these physical insults just another mind trick of Tony and Isobel’s, carefully constructed to set Thomas up for failure? No matter—you still won’t be able to escape or tear your eyes away from the carnage.
