A pink carpet awaited patrons arriving for press night of Disposable, a production in a fundraising partnership with Women’s Aid, a charitable organisation that supports women survivors of domestic abuse. It’s worth pointing out that Women’s Aid refers men affected by domestic violence to the Men’s Advice Line. Loving Me provides support for trans and non-binary victims (their choice of noun) of domestic abuse. Women’s Aid’s definition of domestic abuse is extensive, and includes coercive control, harassment and stalking, and digital abuse, as well as physical and sexual abuse. There was scope, then, to consider several categories in this play, which chooses to focus on a rape charge against Jacob (Paddy Lintin), made by Liv, an off-stage character.
Virtually all of the first act is taken up with introducing the characters and deepening the audience’s understanding of them as undergraduates doing things that undergraduates are known for doing – partying, sleeping in and doing just enough studying to turn in coursework assignments just before the deadline. Jacob, a gregarious character, enjoys the camaraderie of the accommodation he shares with (in no particular order) Megan (Becky Bond), Sam (Sukey Willis), Lucy (Amaarah Roze) and Will (William Huke). The script is comfortable with leaning into stereotypes about the younger generation’s viewpoints, with forays into gender identity and climate change, amongst other things.
The play’s attempts to create a credible reality are admirable, though this was one of those shows where everything is, all other things being equal, going reasonably well for so long that it almost became inevitable that the narrative would turn unpleasant very quickly. And then it happened – bam! – the sudden critical incident that would permanently and irreparably shatter the borderline utopia. Interestingly, none of the characters flees to a women’s refuge – and not because the situation has become so dangerous and controlling that they are unable to do so.
The set is, I think, one of the most detailed I’ve seen in this venue, including a large refrigerator, kitchen worktops, and miscellaneous items of furniture, all of which helped to make the shared apartment ‘truly’ lived in. Megan posts regular video updates to her large social media following: by way of projection, some online comments were displayed in between scenes, but these were scrolled through so quickly I found it impossible to read them before they went off-screen – I quickly gave up trying. But if anything, the show does a reasonable job of portraying the ‘best’ life, polished and ‘perfect’, that influencers relish highlighting on screen, whilst demonstrating how reality is, totally unsurprisingly, not all smiles and positivity.
The dialogue is nuanced, avoiding the plunge into concluding that all men are perpetrators of abuse. Megan repeatedly saying “I don’t know” does not exactly make for gripping theatre, but in the end, I found it difficult to disagree. While Megan’s own experiences may be an open and shut case for the likes of Lucy, in a world where it is rightly expected that the stories of women should be believed at face value, at least in the first instance, Sam’s response to Megan’s story resonated most strongly for me – Megan should decide on a reasonable course of action, and Sam would support it, whatever ‘it’ turned out to be.
As a story, it felt somewhat unfinished, and the play ends rather abruptly. In bringing a pertinent contemporary issue to the stage, it’s a well-intentioned production. It might well be that my leaving the theatre with more questions than answers was down to deliberate artistic choices. But there is such a thing as being too inconclusive, and I find myself in the unusual position of wanting a show to be twenty minutes longer as a result.
Review by Chris Omaweng
Created around five friends living together during their second year at university, their world begins to crumble when one of them is accused of rape.
With scenes of complete naturalism contrasted by scene changes of TikTok fantasy, the play highlights the truths and complications of modern dating alongside the filter of how we present our lives on social media. It tackles the conversation of consent in a way that’s currently missing from our theatres and TV screens.
While the subject matter is undeniably serious, Disposable is full of warmth, wit and the messy joy of student life, creating a night of theatre that is both hard-hitting and surprisingly uplifting.
Jacob – Paddy Lintin
Megan – Becky Bond
Lucy – Amaarah Roze
Sam – Sukey Willis
Will – William Huke
Director – Elodie Foray
Assistant Director and Stage Manager – Gemma Evans
Intimacy Director – Emma Bailey
Movement Director – Carina Howard
Graphic Designer – Lewis Padgett
Videographer – David Fisher
DISPOSABLE
A play by Becky Bond
Union Theatre
4 to 9 November 2025
