Patrick Bone Productions
Dumped, in denial, and desperate for something to control, Mark adopts a pet pig, hoping for some simple companionship. The walking, talking hog who turns up has other ideas. Like The Odd Couple, but it’s a protein-guzzling gym bro and a feminist literature-obsessed pig. An absurdist comedy about masculinity, the thin line between humans and animals, and whether it’s ever a good idea to read Simone de Beauvoir to your pet pig (even if she asks nicely).
So, I went into Two Little Pigs feeling a mixture of scepticism, intrigue and genuine curiosity. Would this concept actually work? Would a walking, talking pig become a gimmick? And, perhaps most importantly, could the production pull off such an unusual premise without becoming completely ridiculous?
Well, I was pleasantly surprised.
At its heart, Two Little Pigs is a well-written two-hander which uses an absurd concept to explore some considerably more serious subjects. There is plenty of humour along the way, but underneath it sits a story dealing with masculinity, social isolation, self-care, destructive behaviour, relationships and mental health.
We follow Mark following the breakdown of his relationship with his girlfriend. Looking for companionship and perhaps something in his life he can actually control, he adopts a pig.
Except this isn’t exactly your average pig.
What follows is a strange relationship in which Mark can display controlling behaviour towards his new companion one moment, affection the next, before gradually revealing more of his own vulnerabilities. This gives the character considerably more depth than simply presenting him as a stereotypical problematic male. We are allowed to see some of the insecurities and behaviours sitting underneath the surface.
The pig, meanwhile, isn’t prepared to quietly accept everything Mark says or does. She challenges his behaviour, particularly his misogyny and inappropriate attitudes, while also setting up some of the production’s funniest moments. The contrast between the pair works remarkably well and gives the play its distinctive personality.
What I particularly liked is that the production doesn’t necessarily sit the audience down and tell us exactly what is right or wrong. Instead, it presents arguments and behaviours for us to consider. The pig challenges Mark, Mark responds, and we are left to listen, observe and make up our own minds.
There are some genuinely interesting discussion points within the script, and the comedy helps make those themes accessible without completely overwhelming the production.
The staging itself is relatively minimal, but effective. The lighting is used well, while the simplicity of the set allows the performers and script to remain at the centre of proceedings. It also feels like a production which could transfer particularly well into studio spaces if it tours after the Fringe.
One of the most interesting visual elements is the pen used to contain the pig. On the surface, it’s obviously there because Mark owns a pig. However, it gradually begins to feel symbolic of something much bigger: control, ownership and dominance.
As Mark’s behaviour develops, that physical barrier takes on another meaning. It reflects how controlling behaviour, particularly male dominance within relationships, can tighten if left unchecked until something which initially appears relatively harmless becomes a chokehold. It’s a simple piece of staging, but one which adds another layer to the themes being explored.
The one area where I felt Two Little Pigs stumbled slightly was its ending.
After becoming invested in these characters and the arguments the production raises, I was hoping for a stronger sense of conclusion. Instead, the ending felt a little like a damp squib. I wanted to know what happened next and where this strange relationship ultimately led. It may simply be that the Fringe runtime makes giving the story a fuller resolution difficult, but I was left wanting that final piece of the puzzle.
That said, perhaps being left wanting more isn’t the worst criticism a production can receive.
Two Little Pigs is an unusual, intelligent and entertaining piece of theatre. What could easily have become a novelty comedy about a man living with a talking pig instead becomes something considerably more thoughtful, using absurdity and humour to examine masculinity, vulnerability, isolation and control.
A well-written play with strong performances and plenty of interesting ideas. The ingredients for success are certainly in the pen.
★★★★ Absurd, intelligent and surprisingly thought-provoking
