Naomi Westerman’s Puppy might be the only play this year that manages to combine dogging, feminist porn, and government surveillance – and make it feel like a love story. Now playing at the King’s Head Theatre in Islington, it’s a loud, filthy, and unexpectedly tender comedy about power, protest, and the kind of intimacy that outlasts the sex.
Jaz is a freelance accountant who stumbles into a dogging site out of curiosity, and meets Maya: part-time librarian, full-time porn star, and unapologetic queer activist. There’s chemistry, obviously – but also something deeper. Something that sticks. From their very first conversation, they’re negotiating not just kink and consent but capitalism, shame, queerness, and the endless search for connection in a world that doesn’t always want them to exist, let alone thrive.
That might sound heavy – and sometimes it is. But Puppy handles it with humour, sharp character work, and a real generosity of spirit. The relationship between Jaz and Maya forms the heart of the show, and Ashling O’Shea and Amy Revelle bring warmth and spark to their roles. Their dynamic is messy, flirtatious, frustrating, joyful – everything a new relationship can be. You believe in them. You root for them.
Puppy doesn’t just challenge the norm – it does it with joy, defiance, and glitter.
When the pair decide to launch an ethical, feminist porn company, it’s equal parts political rebellion and romantic leap of faith. But things get complicated fast. New legislation targeting online sexual content threatens to shut them down. And so begins the protest: part media stunt, part personal revolution, complete with flyers, legal threats, and a public demonstration that involves, yes, a great deal of face-sitting.
It’s chaotic, clever, and oddly moving. Director Kayla Feldman keeps the pace quick without rushing past the emotional beats. There’s room here for softness amid the satire – for the quieter conversations, the longing, the hesitation, the moments of doubt. And thanks to intimacy director Christina Fulcher, the physical storytelling feels honest and embodied rather than played for shock or laughs. Even the most outrageous moments (and there are a few) are grounded in emotional truth.
The supporting cast – Tia Dunn, Maria Austin, Ian Hallard and Ed Larkin – add texture and comic lift, stepping cleanly between characters and tones. The design is minimal but effective – Rosin Jenner’s set shifts easily between bedrooms, protest sites, and awkward community meetings, while Catja Hamilton’s lighting offers both warmth and clarity.
If the pacing wobbles slightly towards the end, it’s only because the play is trying to hold so much – politics, protest, personal stakes, and pleasure. Not every thread ties off neatly, but that feels true to the world it builds. The writing remains sharp and character-led, and the emotional arc – of two people learning to fight, love, and make porn on their own terms – holds firm throughout. It’s ambitious, and all the more compelling for it.
Final Thoughts ★★★★★
Would I recommend Puppy? Absolutely. Especially if you like your comedy queer, your politics personal, and your stories told without shame. Puppy is smart, surprising, and full of heart. It’s not perfect – few things worth doing are – but it knows what it’s saying and says it with real joy. It offers something rare: a sex-positive story that doesn’t flatten or sensationalise its characters, but lets them be messy, funny, principled, and deeply human.
Playing at the Kings Head Theatre until 27 April 2025.
Disclaimer: A complimentary ticket was provided in return for an honest and unbiased review.
