Dear Martin – Arcola Theatre, London

Darkly comic Dear Martin is an amusing “what if” about a budding friendship between a cuckolded husband and his wife’s erotic penpal, who is also a psychopath.

Dear Martin

It really is the curious premise that draws you into seeing a play, sometimes.  Such was the case, for me, with Dear Martin by Madelaine Brettingham which is on at the Arcola Theatre.  Our protagonist is Dave (Ben Simpson), who has discovered his wife is conducting an emotional affair.  That affair is with antagonist Martin (Alex Mugnaioni), who is currently resident in a high security psychiatric facility and with whom said wife is exchanging erotic letters.  When Dave contacts Martin the latter offers his help to reignite the marriage.  What’s in it for Martin?  Well it really would be very useful if Martin’s psychiatrist believed that he’d made a friend… Maybe smooth the path to open prison and eventually parole.

So you can see why I found it intriguing. Initially it brought to mind another very enjoyable play at the Arcola with an unusual premise: last year’s When You Pass Over My Tomb.  Necrophilia, psychopathy: we’re slowly building up our own Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.  And through different genres, too, as Dear Martin is a comedy.

The play opens in epistolary fashion, with Dave and Martin exchanging letters. Before long Dave visits to confront Martin in person, and thus begins to be drawn into Martin’s world and that of the Clear Point facility.  Clear Point, as filtered mostly through Martin’s experience, is a trying place.  For someone who prides himself on his intelligence and craves novelty, the stultifying boredom is punishment indeed.  Much better than his fellow patients with whom he has no interest in connecting. So his budding friendship – if it is that – with Dave, is a useful outlet.

There’s a whole narrative arc I won’t spoil, but suffice it to say there was more character development than I initially expected.  That I’m still sceptical of character development in a person who many experts would say cannot form a genuine connection says more about me, perhaps?  Or maybe this and other tentative forays into bigger themes, like prison ethics and the sometimes narrow line between diagnosable and lauded behaviour, could do with further development. The play’s themes of hope and change would suggest I’m the cynical one, though.

A Darkly Funny Spin on a Not Unfamiliar Premise

What I am much less sceptical about is that Mugnaioni is well-cast (by which I don’t mean he could be found in the DSM mentioned above).  He is charming and suave, even when breaking the fourth wall (and even when missing the odd line).  But he plays Martin’s charm as a brittle veneer, with rage never too far away.  When the rage occasionally boils over it’s probably more of a surprise to the naive Dave than to the audience.  The latter character is a perfect foil: trusting as a puppy, and racked with insecurity where Martin seems all confidence.  The exaggerated physicality of Simpson’s performance plays up the comedy to good effect.

The cast is rounded out by Amelia Donker playing multiple roles of psychiatrist, guard and fellow visitor, and Edward Judge whose primary role is Ben, an inmate of the simple kind seemingly designed to torment the erudite Martin.  Their acting again leans into the comedy of the piece. But most of Brettingham’s best lines go into the letters exchanged between Dave and Martin.

Dear Martin‘s set is a white cube affair by Kit Hinchcliffe.  Sparse but effective for quick changes between scenes.  Lighting by Lucía Sánchez Roldán distinguishes nicely between the exchange of letters and the scenes in Clear Point, even conveying different emotions.  Julian Starr‘s sound design was atmospheric if a little loud at times from my seat.

All in all Dear Martin is a darkly funny spin on a not unfamiliar premise.  A much more pleasant interaction between a psychopath and their visitor than seeing “the one with Jodie Foster and the sheep”.  I’m not quite sure I bought into the fuzzy ending. But I did laugh out loud along with much of the audience.

Salterton Arts Review’s rating: 3/5

Dear Martin on until 29 March 2025. More info and tickets here.