A play about the power and restriction of the female orgasm in the 1880s might sound sensational, but Sarah Ruhl’s “In the Next Room (Or the Vibrator Play)” transcends mere salaciousness.  It delves into the multifaceted realities of women as wives, mothers, and sexual beings. 

Dr. Givings’ lonely young wife becomes increasingly intrigued by the strange sounds in the room next door and blossoming changes she observes in her husband’s patients when they exit. Driven by a yearning for connection, she befriends them and at the same time awakens her own unspoken desires. The clinical and the comical intersect with the sensual and scientific, ultimately providing a surprisingly human exploration of a bygone era.

The late 19th century, particularly the 1880s, was a time of significant technological advancement, especially with the rise of electricity. This burgeoning fascination with innovation created a sense of progress and modernity. However, social and medical understandings, particularly regarding women’s health and sexuality, lagged far behind.

This play illuminates the misguided beliefs surrounding “hysteria.”  A flawed diagnosis absurdly attributed a woman’s entire emotional spectrum to her uterus, pathologising and dismissing her emotions as irrational and contributing to the misguided belief in a “wandering womb” or uterine dysfunction. The “medical marvel” being the remedy to all her concerns. This invention is of course the first vibrator.

Director Emma Whitehead offers an intriguing perspective on this material. The often fraught relationships also offer moments of genuine warmth, and the unfolding treatments next door elicit bursts of laughter fuelled by disbelief during the presentation of the matter fact medically-induced orgasms.  However the overall tonal approach and pacing feel unsteady. A more consistently defined portrayal of buttoned-up Victorian days could have provided a richer and more nuanced context. Nevertheless, these very funny clinical encounters interweave well with emotional awakenings, highlighting the stark divide between the detached, often misguided, scientific approach of the time and the rich, complex inner worlds of these women.

Riley Thomas’s portrayal of Dr. Givings is marked by a gentle reserve and emotional reticence, creating an intriguing counterpoint to his wife, Catherine. Sarah Greenwood’s portrayal of  Catherine’s frustration and awakening is channelled through a vibrant energy and emotional fluidity.  It is a contemporary approach that perhaps is designed to underline her free-thinking and impulsiveness as these two characters struggle to understand themselves and each other. The script’s rushed ending however weakens this central couple’s journey, preventing their eventual intimacy from solidifying the play’s themes.

Lisa Kelly delivers an intricate and insightful performance as Sabrina Dalry, a woman who experiences significant benefits from the treatments. Her bewildered reactions and physical comedy often provide most of the delightful, ironic humour. She forms a compelling contrast with the source of her emotional pain, her husband (Lewis McLeod), a man rigidly confined and emotionally stunted by the very system the play critiques. The arrival of Luke Visentin’s flamboyant artist in Act Two further stirs up conventions and urges. A symbol of unrestrained expression, he ignites Catherine’s insecurities and confusion.

The lovely performances of Alyona Popova (Annie) and Ruva Shoko (Elizabeth) both offer a compellingly genuine and grounded foundation for the antics. These strong and marginalised women are always fascinating because they offer a vital, often unseen perspective and the quiet resilience required. 

What truly shines In the Next Room (Or the Vibrator Play) is its exposure of the underlying emotional and physical deprivation suffered by women within a patriarchal world, where authentic and visceral experiences are often hidden or unfold just out of sight. This production illuminates the subtle threads of empathy and understanding that flicker amidst prevailing emotional distance. Bonds can be broken and made despite societal barriers. You’ll leave with a newfound appreciation for the power of connection… and heartfelt laughter.