Intimacy Is a Knife’s Edge in “Hardlove”
Hardlove at the Soho Playhouse is one horny show. A very horny show. And in that lies its biggest strength. Hardlove by Anıl Can Beydilli follows two people (Chichi and Theodore) after their night out as they head to Theodore’s apartment for an evening together. The play explores the modern dating scene and the thin line between a hookup and the start of something deeper, and how we can get lost in the details and lack of clarity early on.
What struck me early on was the realism of the play and how grounded it was. The dialogue between Chichi and Theodore is something that most people have gone through in some way themselves, especially in the New York dating scene. Their arc from being horny to talking about logistics, to getting ready in the bathroom, to actually getting started and then stopping, was very funny, engaging, and felt true.
Then it all goes wrong when Chichi wants maybe a bit more than Theodore had bargained for, and what started as just a horny night of sex evolves into two people connecting without necessarily wanting to at first. Throughout their talk (originally only started as a way to get back to the sex), they go through the typical stages of a casual connection, where emotions get mixed with sexual attraction and things are not defined and therefore confusing.
They both try to understand each other, almost as a challenge, as they are so different. The meek, more Western-world Theodore (Chandler Stephenson) and his ways of communicating and acting that are overly cautious, versus the more Eastern and wilder Chichi (Miray Beşli), who has trouble accessing her softer side. The evening then explores through these two how a connection can be made in this modern-day dating world. It goes into topics of intimacy, kinks, identity, and fantasy. But as soon as they get too close, they clash once more between what they want and what they are afraid of, culminating in pushing said fantasies to extremes and seeing if this is truly what they want, or just what they want to think they want when the answer is maybe simpler—and therefore scarier.
The production does not shy away from the horniness and rawness of these moments. Theodore trying to choke Chichi, her trying to push his buttons so he will give her more of what she desires. Theodore trying to meet her where she is and prove that he is as kinky as she wants him to be by cutting her or himself.
Even though this is technically a Turkish play from a Turkish playwright (Anıl Can Beydilli), it feels incredibly relevant to the New York dating scene. As a Turkish person myself, I was pleasantly surprised that some of its origin still remained through Chichi, played by a Turkish actress (Miray Beşli), who puts little Turkish sayings in her dialogue.
The chemistry between the two leads is where the production truly shines. They elevate what could become mundane or awkward with a duo that does not play well off each other and make the moments of complicity, tension, and desire sing. The staging by Jee Duman also helps elevate the script. Staged in what could be a very challenging space, as it is a small stage surrounded by a bar, Jee manages to make this weakness a strength. It helps the audience join the intimacy of the play—the characters moving around them as they start at the literal bar before going to Theo’s place, heading to the bathroom, or out the door. It all feels natural and intimate. It helps us fall into the dance of these two characters.
Speaking of dance, it is time to answer at least in my view one of the most important questions when seeing a show where sex is heavily involved: How do they tackle the intimacy? Very tastefully, I must say. While our two leads “get it on,” the play becomes a movement piece. Dougie Robbins’ choreography makes it clear exactly what they are doing to each other, but it is tasteful enough that it is never awkward while still maintaining the aim to showcase exactly what they are doing in a way that we can clearly understand, but within an aesthetic that makes it comfortable for the audience and still very much a theatrical experience. The team’s goal of keeping it safe and yet daring is working perfectly.
Finally, I had the chance to speak after watching the show with the actors and the creative team, and I wanted to ask them about the adaptation of this play. Because as stated before, Hardlove is originally a Turkish play set in Istanbul. When I was originally pitched it, part of the reason I was interested to see it is because it was Turkish theatre, and we get so little of it in America. So, I was surprised when the show did not lean into being Turkish or did not have themes specific to Turkey at all. Other than Chichi and some of her references and idioms, the play tackles more universal themes of connection, love, and culture. In fact, according to the team, the act of adapting this play for a U.S. audience made it even bolder while keeping the same structure. They expressed to me how open the playwright was to them making edits in the room, to adapt the names, the jobs, cultural references, and such to the New York scene. And in such, they have succeeded wonderfully while maintaining the heart of what this show is about, regardless of where it is set. It is a very universal show that leaves you questioning relationships, love, and how we tackle connecting in our modern society.
In the end, Hardlove is a show that is worth a watch. I wonder what it could become outside of this environment, as the intimacy created by the space it’s in at the Soho Playhouse contributes greatly to its impact. Jee Duman confessed he has the same thoughts in mind, but in his capable hands and with the chemistry and talent of the leads as well as the creative team’s, I am more excited than concerned for that moment. In the meantime, Hardlove runs at the Soho Playhouse until December 12th, so if you feel the pull to see a horny, fun show about connecting in the modern one-night-stand era while having a cocktail, this is the show for you. It is good to see Turkish theatre in New York. Especially when it is good.
