Theatre Review: Gary McNair asks what men talk about when they talk about women in Locker Room Talk

Four women, four microphones, four iPods, four sets of headphones. They're relaying excerpts from the conversations Glasgow-based theatre maker Gary McNair had with hundreds of men and boys about women and girls. More specifically, what men and boys say to each other when they talk about women and girls. He was welcomed in to gyms, schools, doctors surgeries, office blocks and building sites, and, with participants guaranteed anonymity, all were cognisant of the fact their words were being recorded and may be used as part of McNair's verbatim play.

When this additional performance was announced to cope with demand, I was pleased I'd get the opportunity to see it – only at the Traverse for one day – but apprehensive too. This would not be a comfortable experience. And even with women voicing these words, even in the relative safety of the controlled theatre environment, this feels intimidating, the emotional equivalent of walking the gauntlet of the building site. Turn back and you'll be humiliated, carry on and listen to a live critique of your body, a butcher's map of flesh and bone to be savoured or spat out. And while the construction industry has worked hard in recent years to stamp out site catcalling, that's no 1970s myth, it's part of the lived experience of countless women.

A numbers system has apparently replaced the catcalling – sometimes, as an excerpt from a group of office workers illustrates – a system that can be covertly communicated to other male colleagues in the presence of the woman being rated; and there are newer terms such as “paper bag” or “butterface” to refer to women whose bodies may be approved of but their face isn't. In each case, the power dynamic of the building site is replicated. And while there are moments of humour here and there, this is not comfortable at all. I imagine my response as a male audience member – of which there are many. How would I feel; repulsed, ashamed, angry, defensive? Desperate to fling up my hand and say “not all men”? Probably.

McNair knows this is not how all men talk. Described by director Orla O'Loughlin as a “rapid response” piece, McNair says he was inspired to begin the project after particularly sexual aggressive comments made by Donald Trump were later dismissed as “locker room talk”. Lost amid the political ructions of Trump being elected was any serious discussion about how prevalent this was, and whether it really mattered. McNair thought it did. As he said in the discussion which followed the show, he'd spent much of his life filtering these voices out his life, but he knew they existed. What angered him as much as the content was that these comments were often made to form a bond with him, and that he still struggled for a way to show his objection “without looking like a stick-in-the-mud.”

Though there are deeply disturbing comments here – content much more chilling than the almost casual objectification given above, Locker Room Talk is not some pity party bemoaning how awful some men are. It's not, as Dr Nina Burrowes, who chairs the post-show discussion, notes, some black and white men-versus-women war. No-one benefits from this. It's not so much a play about women as the beginnings of a discussion about masculine identity. A segment featuring the words of five-year-old boys shows them defining themselves as “not girls”. As boys grow up, she says, masculinity often seems to be about “not being gay”. When suicide is the leading cause of death among young men, it's worth asking whether this rigid gender identity is part of the problem.

And among the aggression and debasement there are dissenting voices, men who reject this entirely, but are unsure, like McNair was, how to challenge it, especially when cloaked it's in irony. Fellow playwright Javaad Alipoor recently described that pernicious tone as “irono-serious”, and like his Fringe First-winning The Believers Are But Brothers, the value of Locker Room Talk will be in the discussions it generates. Like Alipoor's exploration of terrorism and the internet, there are no answers here; no blueprint for a route out of a huge, spikey tangle with multiple complexities. How could this possibly be comfortable?

Burrowes, a specialist in the psychology of sexual violence, child sexual abuse and “people who don't want to work with me”, says we have to acknowledge that discomfort before we can even begin to discuss potential solutions.

Author and activist James Baldwin once offered that: “People cling to their hates so stubbornly because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” There's maybe something in that. McNair dedicates the play to his daughter: “May you not be fighting this fight when you are my age.”

A challenging, disturbing piece, Locker Room Talk comes from a place of anger, compassion and – ultimately - optimism. Let's hope its life beyond the Fringe is fruitful.

The conversation has just begun. Join it on Twitter using #LockerRoomTalkPlay

The leaflet accompanying the show provides links to:
Edinburgh Rape Crisis
Women's Aid
End Violence Against Women
Everyday Sexism

Other sources of support include:
White Ribbon Project
The Samaritans
Breathing Space
Childline