There may be barely a spaceship in sight in Louis Emmitt-Stern’s sharply witty Queer comedy-drama, but there’s certainly plenty of sex, relationships and increasingly blurred boundaries.
Played in the round with no conventional set or props, the Kings Arms’ studio is transformed with a simple overhead rig of paper-lantern ‘planets’, star garlands and one solitary paper rocket. Bathed in pink and purple light as the strains of 2001: A Space Odyssey’s opening theme echoes around the room; we first eavesdrop on the romantic machinations of couple Leo (Ciarán Lockwood) and Dan (Ben Bradfield).
As an attempt at alien role-play is hilariously undermined by asthma, we have our tone set for a play that places awkward, authentic conversations inside decidedly offbeat scenarios. In parallel, we meet Anna (Yvette Dunham) and Emily (Marisa May Sørensen) who are considering having a baby, featuring a spectacularly clumsy interview between Anna and potential sperm donor Robert (Calam McKernan).
Despite some very strong sexual references, the production never becomes graphic, instead finding comedy through language, physical gestures and movement – although the intimacy of the round gives one unfortunate audience member a particularly memorable front-row view of some (thankfully) implied action from Robert.
As both couples invite outsiders into their relationships, boundaries begin to blur. Jealousy and insecurity creep in, and fantasies that initially seem manageable begin slipping beyond their creators’ control.
Bradford brings an appealingly guileless introversion to Dan, particularly as a conversation with new lover Al (Laurence Farrow) somehow transforms mechanical engineering into nerdy hot talk and this bounces well against Lockwood’s exuberance as Leo.
Farrow gives Al an aloof confidence, while Dunham is excellent as Anna gradually finds herself becoming the third wheel in her own relationship, mirrored nicely by Sørensen’s charm as Emily.
McKernan is immensely likeable as Robert – perhaps almost too nice to entirely convince when the character takes a more menacing turn.
Roo Arwen’s tight direction keeps the two narratives moving briskly across the 65minute run time and allows Emmitt-Stern’s clever parallels to emerge naturally.
Occasionally diction suffers when emotions reach hysterical levels, and sometimes the chemistry between our various couples isn’t entirely believable, but these are relatively minor flaws in an engaging production.
Funny, sexually frank and increasingly uncomfortable, I F*cked You in My Spaceship uses outrageous and emotionally volatile situations to explore something surprisingly recognisable – what happens when desire, jealousy and changing relationships leave someone floating helplessly out of orbit.
I F*cked You in My Spaceship runs until Thursday 13th August. For tickets and more shows, visit https://kingsarmssalford.com/events/
Reviewer: Lou Steggals
Reviewed: 10th August 2026
North West End UK Rating:
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