Review: F*CK MACHINE - Contact Theatre, Manchester (04/06/26)
- James Tradgett
- Jun 5
- 3 min read
Quirky but bold and calculated new play provides insightful spotlight for online sex work
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There is undoubtedly still a major, deeply ingrained stigma that surrounds sex work in the western world, due to a mix of moral and legal grey areas, as well as traditionalist views on its practice, and its historically exploitative nature. And whilst the major shift to working online, through sites such as OnlyFans, has given those using it to earn a living a far greater degree of control and anonymity, there is still no denying the potential risk and damage to one's mental health, given how others can make someone feel pressure to push beyond their comfortable limits.

Our story is presented by writer Helena Braithwaite and fellow actor Frankie Lipman, as aspiring online adult star by the pseudonym "Baby", and seasoned professional in the field "Bunny" respectively. We follow the former, a young woman working in a restaurant, who feels disillusioned with her menial existence, and like many other young workers, finding escapism from within the confines of social media. She decides to take the plunge and do something that takes her far outside of her comfort zone, following a particularly racy response from a stranger to a bikini photo on her personal social media profile. What starts as a little fun on the side, eventually, with help and guidance from her veteran mentor Bunny, ends up consuming her entire life, and shows just how far one can go to be adored by others, even at the expense of their own personal ethics and boundaries.
The build of layers into this narrative is very cleverly done, as is the way in which more risqué notions, such as nudity and self pleasure, are presented, all in an unfiltered yet tasteful manner, always focussing on the clever and comedic, rather than being particularly crude. Initially we have a rather light hearted, jovial, even comical tone set by Braithwaite and Lipman, with clowning, comedy, and classic show tunes, such as those from Sweet Charity and Annie Get Your Gun, all used to terrific effect, and showcasing the two women's considerable performance prowess with panache. Whilst we do laugh and share in these two women's joy, there is something far more sinister lying in wait to reveal itself, which it does gradually but noticeably, like a virus infecting your computer; where this piece really comes into its own, and its message truly hits home, is as we enter the final stretch.

Here, we see the facade begin to melt away, and it shifts our focus entirely from empowerment to exploitation, as we explore the damage that is often done by adolescent sexual assault, how online anonymity can be as dangerous and dehumanising as it is emboldening, and how those who pay for online content can just as easily take their business elsewhere, leaving one feeling discarded and worthless. That is the fickle nature of the industry, which is marvellously, hauntingly satirised, and digging deeper we reveal a much darker underlying message relating to how easily commodified women's bodies in particular can be, and the adverse effect it can have on their mental and physical wellbeing.
"F*ck Machine" sensationally blurs the lines between morality and legality, whilst tearing down the walls between the often faceless, nameless explicit material we see online, and the very real people whom spend the time sharing it, profiting from it, and often experiencing every emotion under the sun because of it. This play is entertaining, full of life, but also equally deeply uncomfortable and arresting, and in many ways feels like essential viewing in a time when the conversation surrounding online safety is particularly potent.
★★★★☆ (4*)
"F*ck Machine" runs at the Contact Theatre in Manchester until the 6th of June (tickets)
{PR/Gifted tickets}





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