Brendon Ludlow
22 Aug 2026
The Only Man Who Won’t F*ck Me ★★★
Sex, Obsession and the One Man Who Says No
The Only Man Who Won’t F*ck Me is a raw, sex-positive and thoroughly modern piece of solo theatre that sits somewhere between confession, therapy session and one woman’s increasingly complicated pursuit of the thing she can’t have.
Catherine Taaffe plays Kat, a New York sex worker who seemingly knows exactly what men want — until she falls for a trans man who doesn’t want to have sex with her. From there, the writing explores desire, rejection, obsession and the uncomfortable places we can find ourselves when affection isn’t reciprocated.
There’s an almost therapeutic quality to the storytelling. Kat talks directly to us with the openness of someone unpacking their life on the couch, and therapy itself sits within the world of the piece. It makes for an intimate relationship between performer and audience.
The writing is unapologetically sex-positive and body-positive. A line about it taking just 63 blowjobs to afford a new set of tits gives you a fairly accurate indication of the show’s humour and refusal to sanitise the realities of its protagonist’s life.
Set specifically within Bushwick, Brooklyn, the play also gives us glimpses into the complicated realities of sex work and queer life in New York. (Beyond The Curtain) It feels contemporary and lived-in rather than like an outsider’s interpretation of these worlds.
Taaffe is a strong storyteller, maintaining a good pace throughout with confident blocking and an assured overall performance. The lighting design also works particularly well for a solo performer, helping define and shift the space without unnecessarily complicating the production.
Perhaps the most interesting element is that Kat isn’t always easy to side with. At times, she is arguably the antagonist of her own story, yet you still find yourself sympathising with her. You understand the frustration, sadness and longing underneath behaviour that becomes increasingly complex. That tension gives the writing some of its strongest moments.
The Only Man Who Won’t Fuck Me is sad, funny, sexually frank and occasionally uncomfortable. It’s a solid piece of contemporary queer theatre with strong writing and a compelling central performance.
It doesn’t quite make the leap from very good to exceptional, but it’s knocking firmly on the door.
★★★