Wanderlust, episode 2, review: This adaptation goes from pornified self-indulgence to asking ethical questions

Wanderlust is about the “open marriage” of Joy and Alan Richards (Toni Collette and Steven Mackintosh), a middle-aged couple. They love each other, but their sex life has lost its zing. Bored, and frustrated, they decide – logically and consensually – to go out and take lovers. Which they do.

At one point, Joy characterises their evolving relationship as “the right to snack”, but also to enjoy a full roast at home, so to speak.

Now, I have always thought that an “open marriage” is like an open sandwich – superficially mouth-watering, but inherently unstable and prone to falling apart at the first bite. Wanderlust, so far, has vindicated that belief.

Yes, Alan and Joy find that their experiment works for them. When they return from their first forays into adultery, they regale one another with the delicious details. It turns them on, and they get the old hammers and tongs out.

But the time comes for them to tell their respective lovers that they, the lovers, are in fact merely being used to add a bit of spice to the Richards’s jaded relationship. So Joy confesses the truth over a drink to Marvin, a dull-but-fit copper she picked up at the swimming pool (William Ash). His tedious conversation revolves around the merits of tasers; but, plus side, he proves an excellent cunnilinguist (which is not easy to get your tongue around, I know). He takes Joy’s brutal news badly, declares himself “disappointed”, and accuses her of “greed”. Seems fair.

Alan, on his, parallel, date, is cheerfully matter of fact towards his fellow schoolteacher Claire (Zawe Ashton) about Joy knowing all about it, right down to the used condom. She too is dreadfully unprepared for this, and hurt: “No relationship? Just sex?”. ’Fraid so, Claire. At this moment Joy and Alan do seem supremely arrogant.

Well, I must say it got me wondering what exactly are the moral, physical, legal even financial limits to what some couples must be prepared to do just to sustain a marriage in a bit of trouble. Is it OK to hurt other people? How much? Or is it OK only if they too are sex maniacs, or if they get paid to pleasure you?

Would it be all right if, say, Joy joined the Uxbridge Conservative Association and copped off with local MP Boris Johnson at the annual reception? Would it be just fine if Joy came home one night smelling a bit funny and casually mentioned that her new f*** buddy was “into scat”? What if Alan’s latest sexual partner has glossy blond hair, four legs, will chew on a bone all day long, answers to the name Honey and is registered with the Golden Retriever Club? Or what if they spent their life savings on sex workers who’d been trafficked into modern slavery?

In all seriousness, what are the limits? Is marriage such a sacrosanct thing that anything goes to save one?

For the first time in this adaptation of Nick Payne’s stage play, I found myself with my teeth into some intellectual, ethical flesh. Before that it was more like sitting through a pornified episode of Emmerdale.

Last week’s episode, without being indelicate, was, literally, a load of old wank. This week’s was less self-indulgent. The direction and production were well executed – I liked the unusual camera angles matching unusual sexual angles, the inter-cutting of Alan/Joy’s selfish shaggings, and the musical interlude. Next week we will discover what the Richards’s children make of the sexual smorgasbord they have caught their parents feasting on, and rather messily with it. I’m ready for my third date with Wanderlust. Fancy a threesome?

The series continues on Tuesday on BBC1