No Place Like Home, written and performed by Alex Roberts, fuses music, dance, spoken word and video design to explore gay club culture and the impact of shame on queer identity and community. Roberts performs a visceral, lyrical text, telling the story of young gay man Connor who meets Rob, an older gay guy who works on the bar at a local club. Connor is fresh to the scene with less experience and is looking for guidance. Maybe Rob will be able to help with that. But having a healthy relationship with your sexuality and even potential partners is hard when the spaces you need are difficult to find.
Roberts’ text is beautifully nuanced, witty, funny and deeply emotional. He practically sings through parts of it, creating a lovely rapport with the audience. This pays off hugely as the story progresses and things become darker; more vulnerable. By the end of the show, Roberts’ face is smudged with tears; the music, movement and story all build to a difficult climax. Still, there is ambiguity in the text, and the show is less a preachy message singing to the converted, rather instead exploring the complexities of queer sex culture.
Video sometimes feels like an add-on, or a replacement for set which doesn’t always work, but that’s definitely not the case here. Virginie Taylor’s video design in this is superb. It’s a vital part of the storytelling. Human bodies dance and rave, immersing Roberts in the club space, with flashes of neon-coloured lights and sparkles. Roberts effortlessly transitions between the two central characters, the flick of his cap and adjustments to his voice and body language making the switch. Connor is light and vulnerable. Rob is tougher, more grounded and confident.
Underneath the smoke, and Jac Cooper’s electric sound design and composition, is an exploration of the play’s title; a question of what or where is home, as we witness Connor’s attempt to find it. At one moment, during the club’s stripping contest, Roberts removes his shorts and jacket to reveal a Dorothy dress underneath. The imagery of Dorothy clicking her heels appears at another moment, projected onto the background. It’s a clear motif that runs really nicely throughout the show.
At the risk of telling a story that’s been told many times before, Roberts avoids this by presenting something fresh, unique and totally compelling. He’s a brilliant storyteller, and the blend of artforms in this show makes it very special indeed.
Reviewed 10th August 2022
by Joseph Winer
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“A couple of the numbers were so camp, it was like watching a medieval Village People”
Joan Of Leeds was an English nun, who bored of her monastic life, feigned mortal illness, constructed a dummy of herself which was buried in holy ground and hot-footed it off to Beverley to shack up with a man. This account only came to light this year, when a research project into the Registry of the Archbishops Of York for 1305-1405, uncovered historical notes documenting this story.
Breach Theatre Company have done what any self-respecting group would do and turned it into a bawdy, medieval musical. Presenting themselves as The Yorkshire Medieval Players, the opening scene cleverly sets the tone for the fun and frolics ahead.
The set with a starry back cloth and cardboard clouds and an apple tree, looks a little ‘primary school’ and yet works perfectly with the style of the piece.
Joan, in this production, during a severe famine, is tempted by the devil and ends up in a convent where she falls in love with fellow nun Agnes. Refusing to admit her true feelings, she runs away to Beverley to live with the man who is in love with her. Interesting to see the ‘queer’ angle explored, although the world has changed beyond recognition in five hundred years, maybe human desires and feelings have not.
This is brilliantly directed by Billy Barrett who co-wrote the play with Ellice Stevens. Cast appeared on gantries, up trap doors, through curtains, each time delivering real attack and comic timing to the character they were portraying. With all the outrageous costumes and Python like silliness, it was easy to overlook some of the brilliantly constructed rhyming text, much of it as ingenious and lyrical as the musical numbers themselves.
The five strong cast were all terrific, Bryony Davies showing us angst, anger, vulnerability and bewilderment as the tormented Joan, Rachel Barnes, Olivia Hirst, Laurie Jamieson and Alex Roberts all matched her with their highly skilled performances.
One particularly clever scene change took the whole audience by surprise, only when we stepped into this domestic set, did the pace drop a little. Although I understood the purpose of the scene, this show is at its strongest when the five actors are bouncing off each other. They are all so musically talented and versatile, we were treated to musical styles from Broadway to madrigal to a jaw dropping, thrash metal finale. A couple of the numbers were so camp, it was like watching a medieval Village People.
Not your most traditional of seasonal shows and all the more enjoyable for this very reason. This is an extraordinary story, maybe one of the earliest demonstrations of ‘Girl Power’ from a most unexpected source.
Although Breach Theatre Company have adapted this story with their own unique style, if history lessons had been like this at school, I would never have missed a class.
