AFTER THE ACT

Royal Court

★★

“it remains an interesting and worthwhile history lesson”

Jenny lives with Eric and Martin was just another children’s book in 1988. It wasn’t new and wasn’t even originally British, as it had first been published in Copenhagen in 1982. So how did this book become the starting point of a campaign, which ultimately led to the inclusion of Section 28 within the Local Government Act of 1988? After the Act is an entertaining musical, which tells the story of Section 28 through the eyes of those most closely affected.

‘Section 28’ refers to a specific clause with the Local Government Act of 1988, which prohibited schools from ‘promoting’ homosexuality, the wording of which was ambiguous enough that it resulted in the restriction of teaching of the acceptability of homosexuality, particularly concerning family relationships.

It is a strange era to look back on. Views that would be considered to be politically extreme nowadays were front and centre and were actually winning the argument. An imaginary enemy had been conjured up, largely driven by ignorance and misunderstanding. After the Act explores this period of recent history from multiple vital perspectives: teachers who could not speak up for risk of jeopardising their careers, students for whom bullying and discrimination had become a part of their everyday existence and the activists who fought hard to educate people and bring about real change.

The play splits fairly evenly into two halves. In the first act, we see the build-up to the passing of the Act in 1988. The tone is set clearly early in the play. People’s concerns about gay people are not challenged, whereas protestors are dismissed as mad rabble-rousers. Two scenes stand out in the first act. The first is where protestors have made it on the news at 6 on the BBC but are being silenced (fitting for the time) to not disrupt the broadcast. The second is the re-enactment of protestors abseiling into the House of Lords following the passing of the bill. These scenes are excellently written (Billy Barrett and Ellice Stevens) paying tribute to the real-life activists involved.

The second act covers the aftermath to the passing of the Act before it was eventually repealed in 2003, detailing the experiences of people who had to live through this time period and how it affected them well beyond the law had been changed. This should be the point where it all comes together. However, the biggest issue is the contradiction between its comedic elements and the hard-hitting truths that it wishes to divulge. The tone of most of the first act is strangely uplifting and funny, which is maintained through to the start of the second act, when one of the performers enters the stage dressed as Margaret Thatcher and sings as the former Prime Minister.

The individual elements of the play are interesting and well-performed, and all of the cast display an impressive range as they move from character to character bringing to life more people’s stories from this period. However, these parts often work against each other without a clear link to the central narrative, rather appearing more like a slide show of different characters.

Keyboard and drums add a lively accompaniment to the performances on stage. Sadly, the backing music and use of songs is often overdone and is too much of an ‘ever-present’ during the show rather peaking for significant moments, which does make it a little tiring, giving the show an impression of ‘more bark than bite’. Overall, despite its flaws as a production, it remains an interesting and worthwhile history lesson, which deserves to be taught.

AFTER THE ACT

Royal Court

Reviewed on 27th May 2025

by Luke Goscomb

Photography by Alex Brenner

AFTER THE ACT

AFTER THE ACT at the New Diorama Theatre

★★★★★

“a powerful and inspired piece of theatre”

In 1988, the Conservative government introduced a series of laws across Britain under Section 28 that prohibited the “promotion of homosexuality” by local authorities. Whipped up by media panic and the Danish book ‘Jenny lives with Eric and Martin’, the bill had a devastating effect on the lives of LGBTQ+ people and still leaves a terrifying legacy within the teaching profession.

20 years after the infamous bills’ repeal, multi-award-winning theatre company Breach (It’s True, It’s True, It’s True) have transformed archival interviews from teachers, activists and students who lived and worked during the reign of Section 28 into a verbatim musical complete with impassioned songs accompanied by 80s synth. Directed by company co-founder Billy Barrett, this musical feels all the more pertinent as trans rights become more restrictive than ever within the United Kingdom.

The cast – Tika Mu’tamir, Ellice Stevens (also co-founder and writer), EM Williams and Zachary Willis – re-enact the accounts of various different stakeholders in the bill whilst wearing a jazzy selection of 80s outfits. The singing is for the most part quite strong – especially Mu’tamir – though more is spoken than explicitly sung so that the words used can be thoroughly digested by the audience. A jaunty tune relaying the various slurs hurled at gay people is particularly good.

There is a vague chronology to the show though we jump back and forward in time when best suits. We begin with the storming of the BBC TV Studio by lesbian activists before following the campaign of terror launched by the Tory party and right-wing groups over materials available via Haringey Council to present a positive image of gay and lesbian people. Other iconic moments include a group of activists abseiling into the House of Lords after Section 28 is made law as well as various debates within the Commons where homophobic comments are made with (pardon the pun) gay abandon.

Stevens gives a particularly fantastic performance. Her comic timing is impeccable and her performance as a near-drag Margaret Thatcher to open the second half is simply fantastic. Williams and Mu’tamir provide great support and narrative direction as they effectively recreate one interview between pairs of lesbian activitists who took part in the storming of the BBC and abseiling into the House of Lords to protest the bill respectively. Willis brings a wonderful tenderness to his retelling of a young gay man who attempted suicide at school due to the lack of support, guidance or communication about his sexuality.

Archival footage and backdrops are projected onto the sets various layered walls (Leach). These are sometimes playful, at other times deadly serious as we see young men in hospital with AIDS. The use of video adds great movement to the set that is otherwise rather plain though makes great use of levels and steps to enhance the space. The musicians – Frew and Ellie Showering – station themselves above the stage on a raised platform and provide a thoroughly energetic performance.

A sheer sheet and projector is used for a fair chunk of the first half which works particularly well when we are watching Sue Lawley deliver her news broadcast but provides a bit of a psychological barrier as we move to real-life testimony. It is welcome when it is removed. It is also a shame that the platform on which the musicians are stationed is not utilised for the famous abseil though health and safety concerns are of course understood!

After the Act is a powerful and inspired piece of theatre. The songs are inventive and engaging and the performances are thoroughly heartfelt. This is a must-see.

Tag Archives: Billy Barrett

AFTER THE ACT

★★

Royal Court

AFTER THE ACT

Royal Court

★★

“it remains an interesting and worthwhile history lesson”