“To see the moments of queer joy that are portrayed here is truly a pleasure”
The P Word, written by Waleed Akhtar, finds itself caught in the space between a two hander and a series of monologues. The play remains grounded, however, by its layered character and their wit.
Bilal, played by Akhtar, details to the audience his experiences as a British Pakistani man in the gay dating scene. He lets his prejudices, fatphobia and islamophobia in particular, be known early on, as well as sources of their internalization. Zafar, played by Esh Alladi, arrives onstage mid-trauma: engaged in an unsuccessful bid to seek asylum in the UK, his partner murdered, his life endangered by a homophobic father were he to be deported to Pakistan. The play only kicks into gear, however, when the two characters bump into one another in the middle of Soho during Pride.
The set, designed by Max Johns, is minimal and elegant. A raised, circular, rotating platform, carries the characters temporally through the play. Each half of the platform tilts in the opposite direction, and LED light illuminates the outline of each semicircle, enclosing Bilal and Zafar in their disparate experiences for the first half of the play. Small compartments built into the set facilitate quick changes, allowing both actors to remain onstage for the duration of the play. These transitions, however, can feel rushed, more marked than they are performed.
Before Bilal and Zafar meet, they communicate exclusively in parallel monologue. Most of the unseen characters in Zafar monologues—a stranger, his mother, a healthcare worker—make their presence known through voiceover. Akhtar steps outside of Bilal’s character with more regularity, voicing his hookups and co-workers, lending his monologues the quality of a one-person show. This particular directorial choice by Anthony Simpson-Pike could be intended to further distinguish Bilal and Zafar’s narratives, but it results in a garbled theatrical language. The formal discrepancy, along with the duration of the parallel monologue sections, lends a dragging and uneven quality to the first half of the play, despite strong performances from Akhtar and Alladi.
Even after Bilal and Zafar have had their chance encounter and begin to share scenes, these parallel monologues persist. The two characters frequently break from engaging moments of dialogue to speak directly to the audience, halting the pace of the second half. The P Word finds its emotional core within the extended and mostly uninterrupted scenes between Bilal and Zafar. Bilal confronts his internalized prejudices, while Zafar begins to heal from the murder of his partner, Haroon. These scenes are both tender and emotionally fraught, blissfully banal and high stakes. To see the moments of queer joy that are portrayed here is truly a pleasure.
In The P Word’s final moments, following a somewhat sensationalized and romanticized conclusion, the world of the play briefly cracks. Though the break seems to be inspired by works such as Jackie Sibblies Dury’s ‘Fairview’, it reads more like an admission than it does a true confrontation, inadvertently letting the audience and performance off the hook.
“a refreshing change from all the Dick Whittingtons and Christmas Carols on offer this holiday season”
The latest seasonal offering from the Charles Court Opera is Beowulf, billed as an “epic panto.” It has just opened at the King’s Head Theatre in Islington, and is sure to please fans of the Company’s work. For those new to the Charles Court Opera—come ready to watch a show that is as subversive as it is entertaining. The cast of six take on Beowulf with just the right amount of energy and enthusiasm and, true to the traditions of panto, provide plenty of moments for the audience to join in the fun.
The first of several surprises awaiting the audience is watching what writer and director John Savournin has done to the original story. This Beowulf takes a radical departure from the Anglo Saxon text to bring us a sensitive, compassionate hero and a kick ass fashionista princess who doesn’t need any help protecting her kingdom, thank you very much. The next surprise is that it’s still in verse a lot of the time (if you can call doggerel poetry). The text goes into battle at every opportunity armed with outrageous puns and double entendre. The Charles Court Opera’s Beowulf is a singing, dancing, updated panto that is an alluring, full throttle parody of every monster story you’ve ever loved to hate. It also has a happy ending. Last, but certainly not least, this show is full of themes that will resonate with LGBTQIA audiences everywhere.
That’s not to say that the production is totally flawless. Beowulf does get off to a slow start as the performers, heavily cloaked, file on stage. The weightiness continues as the cast intones the first lines of the poem—in Anglo-Saxon. Then we meet the main characters, and suddenly everything becomes lighter—and a lot more fun. As Beowulf reverts to modern English, we discover that Beowulf has only arrived at Princess Hrothmund’s hall to play hero because of family pressure. Sound familiar? In reality, our hero is a chill guy who’s more into making friends than monster slaying. More importantly, his best friend Wiglaff is in love with him, and is trying to find the right moment to declare himself. Writer Savournin adds a greatly misunderstood monster in Grendel (who is also looking for friends—and his missing father). This Grendel just needs the right hero to come along to take him camping. Yes, this Beowulf is delightfully camp, and the cast make the most of it. Matthew Kellett (Beowulf) makes a sympathetic anti-hero, but the stand out performances come from Emily Cairns as Wiglaff, and Jennie Jacobs as Grendel’s Mother. Philip Lee as Grendel and Julia Mariko Smith as Princess Hrothmund strut their stuff in flamboyant costumes, (designed by Stewart J Charlesworth) despite the formidable competition from Grendel’s Mamma. The quality of the singing is so good that it does make one wonder from time to time if the production has escaped from a major opera house only to re-emerge in a small, dark pub theatre. And it is a pub theatre sized show, so there are also moments when one feels Savournin needs to rein in his enthu-siastic company (and his imagination) before the whole thing goes off the rails—but what the heck, it’s panto. Of course he can throw a dragon into the mix if he wants to.
The Charles Court Opera’s Beowulf is a refreshing change from all the Dick Whittingtons and Christmas Carols on offer this holiday season, so don’t hesitate to take the family (or the office party) to the King’s Head for a show that hits all the right notes. You’ll never see Beowulf quite the same way again.
