★★★★

“the ensemble takes the audience through violence, turmoil and tenderness”

We open to a startling flash of light burnishing a grimy public lavatory as a small but mighty voice coming from a cubicle proclaims “I don’t need any help” to his exasperated father. Boys on the Verge of Tears is an exploration of masculinity from learning to pee in the toilet to emptying a colostomy bag; always defiantly rejecting help from others.

This striking debut by Sam Grabiner, winner of the Verity Bargate Award, confronts its subject through a series of sketches featuring a plethora of characters representing brands of man. Each scene is self-contained with episodes rolling into each other continuously. The costumes aid this tremendously (I want that rotary phone handbag desperately!) with some impressive quick-changes occurring as the merry-go-round of manhood turns (Ashley Martin-Davis). The bathroom deteriorates over the course of the show, picking up bruises and graffiti whilst containing some well executed surprises (Ashley Martin-Davis).

The cast depict giggling children, disturbing teenagers and glamourous drag queens with heart and variation. Highlights include the troubled but eerily realistic Jack (Matthew Beard), bitchy queen Maureen (David Carlyle) who showed extraordinary range throughout, frightened and vulnerable Jo (Calvin Demba) whose performance gave power to the play’s ideas, world weary Santa Claus (Tom Espiner) and mischievous but adorable Zaid (Maanuv Thiara). Directed by James Macdonald, the ensemble takes the audience through violence, turmoil and tenderness between men, with clear commentary on needing more of the latter. There are moments when characters evoke other iterations; “it was absurd” being said by two men with sexist attitudes towards women, but manifesting it differently. The group scenes feel very naturalistic and accurate, instigating the occasional shudder of teenage memories. The ensemble have brilliant chemistry and comradery.

The play has no main character and a relatively loose structure. Characters catch brief glimpses of the future as scenes merge into one another. Whilst allowing for more abstract explorations of masculinity it also prevented further depth being explored. We meet these men for mere moments, barely scratching their surface, evoking loneliness and shallowness. Chekov’s gun is cocked, but never fired in the form of a knife that is introduced and not really used, perhaps to subvert expectations, but also feels disjointed. On occasion, there were too many interruptions of minor characters which broke moments of tension, and some scenes lacked resolution, ending abruptly. The jump between the chaos of the night life sequence to palliative care felt reductive and cliché of a lifetime; surely there are more midlife experiences to draw on? Is masculinity really about fighting and clubbing then fatherhood and death? Perhaps I reveal my own naiveté to this suggestion…maybe it is? Boys on the Verge of Tears asks why men refuse help from each other and how men’s bodies can be destructive and vulnerable in all their beauty and strength.

FOAM at the Finborough Theatre

★★★★

“The execution of the story is fascinating and the reflection on the punk and queer scene of the time is illuminating”

Foam is a biographical story about a gay neo-Nazi from 1974 to 1993. We follow his life through a series of conversations with other gay men, all taking place in a public toilet from the day he shaves his head to… the final bathroom. The show depicts racially sensitive subject matter, homophobia and violence (Jess Tucker Boyd as fight director). Some of the conversations are up for interpretation with regards to the takeaway message.

The audience enter to the sounds of a dripping echoey lavatory (David Segun Olowu). The room is plunged into darkness as startling punk music clangs around the intimate Finborough Theatre, with the audience sat on three sides. Lights up on Nicky with shaving foam on his head. Written by Harry McDonald and directed by Mathew Lliffe, Foam is an intense, cerebral and provocative examination of the dichotomous person that was Nicky Crane. The conversations are wide ranging; confrontational, sexually charged and also humorous as Nicky tries to connect with other queer men through the changing eras of the punk and gay clubbing scene.

The set is evocative and timeless with its industrial white tiled walls, blurry mirrors and fixtures of a public convenience (Nitin Parmar). It is lit with atmospheric colours and makes use of the glazed windows above and light seeping through the centre stage cubical. Colours creep into scenes slowly, before you notice the ‘rosey tint’ of Nicky’s memories (Jonathan Chan).

“Walker multi-roles these characters with tension and levity opposite Richards who is terrifying and desperate

McDonald takes artistic license as Nicky Crane (Jake Richards) meets Mosely (Matthew Baldwin), fascism incarnate, who seduces Nicky in more ways than one. Baldwin is electric and commanding whilst Richards is an unsure but intrigued teenager. Whilst gripping and absorbing, the blurring of homosexual awakening and right-wing radicalisation could be considered an unfair comparison, but others may read into the scene differently. Later on, we meet characters who seem attracted to Nicky’s ‘look’ in the form of Gabriel and Christopher (Kishore Walker) who display a nonchalant attitude to his skinhead identity. The play presents affronting examination of LGBTQ individuals who tolerate and entertain the hypocrisy of Nicky, even liking what he represents. Nicky can only exist as a Nazi if there are other gay people who choose to ignore or fetishise his tattoos and worldview. Walker multi-roles these characters with tension and levity opposite Richards who is terrifying and desperate.

A scene that provokes interrogation is that of Bird (Keanu Adolphus Johnson), a black gay man who Nicky corners in a club bathroom. The two men discuss Nicky’s crimes, which were unmentioned until this point, his targets including a nine year old. This is the only time Nicky and the audience is confronted with an overt rejection of right wing extremism and the impact of his crimes on victims, which bares noting. Johnson presents Bird as strong and secure in his queerness and in his rejection of Nicky in a powerful argument. The bravery of Bird is admirable, but potentially defangs the stakes of what Nicky represents. The final scene brings back Baldwin as Craig, a kind loving figure, starkly different to Mosely.

Foam tackles Crane’s life with depth and precision. In a story about neo-Nazis and hypocrisy, there was less focus on the consequences of his hate crimes and more on his strange double life and the people that populated it. The execution of the story is fascinating and the reflection on the punk and queer scene of the time is illuminating. The cast were superb and transfixing under Lliffe’s direction. Nicky Crane was a real man who committed hate crimes. There remains some discussion to be had about what the show was trying to say, and who got to say it. But It is clear that the play definitely invites these important conversations.

BOYS ON THE VERGE OF TEARS at the Soho Theatre

★★★★

“the ensemble takes the audience through violence, turmoil and tenderness”

BOYS ON THE VERGE OF TEARS at the Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 18th April 2024

by Jessica Potts

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

BOYS ON THE VERGE OF TEARS

BOYS ON THE VERGE OF TEARS

FOAM at the Finborough Theatre

★★★★

“The execution of the story is fascinating and the reflection on the punk and queer scene of the time is illuminating”

“Walker multi-roles these characters with tension and levity opposite Richards who is terrifying and desperate