DIARY OF A GAY DISASTER at the King’s Head Theatre
★★★★
“The energy is infectious, with belting performances from all three cast members.”
When Mark Ravenhill and Hannah Price took over as artistic directors of the King’s Head Theatre in 2021, Ravenhill promised that the theatre would seek to represent ‘the full spectrum of experiences symbolised by the rainbow flag’. This Pride Month festival is doing just that, four guest artistic directors front ‘The Takeover’ season with Diary of a Gay Disaster being part of Tania Azevedo’s MT Pride Lab Season.
The show is a joyous and unapologetic exploration of the young queer female experience, bursting with riotous pop songs and tightly written one-liners. It’s specific, and plays to an audience who will relate, but that’s the beauty of it.
Ellis (Elly Fenton) is a new flatmate, joining intense and over the top Mia (Talya Soames) and chilled out Finlay (Liv O’Connor), who she’s met via Spare Room. In a desperate attempt to bond, Mia steals Ellis’ diary and insists they have a big night together reading it, to celebrate Ellis’ arrival. All three women are queer, and the diary documents the experiences of Ellis, growing up as a queer woman. They quickly find they’ve shared many of the same experiences, and each chapter is dissected, and sung about, in a string of poppy and peppy tunes.
The energy is infectious, with belting performances from all three cast members. Their passion shines in their comedy, and it stays high octane for most of the show. The more emotional, heartfelt moments are a little weaker, the characters are quite broadly sketched, meaning their own relationships are less interesting than the universal, relatable experiences that they sing about. But the commentary on current queer dynamics, on growing up queer and navigating finding a community is fresh and fantastic. One of the catchiest songs, ‘Is she queer or just a hipster’ will be an earworm for the foreseeable future. The conversations being raised are important, but are dealt with deftly and lightly.
Much of what works is thanks to the tightly written script, by Rachael Mailer, and the dynamic directing of Tara Noonan (as well as musical director Cerys McKenna). For the right audience, this play is liberating and relatable, perfectly articulating many people’s lived experience. It is also very funny. Strangely, if it were just the songs, and had less of a plot, it might even be stronger. There is a romantic plot shoehorned in, which doesn’t have time to develop, so comes a bit out of the blue. The characters are kept, on the whole, as tropes, to sum up different experiences. But it is fresh, and very funny. For several of the creative team, and cast, it is their theatre debut, and for a first foray, it is very strong.
The set is a bold, but simple, living room arrangement. Colourful bean bags, cushions and a sofa, which the three women slouch around on, pop up dramatically from behind. The lighting (Billy Highfield) is great fun, changing based on each song’s energy.
This show is bursting with catchy tunes, and tongue in cheek, very real commentary on the young queer female experience. It is a delight to watch, and a testament of the exciting new queer theatre that the King’s Head is showcasing.
“This tiny production has no business being as good as it is and, the cherry on the cake, it is perfectly succinct”
The King’s Head brings to life Edgar Allan Poe’s short horror story in vivid brutal detail.
With no props, no stage design, the story is left entirely in the bloody hands of our anti-hero, played by Keaton Guimarães-Tolley, and multi-instrumentalist Catherine Warnock.
The story is a simple one, as with all great horror stories: a man, once tender of heart, grows restless and morose over the years, and in a drunken stupor murders his beloved cat. Henceforth he is plagued by guilt and eventually driven to madness.
Where some might have felt the need to add fuss and embellishment, this production understands that the story is made all the more affective by its plain telling. The narrator’s cravat, removed from his neck and tied into a small red noose, is plenty enough to make the audience gasp and shudder as an invisible cat hangs slack in its knot.
That being said, there is nothing plain about Catherine Warnock’s instrumentation. Moving easily and swiftly between clarinet, flute and violin to suit the scene, it’s really her presence that allows the King’s Head such a spartan design. Not only does she contribute the entire fraught soundtrack, but she also acts as wordless long-suffering wife, and silent jury to the narrator’s crimes. An ingenious addition to an otherwise one-man play, giving depth and true terror to this small tale.
Keaton Guimarães-Tolley shows fantastic range, beginning as a sweet, gangly goof, and morphing into a monstrous wreck. A perfect casting.
This tiny production has no business being as good as it is and, the cherry on the cake, it is perfectly succinct. There’s no need for an interval to break the building tension, because it’s all over in 45 minutes, and the audience is left reeling out of the auditorium, wanting only to go home and hold their cats lovingly and whisper, “I would never.”
