★★★

“Director Georgia Rankcom steers the show deftly through its ninety minutes, not allowing it to drag, and the overall show claims a unique quality”

From the moment Ben and Ami meet on a hillside we know we are looking out onto a lush, Romcom landscape. A warm glow washes over us as the filmic, easy-listening chords are plucked from the piano, cello and guitar accompaniment. The dialogue is snappy and the premise is quirky. The delivery is faultless and at the same time effortless. We hope we are going to be jolted out of our comfort zone, but instead of being challenged, we allow ourselves simply to be drawn into the story. Which is a delight, in no small way due to the polished performances of Jacob Fowler and Grace Mouat.

The chance meeting on the hillside is preordained. Ben and Ami have both been here before. Ami remembers everything but Ben is a blank canvas. The backstory is revealed swiftly enough, and it is now up to the couple to piece together their second chance at a happy ending. Ben has the disadvantage. He remembers nothing of their past relationship due to amnesia caused by a car accident just at the point things were starting to go horribly wrong with them. Ami decides not to reveal their past together, leading him on for too long. Her reasons are slightly implausible, but a necessary device to stoke the narrative with the tension it needs.

The story swings back and forth from the present to the past, each episode giving us more insight into the ‘before’ and ‘after’ relationship. There are the usual pitfalls, jealousies and arguments, but Timothy Knapman’s crisp and often witty text give them a fresh makeover, and Fowler and Mouat pitch the characterisation with a relaxed authenticity. They are both highly watchable and in fine voice throughout. Refreshingly no amplification is used, and the balance is spot on as the couple project over the trio of musicians. There is a chamber music quality that allows Stuart Matthew Prices’ lyrics to reach us, unfiltered and crystal clear.

There is a comfortable predictability and solutions become a bit oversimplified, that we long for more hazards, or twists, to trip us up. Similarly, the score drives along at a safe rate with few gear changes. Nevertheless, there is much to enjoy, not least the chemistry between our two lovebirds. Director Georgia Rankcom steers the show deftly through its ninety minutes, not allowing it to drag, and the overall show claims a unique quality. During the moments of dialogue, we look forward to the next musical number, and during the songs we look forward to the next spoken scene. In no way a criticism of either, it is testament to the fine balance and connection between lyricist, composer and writer. Scenes mould seamlessly into song and vice versa, just as past and present intertwine as though in a well-choreographed waltz. Lines are echoed and repeated, taking on a new meaning depending in which time zone they are spoken.

Originally produced at the same venue during lockdown as a live streamed rehearsed reading, the reception back then was one of eager anticipation for the show to be fully realised on the stage. That was before, and this is after. The show feels as though it is still somewhere in the middle, and there is still another ‘after’ to come. A central premise of the musical is the question that asks, ‘is what comes after better than before’. This revival affirms the positivity that the story reflects, and we look forward to it standing the test of time.

AFTERGLOW at Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“Stylistic scene changes and some beautifully choreographed moments lend a filmic quality”

Rarely does the phrase ‘the tea has gone cold’ carry such metaphorical and emotional clout. Spoken silently, almost subliminally, it is a pivotal moment. One of many that distance S. Asher Gelman’s “Afterglow” from the expectations created by the packaging and promo shots. There is a lot of baring of bodies, but the baring of souls waits until the clothes are back on.

Alex (Victor Hugo) and Josh (Peter McPherson) are a thirty-something married couple, about to have a baby via a surrogate mother. Comfortably off, they can afford the hedonism that fills the hours away from their respective jobs. Their epicurean sensibilities allow them to conduct an open relationship, albeit with rules and boundaries. When a younger Darius (James Nicholson) crosses the threshold, those boundaries are broken. The inner consequences are what this play is all about rather than the highly toned, lust-inducing flesh that triggers the landslide.

Gelman, who also directs and choreographs the piece, sets the mood from the outset. Three figures writhe; mere silhouettes behind a curtain of white gauze like some kind of human lava lamp. Evocative and mysterious until the curtain drops, and the mystique vanishes, giving way to post coital banter that introduces the three characters. They use the words well to establish themselves, creating an easy rapport and a sizzling chemistry that burns the sweat off their torsos. But once the hierarchy is laid down, it does drift for a while into familiar armchair philosophy and tried-and-tested discussions of love, loyalty, trust and commitment.

But once the exposition is out of the way, the performances cut into the raw emotion of their characters. The three actors are equally impressive in their portrayal of the complexities of this love triangle. The tugs of war between conflicting needs are evoked through tone and mannerism as well as language. Stylistic scene changes and some beautifully choreographed moments lend a filmic quality – a gloss that is chipped away the more the harmony of the relationships crumble. Loyalties are tested to the extreme, and secrets uncovered as we go along. The freedom these characters seemingly possess is perversely more of a shackle than monogamous commitment.

Ann Beyersdorfer’s cleverly changeable set, and Jamie Roderick’s dynamic lighting together create a slick, gay world. Although this is not necessarily gay theatre because the writing would work equally well with any combination of gender or disposition. The explicitness is somehow less shocking, however, in the setting of a young, male, gay threesome than it perhaps would have been in other configurations. One wonders: would this show court more controversy if the protagonists were mixed genders, or women? It is a moot point though. What matters is the honesty of the story being told, and Hugo, McPherson and Nicholson have the strength and talent to bring it to life. Beneath the promiscuity is a dignity and vulnerability. A deep-seated need just to ‘belong’.

An afterglow is what remains when the light has disappeared. The word is often misappropriated to be used as something that is desirable. To be basked in. “Afterglow” questions this concept with a finely tuned look at human relationships and the consequences of our actions. What remains when trust has disappeared? When the damage is done, and everything has changed? There are many lines crossed before the question is raised, and even then, the play can’t answer it. But it is definitely worth going to see it try.

BEFORE AFTER at Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★

“Director Georgia Rankcom steers the show deftly through its ninety minutes, not allowing it to drag, and the overall show claims a unique quality”

BEFORE AFTER at Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 9th February 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Danny Kaan

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues

BEFORE AFTER

BEFORE AFTER

AFTERGLOW at Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“Stylistic scene changes and some beautifully choreographed moments lend a filmic quality”