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.
“Bucchino’s songs embrace the full spectrum of contemporary urban living with sensitivity and wit”
It’s Only Life, John Bucchino and Daisy Prince’s musical revue of twenty-three heart-breaking and hilarious songs, is already a well-known enterprise in the world of American musical theatre. And rightly so: Bucchino’s songs embrace the full spectrum of contemporary urban living with sensitivity and wit. Laid side by side, the songs dip, twist and soar, telling a collective story of stasis, desire, love, heartbreak and redemption.
The ensemble of five performers master these songs beautifully. Recent graduates Sammy Graham and Will Carey keep their cool amongst the more experienced performers Jennifer Harding, Noel Sullivan and Jordan Shaw, and, apart from some lyrics getting lost at the beginning, the vocals are flawless. Harding exudes pathos narrating the crossing paths of two lovers in ‘Sweet Dreams’, and Carey memorably toys with his audience in the hilarious ‘On My Bedside Table’, gritting his teeth trying to prove he is not at all phased by “the fact that you and I are definitely through”. ‘Grateful’ bookends the piece and allows Sullivan a moment to show off his vocal range and power. It’s refreshing that these performers can show restraint when it’s needed. This is a show about the songs and the story, not ego.
Justin Williams’ design stands out from the off. Cleverly using pastel blues, pinks, greens and oranges on a simple white background, Williams has created a space where props are close to hand and levels are used to maximum effect. Our stories can move from downtown bars to lonely bedrooms with little effort and give the songs a crucial context. Tania Azevedo’s direction too, is unflashy and in full service to the symphony of stories. No movement feels unnecessary, and the precision of the cast shows a wide variety of environments that the space itself would never allow.
The message of It’s Only Life is hardly original, but kindly reminds us to embrace the things we fear. These songs act as stepping stones, from risk to risk, and we can only learn as we go how best to get to the other side. Ultimately, it’s a redemptive and moving revue. I saw audience members crying, holding hands, laughing out loud. The ensemble, representing a sexually diverse Britain, behave familiarly with their audience as if to say: “These are our stories, but they’re yours too”. And that is where It’s Only Life really succeeds. Anyone can find a story here, or a moment, to relate to.
It’s Only Life is an unforgettably enjoyable experience that comes highly recommended. Great songs, great vocals, great emotions … what’s not to love?
