Palatable Gay Robot
by Stephen Brower
director Zachary Prince
with Stephen Brower, Julia Murney
Udderbelly Boulevard, London • 7.Apr.26 ★★★★
Funny and sharp, with a big emotional kick, this one-man show explores themes of identity and community through an absurd premise, expertly written and performed by Stephen Brower. This is a fast-paced 75 minutes, overflowing with verbal gags, physical schtick, musical skill and pointed observations about how difficult it is to fit into society's strict boxes. And while it keeps us laughing, the show also leaves us with a lot to think about.
It's set up as a demonstration of HumaVibe's latest device, introduced by a voiceover moderator (Murney) as our new gay best friend Billie Bowtie (Brower), a robot with "a little extra sugar in the tank". The moderator continually reminds Billie that he needs to be "palatable" to avoid offending anyone, but Billie is unable to stop making rude jokes and references. The more background reference material he downloads, the ruder and more deeply insightful his humour gets. But even when the moderator applies additional constraints, Billie continues to break through them.
Billie's primary directive is to provide endless entertainment for straight people, and his quick wit is loaded with riotous innuendo, puns and references. He also performs elaborate song and dance routines and does amusingly awkward crowd work before he is urged to share his story. At this point, Brower weaves his own life into the narrative, using playful humour and an underlying authenticity as he recounts his Oklahoma childhood, family pressures, dance camp joy and a bittersweet experience with first love. The moderator continually resets him, but Billie simply can't stay in the lines.
Brower's performance is bright and smiley, augmenting everything with elaborate physicality. So Billie's robotic glitches carry an underlying meaning. Hugely likeable, he mixes sassiness with darker edges, impressively deploying surreal comedy alongside moving emotions. His blinding verbal riffs are often astonishing, from a hilarious brunch-buddy rant to a climactic sequence synchronised with clips from a broad range of bracingly current cultural iconography.
At its core this show is an attempt to define what it means to be gay. The word may mean happy, but it also carries fear, self-hatred, love and longing. So the sharply cutting gags touch on religion and politics sit with complex comments about themes from self-discovery to false security. Queer stereotypes are lampooned along the way, always subverted with smart punchlines. And it gets more personal as the show continues: Billie's most insistent urges are to become an actor, to be loved and not to die alone. What's most impressive is how Brower so seamlessly blends intelligence with stupidity, profanity with open-hearted emotion, and most importantly performative robotics with raw humanity.
photos by Danny Bristoll, Spencer Clark • 7.Apr.26
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