Stage: I wanna live forever

Fame Wh*re
writer-director Tom Ratcliffe
performer-lyricist Gigi Zahir
producer Sarah Allen
set Alys Whitehead
lighting Hugo Dodsworth
King's Head Theatre, Islington • 5-29.Oct.22

Cleverly riffing on the idea that today's youth believe that they deserve to be famous, this one-person show bristles with huge ideas relating to social media and reality television. And while it centres around a hilarious drag act, with a constant barrage of razor-sharp punchlines, it's ultimately a remarkably dark story that spirals into a series of painful emotions. Most importantly, writer Tom Ratcliffe never tries to elicit the audience's sympathy.

That job is left to performer Gigi Zahir, aka Crayola the Queen, who plays Becky Biro with an entitled sense of desperation. Becky knows that she will be a huge star, and that there's no way she won't land a spot on the hot reality competition show Drag Factor. In fact, her life can't be complete without this expected triumph. So it's galling to her that her friend and arch-rival Cindy has achieved that stardom without her. Becky has worked herself to the bone to be a success, and she's not going to be held back by her still-small number of social media followers. She has a plan to fix this, as long as it doesn't backfire.

Zahir bounds around the stage delivering earnest pleas to her followers, while offering cynical asides to the audience that reveal her deep insecurities. Although since it's in performed the round, there are a few long stretches where we're looking at the back of her huge blue wig. It's a full-bodied performance, complete with costume changes, and Zahir's boldest work is in scenes in which Becky's insincerity and self-loathing are on full display.

Becky is delusional about her importance in the world, and her friends aren't very loyal, including both Cindy and Becky's trans drag-king boyfriend Chris. These and other characters (all played by Zahir) appear on video projections that cleverly recreate FaceTime calls and a Zoom hearing of a drag council that determines Becky's fate.

In a brisk hour, Ratcliffe's script adeptly punctures the intense pressure wannabe influencers inflict on themselves about their social media status, veering from the highs of going viral to the lows of vicious trolling. To many young people, followers are the ultimate currency, and expectations are often unrealistic. There are also pointed references to cancel culture, online sex work, transphobia and violent assaults. 

Thankfully, the tone is lightened by a series of hilariously lacerating jokes and riotous pastiche songs like the bouncy Cheese Is Lovely, which Becky notes is, like her, both delicious and nutritious. So while we're hugely entertained, it's the complexity and depth of the material that leaves us with something to think about. 

photos by Charles Flint • 11.Oct.22

Stage: Trolling for justice

Evelyn
by Tom Ratcliffe
dir Madelaine Moore
with Nicola Harrison, Rula Lenska, Yvette Boakye, Offue Okegbe
music/sound Michael Crean
set TK Hay
costumes Trynity Silk
lighting Rachel Sampley
Southwark Playhouse, London • 23.Jun-16.Jul.22

Based on a true story, this stage drama traces a compelling series of events in a way that builds intrigue while asking much larger questions about identity and the destructive impact of gossip, especially of the trolling variety. With a loose production style, the cast takes a nicely offhanded approach to the characters. But it's frustrating that the show is staged so awkwardly, with hesitant dialog, bizarre theatrical flourishes and a rather drably uninteresting set.

The story takes place in a seaside retirement community, where Sandra (Harrison) arrives to rent a room from Jeanne (Lenska). Since this isn't strictly allowed, Sandra needs to pose as Jeanne's goddaughter. But Jeanne's nurse Laura (Boakye) is instantly suspicious of Sandra, especially when Sandra begins seeing Laura's brother Kevin (Okegbe). Eventually, Laura becomes convinced that Sandra is actually Evelyn Mills, a notorious woman from the news who covered for her violent husband after he killed their infant daughter.

Taking a motif from the setting, the show is framed with jarring appearances from Punch, Judy and Crocodile (played in masks by Okegbe, Harrison and Boakye), who bray loudly at rumours that are swirling online about Evelyn's past actions and present whereabouts, turning her into a sort of folk villain. Later they are also joined by Crean, a one-man band who performs the music and soundscape on-stage wearing a gimp mask. All of this gives the show a bizarrely sinister tone that turns increasingly dark. There are only very brief moments of lightness here and there, mainly due to Jeanne's mischievous approach to life.

Harrison is strong in the central role as a woman simply trying to have a quiet life, but unable to escape the suspicions that are beginning to circle her, augmented by the way she plays Sandra as a rather manipulative opportunist. This makes each small deception feel like it may hint at much larger lies, but the truth about her remains elusive. Boakye gets the biggest dramatic moments as the increasingly frazzled and somewhat prickly Laura, while the likeable Okegbe gives Kevin a hapless physicality that makes him a realistically oblivious nice guy. Meanwhile in the most fully fleshed-out performance, Lenska delivers all the best lines with impeccable timing to add both humour and deeper emotion.

This play is so complex that it needs much tighter direction and a more focussed visual sense of the sets and costumes. As staged here, it almost feels like we're watching an early rehearsal that's only partially realised. But the material is strong enough to hold the interest, so what it has to say about the mob mentality is provocative and even devastating.

For details, visit SOUTHWARK PLAYHOUSE >

photos by Greg Goodale • 27.Jul.22

Stage: Beyond the casting couch

Velvet
by Tom Ratcliffe
dir Andrew Twyman
at Above the Stag, Vauxhall • 2-27.Oct.19

Transferring from the Edinburgh Fringe, this one-man show is expertly written and performed by Tom Ratcliffe to explore ideas about the casting couch in the #metoo era. It's pointed and right up to date, taking an angle rarely explored as it follows a young gay actor's attempt to navigate a difficult obstacle course to find work.

Ratcliffe appears on a bare stage with just a velvet sofa, playing all the roles himself. The way he shifts between characters using his voice, attitude and simple physical cues is remarkable. It's clear that he knows this material back to front, which sometimes leaves it feeling a little over-rehearsed. But it needs to be this precise to work as effectively as it does, balancing a fine line between realism and heightened performance art.

The narrative is fragmented, following a few strands in Tom's life, including a strained relationship as he attends casting sessions, tries to land an agent and chats on apps to men. One of these virtual contacts becomes a major character, a Los Angeles film exec with a stable of boys who do what he says in exchange for stardom. From England, Tom is reluctant to indulge in this explicit video-chat roleplay. But the thought of landing an audition for Star Wars is difficult to ignore.

The material taps into a range of casting couch issues from multiple angles, including a best friend who has inexplicably made the big time, leaving Tom behind. And the stories Tom recounts and acts out are often very funny, darkly pointed and also sometimes very moving. It's a remarkable performance from Ratcliffe, exploring the randomness of fame, the predatory nature of the gatekeepers and the fact that sometimes you have to write your own show to make it.