Gay Generations • A Double Bill

The White Bear Theatre • 24 August - 28 August

With the ever increasing number of colours that have been added to the rainbow flag over the last four years in order that it better represent the ethnic and gender diversity within our community, there’s an argument to be had that one last colour still remains noticeable by it’s absence, and whose inclusion could be used to symbolise a large, yet marginalised group within the queer community. That colour is grey and the group I suggest it represent is the over fifties, a group that far to frequently finds itself pushed to the margins of our often youth-orientated culture, where men the ‘other’ side of fifty can quickly find themselves becoming socially invisible and all but ignored. It’s a section of our society that also seem woefully unrepresented in the art that we make and the culture we create. Not since 2019’s excellent production of Martin Shermans Gently Down The Stream at the Park Theatre, can I recall a production that really exams the experiences and expectations of our different generations. It was therefore with some excitement, (and relief), to find this being the subject currently put front and centre at the White Bear Theatre in two plays being performed as a double bill under the title Gay Generations, (24th Aug - 28th Aug)

In the first play, A Certain Term, written by Micheal McManus and directed by Bryan Hodgson, we find Graham (Dickon Farmer) preparing his flat for a dinner party, an annual event he hosts for a group of friends to ‘celebrate their survival - and to commemorate those who have been lost’. First to arrive, 43 mins early, is his young work colleague Joe (Daniel Cornish) who he has also invited to the party. Despite Graham being constantly reminded that the pair have nothing in common, (Thelma And Louise being one of the few common cultural references they share) the two have an endearing chemistry, (helped by two impressive central performances from both Farmer and Cornish) and Joe is eager to find out more about his older host, prompted in doing so by the memorabilia that surrounds him in the actor / writers flat. The differences between their lived experiences soon become glaringly apparent, even Joe’s rainbow coloured socks are enough to trigger one of Graham’s reminiscences. “By playing it straight, I managed to retain all of my privileges”, he sighs, realising Joe has never really had to contemplate the prospect of a life lived in the closet. He has also never had to live through the devastating arrival of HIV and AIDS, and whilst this is understandably familiar territory that many gay plays have found themselves exploring, to witness it here as the passing-on of history from one generation to another is a refreshing context in which to reexamine the ramifications of that period which, for generation Z has more likely already been consigned to the dim and distant past.

There is plenty of light to counterbalance the darkness of these reminiscences, and Graham and Joes relationship also produces plenty of laughs in the more light hearted banter the pair have through the soft jibes they make with relation to their age difference. This energy takes a bit of a dip when Graham temporarily leaves the flat, just missing the arrival of a mysterious guest, Robert. (Edward O’Connor making his professional debut) This middle section is somewhat hindered by the fact that the only real mystery surrounding Roberts appearance is why Joe doesn’t work out who he is, and the pair’s interactions lack the same spark as the plays earlier exchanges, but the energy soon lifts upon Grahams return and, having narrowly missed Robert for the second time, is rocked by the news of this unexpected visitor’s appearance. Whilst this end might not be the complete surprise it could have been, the ramifications of his appearance are still a compelling and emotionally charged watch.

After a brief intermission we return to our seats for I F****n Love You, directed by Oliver McFadden and written by Charlie Ross Mackenzie, who is also seen here playing Adrian. Mackenzie takes a more evenly toned comic approach to his well observed exchanges between intergenerational couple Adrian and Simon, (Brandon Gale) who find a sleepless night brings with it conversations that ruminate around the topics of love, celebrity, music, family, death, fidelity, class and regret, all delivered with some hilarious, and often insightful one-liners. Once again there is a strong chemistry between the two leads that provides a solid core on which the play builds. That we find Adrian in an old t-shirt and Star Wars pyjama bottoms, whilst his younger partner sleeps in boxers and a top adorned with the legend, ’Tank Top Wearing Bum Boy And Proud’, we have an immediate visual indication of the age and cultural gap between the two. There is also a gap between the stages they are both in with their careers. Adrian, a once well known TV presenter, now finds himself consigned to local radio (prepping questions for an interview with two remaining members of Bucks Fizz), whilst Simon is very much at the top of the celebrity ladder, having just been offered a place on the forthcoming series of ‘Strictly Come Dancing’. “The dancers are more famous than the celebs now”, Adrian jibes, but despite these light hearted digs, the strength of their relationship is clear and, as with the first play, the merits and flaws of both age groups are dealt with in a nicely balanced and affectionate way. 

I don’t know under what circumstances these two plays found themselves being performed together, but they are certainly good companion pieces for an evening that offers a fresh insight into intergenerational friendships and relationships, giving an equally strong voice to the characters from both age groups. Whilst these relationships can sometimes appear bittersweet, both plays are highly enjoyable and should be applauded for successfully opening up a queer conversation that includes an older generation, whose very existence has helped pave the way for the freedoms and privileges many seem now to assume have always been there. With a last shout-out going to the set and lighting designers whose simple but effective use of the space helped transport us into the lives of such memorable characters, Gay Generations is a welcome addition to the queer theatre canon that I hope will encourage more playwrights to include some of the less obvious marginalised voices in their plays.

Now… about that flag…

★★★★