Passion
The Lion and Unicorn Theatre • 7th - 11th February
If it’s true that opposites attract, then Joshua (Tom Dalrymple) and Jude (Nadav Burstein) are the perfect couple. One is a young, chilled, fun loving guy, comfortable in his skin and well adjusted to his sexuality, the other is a tightly wound knot of self-loathing, fear and denial, a state brought about by his religious beliefs and a severely heteronormative upbringing that has led to him being sent for conversion therapy by his father. Despite this, we see Jude and Joshua desperately trying to navigate the boundaries of their friendship as it shifts into something more physically intimate.
The last time I saw conversion therapy raise its ugly head in a theatrical production was in last summer’s The Convert by Ben Kavanagh. His was a dystopian vision of the future set in a somewhat clinical, science fiction styled ‘correction’ facility. ‘Passion’ takes the narrative outside of the facility and shows us the harrowing effects the practice has in a much more human story of our times, reminding us that the subject matter is as relevant now as it has ever been. As if any more proof was needed, a look at Stonewall’s website informs us that “more than 1.5 million LGBTQ+ people in England and Wales remain at risk of these harmful attempts to ‘cure’ us”. It was also less than a month ago that the UK Government laid out plans to correct it’s 2021 legislation to ban conversion therapy, finally moving to include trans people in the bill, who had previously been omitted.
Against this backdrop, Passion, written by the plays two young lead actors, also brings Joshua and Jude’s religious upbringing to the fore, and rightly so given that many faiths are involved in conversion therapy groups, but whilst Joshua has managed to confide in the Pastor of his church, who it turns out is also gay, about the feelings he now finds himself experiencing, Jude’s more orthodox faith has become yet another stick with which to beat himself with. This torment is made all the more distressing by the play being skilfully shot-through with glimpses of what this couples relationship could be, their banter being light, loving and flirtatious as they struggle to build the foundations upon which their emerging love can grow, but it’s never long before the spell is broken and Jude once again retreats into angry denial of his innermost feelings. “I don’t want to be different!”, he cries, tortured as much by his religion as by the need to be the alpha-male he thinks his family and the surrounding society expects him to be.
Having created their own theatre company Floating Shed, Burstein and Dalrymple have given themselves a remit to produce “original multi-disciplinary work involving physical theatre”, and indeed the moments where they use dance and movement to express their character’s innermost emotions are both impressive and powerful set pieces. The pairs writing also impresses in the way humour is used to trick the audience into short moments of relief before flipping the narrative by way of contrasting the stark reality of the couples often harrowing plight. One such moment is a hillarious riff built around Judes miss-understanding of who the dead ‘Queen’ is that Joshua at one point refers to, which not only serves to emphasise the plays very current setting, but also manages to clearly define the different stages Joshua and Jude are at in their journey of self acceptance.
With only one scene falling to nail it’s full potential, that being Joshua’s humiliating demasculisation at a manic Jude’s hands which fell just short of what should have been a truly disturbing transformation, this remains a moving piece of theatre, made all the more impressive given its minimal set design and the occasional idiosyncratic lighting cues. It’s a strong first outing for Floating Shed theatre, and with its solid dynamic structure, Passion is a play that will keep you thinking long after you leave this London pub theatre, as much for its important subject matter as for Burstein and Dalrymple’s powerful performances.
★★★★
review: Simon J. Webb