Review of ‘My Son’s A Queer’: “A million lives story”

Tears and laughs shake the stage in this proud celebration of truthfulness and individuality. Guillermo Nazara reviews this new production which has lately become one of the hottest shows in the West End, to let us know if all the gossip is as fair as its bitchy tongue.

My dearest friend,

I’d like to say I hope this letter finds you well, but sadly I know that’s not the case.

I’m aware these last days at school have no been the easiest ones for you. In fact, perhaps they’ve never been… I would like to tell you not to give up, but I understand that right now that’s all you can think of. You feel like you’re alone in this world, because there’s nobody you believe you can trust or open up to. Not surprisingly, they all know what’s wrong with you (if that could be a way to call it…) – and precisely because they know, they’ve decided to shut you off.

You have the need to tell your family, hoping that they could support you. But you’re concerned about saying anything to them ’cause you fear that their response might be the same. You’ve heard things around – and they are not pretty… You keep telling yourself that you’ve done nothing bad. But days pass, and so do months and years, and nothing you do can ever change their mindset. You’ve already been put into the outsider box, and as long as you keep being like that, you will always remain there. There’s a mistake that you did make, however, perhaps the worst of them all: you revealed yourself to a world that despises what they don’t understand.

There’s a show I would like you to come see when you’re around London. You may not believe it but every second I was watching that performance, I couldn’t help but thinking of you. I remember all those grand shows you used to put up in the living room, how much you liked to play your own film and TV productions at your grandpas’ garden (you always got the highest ratings, of course!) and when you turned your room into a dark ride with your own paper-cut animatronics and tape recorder speakers. You were such a passionate child driven by his own talent and imagination. This was the story of Rob Madge, but it truly seemed as your own.

The truth is that it was difficult for anyone in the audience not to connect with them. It’s as if everybody got, or perhaps identified with, every number they were seeing onstage. I was for sure not the only one in tears (I don’t know if they were of joy or grief, but what I’m positive about is that they were genuine – I can’t remember when was the last time a montage managed to move me in such a way, to be honest). Don’t get me wrong – this is a very uplifting piece. But for some reason, there were so many strange emotions flourishing inside me while I was there. It was like butterflies in my stomach mixed with “if only” thoughts on the past. He poured their soul out at the theatre while making us all laugh and cheer – but they also earned the keys to the souls of their viewers.

I know how teased you’ve been for liking musical theatre or for when they caught you at home trying one your mother’s dresses to play a Disney princess. You were only 6 year old and that’s the moment you heard the F word for the first time. From then on, it would become a label that would follow you more than your own name. So many times that would be their only way to refer to you. And you kept pretending you didn’t care (that was incredible strong of you), but as Rob wisely says in their show: some words can hurt. I can only be grateful that they haven’t destroyed you, though they have deeply scarred you.

I think this experience has been quite healing for those who saw Rob as a mirror image of themselves. There was such a sense of community and support – it was infectious. Of course, their comedic abilities and electrifying personality made their contribution, but there was something else – it’s like it’s not a show to watch, but to feel and be a part of (at least, that’s how I saw it, and I’m sure that’s how you will too). Be the first to start the dumroll!

And by the way, you will love the musical numbers, such enjoyable score and funny lyrics (plus, you’ll be amazed by the things this artist has done before!). It’s just such a perfect assembly of entertainment and profundity. A lesson of life for those who’ve suffered and those who could have prevented that suffering. And obviously, for everyone who still have the chance to do the right thing. I was so pleased to see there were a few children in the audience – and with how welcoming they were to all that was presented to them. It’s funny, isn’t it? How many times we hear conservatives raising their concerns about how dangerous the LGBT community is to kids – and all of I’ve witnessed is a space of love and care, where nobody is forced to fit in, only to accept everybody’s differences.

You’ve probably heard lots of things about this show (good things, I hope!), as everybody seems to be talking about it. No wonder why. It’s such a boost of energy and appreciation. If only all those who harmed you would have learned from it before they did. Who knows? Maybe they wouldn’t have done it – at least, not the ones who were supposed to protect you from the ugliness of the world… But once again, let me reassure you, you will be fine – and this piece will prove that to you. You’ll be reassured of how much joy is awaiting for you (that’s what this musical is truly all about). You will be proven that all you have to do is be patient and never hide who you truly are. You’ll be taught that you’re not alone. And most importantly, of how much you matter.

I love you, my dear younger self.

All pictures credit to Mark Senior.

My Son’s A Queer (But What Can You Do?) plays at London’s Ambassadors Theatre from Monday to Saturday until 1 April 2023. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara