Review of ‘After The Act’: “Just jacking audiences up through will and grace”

The Royal Court hosts the London return of this verbatim musical collecting testimonies of real-life LGBT people affected by  Section 28. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this lively celebration of freedom and identity ends up making audiences gay.

This is no fairy tale. Well, it is, but you know what I mean. If you’re familiar with Section 28 (and if you are, you’ve been in this world for quite a while now), you can probably relate to the pain, anger, and frustration of anyone affected by it. In a time when the gay community was already facing arguably its most terrible crisis, here came a law that criminalized the slightest reference from what Mrs. Naggy Maggie proudly saw as a deviation from the right path.

As disgusted as you may be (hopefully, due to the appalling legislation and not something else), it’s important to remember the wrongs that not so long ago constituted the norm – because it’s not that difficult, especially today, for them to reappear. And so, the Royal Court hosted last week the London return of ‘After The Act’, a show based on the real-life experiences of those who went through the infamous decree – and whose lack of craftsmanship and elaborateness are, in fact, its robustest feature.

Written by Billy Barret and Ellice Stevens, with tunes by Frew, the piece musicalizes the actual testimonies of teachers, students, and any member of the LGBT+ community who experienced Thatcher’s wholesome methods of discrimination. It calls itself a musical, but that’s rarely the case. While several numbers do move the plot along, the show’s overall feel leans closer to a play with songs – not because they are not relevant to the narrative, but because of the outline.

You could get rid of all the music and, other than the tingling sensation they add up to the recount, it would still work. The way characters break into song is not sufficiently justified. It just happens, and not in the most organic manner. The issue stems from its absolute disregard to structure and lyricism. From a storytelling point of view, its assortment of true anecdotes works to a considerable extent. But in terms of flaw, there is a lot to reconsider.

Its verbatim use of words prevents the melodies from landing. They all sound too uncanny to the ear — pretty, despite their simplicity, but in the end, messy and unpolished, nearer to a first draft than a finished version.

The staging doesn’t doesn’t excel in any aspect either. Effectively evoking the school ambiance, though not through the most intricate approach, its lack of versatility and dynamism leads to an unfulfilling result that comes off as slightly cheap and clunky — unable to come up with any imaginative solutions and, in the end, flaunting more weaknesses than strengths.

The cast does their best to keep the energy up — and admittedly, to a successful outcome. There’s nothing outstanding about their vocals. You may, and will, indeed hear more than an error or two in both pitch and technique. And yet, the exceptional commitment and rapport they project is everything we need for their performances to win us over — and most importantly, resonate with us on a level very few other shows, at least of this kind, can do.

This is possibly one of the messiest pieces of theatre you’ll come across throughout this season’s mainstream offer. Surprisingly, it’s also one of the most stirring one. Astonishingly, the striking pathos it exudes makes up for almost every flaw it so unapologetically brandishes. Maybe because it hits so close to home, maybe because it holds something truly special, After The Act passes with distinction by making its own as for what good features in a show are. It’s untidy, unhoned, unrefined, and imperfect in every sense. But the real flop would be not giving it an opportunity.

All pictures credit to Alex Brenner.

After The Act plays at London’s Royal Court Theatre until 14 June. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara