Everything Theatre Reviews, interviews and news for theatre lovers, London and beyond
Entertaining one-man show about gay sex and local politics.Summary
Rating
Good
How do you assess a comedy-drama? Laughs per minute? Quantity of intrigue? It’s always a rich experience for the audience when a production provokes a range of reactions, but not always simple to decide exactly what a piece is intended to convey overall.
Writer/performer Rob Ward’s The MP, Aunty Mandy and Me concerns northern lad Dom, who’s gay, has a fascination (fetish?) for steam trains and an ambition to be an online influencer. Dom is a bit dim, but certainly likable and possessed of a certain naïve small-town charm. He has an absent father, a Mick Hucknall-worshipping Mum who spends a lot of time off her face on MDMA (code-named “Aunty Mandy”) and a Tory-supporting mate Alan with whom he takes part in the local pub quiz.
When Dom learns that a local rail station is under threat of closure, he’s outraged because of the station’s historic connections to a world speed record for steam locomotives. Told that he can tackle his MP about it at their weekly surgery – a concept he’d been unfamiliar with – Dom trots along and attempts to put his case. Southern MP Peter listens sympathetically but seems more interested in Dom himself than in his campaign, offering him an internship to work for him boosting his social media profile.
Slightly blind-sided by this turn of events, Dom nevertheless goes along with it. Peter is also gay, and Dom is fascinated by the notion of an out politician, swiftly falling into a wide-eyed friendship of sorts with the older man. It’s not long before Dom is swept into a world of skimpy jockstraps, fetish masks, clubbing, drugs and unasked-for but tolerated sexual acts.
Ward is a very accomplished performer who brings Dom appealingly to life and flits between the other characters with great skill, imbuing each with distinct mannerisms and behaviours. His script is funny in places, but not in a particularly original way – it’s safely sleazy about the gay scene, with Ward’s enthusiasm as Dim Dom powering some sympathetic laughs.
In terms of the dramatic intent of the play, it’s worth noting that the production is supported by We Are Survivors, a voluntary sector organisation that aims to create and facilitate safe spaces for male survivors of sexual abuse, rape and sexual exploitation. So, is Dom a victim in his uneven relationship with Peter? I don’t think there’s any doubt that Peter has abused his authority by manoeuvring his way into Dom’s pants. But it’s difficult to judge how guilty the politician is when Dom goes along with everything suggested to him with so little reluctance. Perhaps this is the devil in the detail of coercion, but as a dramatic motor it needs to be scrutinised and illuminated with more focus. In the end it is not any discomfort with Peter’s behaviour that terminates the “relationship”, but simple jealousy when hot new arrival Joey catches the eye of both Dom and Peter.
Ward has created a confident and engaging show, supported by slick lighting and sound design. I just wish it had some more sophisticated humour woven into the story, and a clearer dramatic shape within which to tell it.
Written by: Rob Ward
Directed by: Clive Judd
Produced by: Max Emmerson, Emmerson & Ward, We Are Survivors, Curve
The MP, Aunty Mandy & Me plays at King’s Head Theatre until 4 June. Further information and bookings can be found here.
