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Review: Deadnamed, Museum of Comedy

Camden Fringe 2023

Camden Fringe 2023 The Museum of Comedy is tucked away in the The Undercroft of St Georges Church, in the heart of Bloomsbury. It’s a real gem of a venue, packed to the arches with comedy artefacts and books, and offers a very reasonable gin and tonic. Well worth a visit. My first trip to this fantastic space was to see Dian Cathal’s Deadnamed The show begins with a coffin on stage, from which Dian soon emerges. It’s not just a gothic prop, you see, we’re here for the funeral of who Dian used to be. Dian explains to…

Summary

Rating

Excellent

An intensely raw performance by Dian Cathal, sharing so much of his experience as a trans man with humour, honesty, and love.

The Museum of Comedy is tucked away in the The Undercroft of St Georges Church, in the heart of Bloomsbury. It’s a real gem of a venue, packed to the arches with comedy artefacts and books, and offers a very reasonable gin and tonic. Well worth a visit. My first trip to this fantastic space was to see Dian Cathal’s Deadnamed

The show begins with a coffin on stage, from which Dian soon emerges. It’s not just a gothic prop, you see, we’re here for the funeral of who Dian used to be. Dian explains to us that a deadname, as in the show’s title, is how a trans person refers to their former name, which is usually their birth name. And for the purpose of this performance, Dian’s deadname is Lily.

The show is quite lighthearted at first, but the depiction of his mother’s reaction to him coming out is heart wrenchingly, shockingly, sad. The show is intensely moving yet still manages to fill the room with laughter. It’s a delicate balance that Dian masters, and his comparison of being trans to being left-handed is an eloquent way of describing how it feels.

Dian uses Irish folklore throughout the performance to great effect, linking these ancient tales to his own experiences. The characteristics of a changeling, and why people thought their child was one, seem out of context at first. But once the penny drops, the shock of what Dian is implying is like a punch to the gut. The use of lighting is a little clunky at times, but when the timings work it’s incredibly effective, particularly during asides.

Dian’s performance shifts towards the end. Dian the character becomes the real Dian standing in front of us, made clear as he literally removes his top hat and tails. He shares how he’s been out as a trans man for 10 years and that his deadname is not Lily. This is usually kept private, he explains, and it’s something you shouldn’t ask a trans person. It’s a narrative approach that makes you question how much of the performance so far was in fact true, but you’re soon left in no doubt.

What follows picks up on an earlier prop that appears forgotten. It’s a letter, a real letter from someone Dian knows. He doesn’t know who it’s from or what it says, and as he reads it out it’s one of the most intensely emotional and raw moments I’ve ever witnessed in theatre.

I’ve been known to shed a tear or two at many a show, but usually it’s at a climactic moment in a musical or at the end of a long, intense play. What Dian packs into just 40 minutes is remarkable. And the emotional reaction he evokes within such a short amount of time is a testament to the performance and the raw honesty on display.

In a climate of hateful commentary online and unnecessary discourse about the trans community, this show feels necessary and important. Dian addresses the common questions many people have, without patronising the audience, whilst also completely and utterly owning their experience. It’s like a breath of fresh air, and whilst desperately sad at times, the performance is ultimately filled with hope and joy.


Written by: Dian Cathal

Deadnamed played for one night only. DIan Cathal also has a second show, Generation WHY playing at Camden Fringe, further information available here.

About Lily Middleton

Lily currently works at an art gallery, you might know it, it's in Trafalgar Square. When not gazing at masterpieces, she can be found in a theatre or obsessively crafting. Her love of theatre began with musicals as a child, Starlight Express at the Apollo Victoria being her earliest memory of being completely entranced. She studied music at university and during this time worked on a few shows in the pit with her violin, notably Love Story (which made her cry more and more with each performance) and Calamity Jane (where the gunshot effects never failed to make her jump). But it was when working at Battersea Arts Centre at the start of her career that her eyes were opened to the breadth of theatre and the impact it can have. This solidified a life-long love of theatre, whether in the back of a pub, a disused warehouse or in the heart of the West End.