Review: Earworm, King’s Head Theatre

Earworm, written and directed by Gur Arie Piepskovitz, is a lean, emotionally honest anti-romcom that explores the pleasures and pitfalls of modern gay relationships. Presented as a two-night run at the King’s Head Theatre in Islington, this intimate production features just four actors, minimal staging, and no theatrical bells and whistles. This is the kind of small-scale show that depends entirely on the strength of its writing and the commitment of its cast. Fortunately, it has both.

This is not Earworm’s first outing (it was previously performed in 2024) and appears to have been reworked and refined a little for this latest iteration. What remains clear is the strength of its structure and its willingness to dive deep into the messy, contradictory heart of queer intimacy.

At the centre of the drama is Guy, a wannabe cabaret performer, whose faltering attempts to polish his act are presented in a pair of framing scenes at the start and end of the play. Played with nervous charm and emotional nuance by Avihud Tidhar, Guy is at once vulnerable and prickly, caught in a swirl of creative self-doubt and caustic external judgment: he is mercilessly critiqued by a pair of bitter, waspish men.

However, the real substance of the piece lies in what follows. The main body of Earworm takes place over the course of a single evening: a dinner party to mark the completion of Guy’s boyfriend’s academic thesis. Its title, The Fear and the Gain, turns out to be a thematic north star, signalling a meditation on the contradictions and complications of queer love. The arrival of the boyfriend’s thesis supervisor and his nineteen-year-old partner sparks an increasingly intense dialogue that is equal parts intellectual debate, emotional reckoning, and quiet psychological warfare.

The real achievement of Piepskovitz’s script lies in its brutal honesty. It doesn’t hide behind easy stereotypes or feel the need to soften the blows. Instead, it dives headlong into the thornier aspects of gay intimacy: age gaps, status anxiety, open relationships, and the unspoken resentments that bubble up when people try to fit unruly feelings into neat narratives. The dynamic between the two pairs is constantly shifting, powered by unacknowledged desire, generational tension, and the universal longing for connection.

Though it is light on production, with no elaborate set and only the simplest lighting and sound cues, the play never feels undernourished. That’s due in large part to the performances, which are uniformly excellent. Brodie Bass, playing John, the partner whose PhD is being celebrated, is outstanding and gives a layered performance full of precision and emotional control. Waylon Jacobs brings knowing energy and a quiet authority to Tyler. As Zayn, the nineteen-year-old boyfriend whose youth conceals a sharper emotional instinct than anyone expects, Reece Lewis is both watchful and wise.

If Earworm has a theatrical ancestry, it might be seen as a kind of Abigail’s Party for a queer audience, filtered through the emotional sincerity of Torch Song Trilogy. It is talky, intimate, and deliberately unsentimental. Both funny and moving, it left me hoping this short run is just the start of a longer journey.

Written and directed by Gur Arie Piepskovitz

Earworm has finished its current run at the King’s Head Theatre