Kumar Muniandy on Second Class Queer, Theatro Technis
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Kumar Muniandy‘s Second Class Queer brings you into the world of a gay Indian Malaysian man, it’s a solo performance that brings raw vulnerability and the search for belonging to the fringe, a story that Kumar says needed to be told. But before he tells his story on stage, we asked him to tell us more about it here.
What can audiences expect from the show?
Prepare for an electrifying hour that’s both hilariously relatable and profoundly moving. Second Class Queer plunges you into Krishna’s world, a gay Indian Malaysian man navigating the chaotic, often comical, landscape of Berlin speed-dating, all while carrying the silent weight of unspoken grief for his late mother. This isn’t just a play; it’s a vibrant, unflinching solo performance that uses razor-sharp wit and raw vulnerability to dissect identity, race, queerness, and the universal search for belonging.
Is Camden Fringe going to be your first time performing Second Class Queer, or have you performed it before?
Second Class Queer is hitting London fresh from a critically acclaimed UK Premiere at Brighton Fringe 2025, Zagreb’s FAKI Festival’s The Act of Resistance and successful runs in Berlin and Hamburg. The reception has been incredible, audiences have connected deeply with Krishna’s journey, and the reviews have been phenomenal. The Latest in Brighton called it ‘something that takes your breath away… witty and deeply moving,’ while GScene hailed it as a ‘masterclass in solo performance.’
What was your inspiration behind the show?
My inspiration for Second Class Queer was forged in the crucible of a 17-year journey in London. It began with the dream of an actor, honed at the prestigious Guildhall School of Music & Drama, only to collide with the often subtle, yet deeply felt, xenophobia of an industry that struggled to see me beyond a narrow, racialised lens. Despite London being my home, I wasn’t ‘British enough,’ didn’t possess the ‘right’ accents, and I saw a glaring absence of faces and stories on UK stages and screens that reflected my truth as an Indian Malaysian man.
I grew profoundly weary of auditioning for stereotypes that erased my authentic self, of trying to contort my identity to fit a Eurocentric palate. Second Class Queer is my act of reclamation. It’s born from an urgent need to write the roles I never saw, to give voice to the experiences that were consistently silenced, and to present an unfiltered, un-western-washed narrative. It’s a story I had to tell, not just for myself, but for everyone who has ever felt like a ‘second-class’ citizen in a world that demands conformity. This play is also a profound dedication: to a specific individual in Malaysia whose life was tragically impacted by bullying and homophobia, and to the countless others worldwide who have faced violence and oppression simply for being who they are. Their resilience and their pain echo within this story.
How long have you been working on the play?
Since 2021.
Is this version how you originally envisioned it or has it changed drastically since you first put pen to paper?
This is the completed vision of Second Class Queer, a piece that has been carefully developed and tested. It first found its legs as a work-in-progress at the English Theatre Berlin in 2022. The incredible response there led to an invitation to return with the fully realised version in 2023, which is the powerful, polished piece I’m bringing to London. While every creative work evolves, the core truth and urgency of Krishna’s story (the main character in the play) have remained its unwavering heartbeat from the very first words on the page.
What was it that drew you to this show and role?
Second Class Queer wasn’t something I was drawn to as much as something that had to be drawn out of me. It was born from a deep, personal necessity. For years, as an actor in London and navigating life as an Indian Malaysian, I felt a profound disconnect between the roles available and the multifaceted reality of my own lived experience and the experiences of so many like me. I was tired of the limited, often stereotypical portrayals, the feeling of being perpetually “othered.” This show, and the role of Krishna, is my way of taking control of the narrative, of writing myself and my community into existence on stage in a way that is authentic, complex, and unflinching. Krishna is, in many ways, an amalgamation of my observations, my vulnerabilities, and the unspoken stories of queer, diasporic individuals searching for belonging. The pull was to tell a truth that I felt was desperately missing.
What is it about your character that you most enjoy?
What I most enjoy about Krishna is his resilience cloaked in vulnerability, and his unexpected humour. He’s navigating this incredibly exposing, often absurd ritual of speed-dating while carrying so much internal weight – his grief, his cultural baggage, his desires. I love his capacity to find moments of wit and connection even in his awkwardness and pain. He’s not a hero in the traditional sense; he’s deeply flawed, sometimes self-sabotaging, but he keeps trying. There’s a raw honesty to him, a yearning for connection that I think is incredibly human and relatable, despite the specificity of his circumstances. Playing him allows me to explore that delicate balance between an outward performance of coping and the turmoil within.
How challenging has this role been for you?
Immensely challenging, but in the most rewarding way. Firstly, as a solo performer, the technical and emotional stamina required is significant – holding an audience’s attention and embodying multiple brief encounters for an hour is demanding. But the deeper challenge has been the vulnerability. Krishna’s story draws heavily on very personal themes and experiences – grief, racialisation, the complexities of queer identity, the feeling of being “second-class.” To excavate those emotions night after night, to lay them bare for an audience, requires a huge amount of courage and emotional honesty. It’s also challenging because the play aims to provoke thought on uncomfortable subjects like colourism and xenophobia. Navigating that with nuance, ensuring the humour lands effectively without diluting the seriousness, is a constant, delicate balancing act. But it’s precisely these challenges that make the work feel so vital and meaningful to perform.
Being a fringe festival, we all know sets have to be bare minimum, how have you got around this with your set and props?
Yes, it’s very much a ‘suitcase play.’ I designed it with minimal, easily obtainable props and a simple set to ensure it’s both versatile and straightforward to stage anywhere.
What has been the biggest challenge in realising the writer’s vision for the show?
Honestly, the writer’s vision for the characters, the narrative arc, and the core emotional truths of Second Class Queer was remarkably clear from the very beginning. The story felt like it needed to be told, and it poured out with a certain urgency.
Are there any plans for what comes next after the show has finished its run for you or the show?
Absolutely! Second Class Queer is definitely on a journey, and the Camden Fringe run is an exciting part of that. After these London performances, the show is heading to:
- Edinburgh Fringe Festival: I’ll be at C Venues from 11th – 17th August 2025 at 12noon everyday. Tickets and more information can be found here.
- Hamburg, Germany: I’m thrilled to be returning to Germany for performances at the prestigious Ernst Deutsch Theater on 4th & 5th October 2025. Booking details for Hamburg will be announced soon.
Beyond these confirmed dates, I’m also hopeful about taking the show to Belfast, as I’ve applied to the Outburst Queer Arts Festival, so fingers are firmly crossed for that!
Who would play you in the Hollywood adaptation of your future autobiography?
A Hollywood adaptation, you say? That’s… optimistic! Frankly, the idea feels about as tangible as finding a unicorn riding the Piccadilly line during rush hour. I mean, I’ve been squinting at Hollywood for a while now, and I’m still waiting to spot an actor who truly feels like they could embody my specific brand of Tamil Malaysian, third-culture, queer, ‘what-on-earth-is-happening’ existence. But hey, Hollywood, consider this a formal invitation: please, prove me wrong. I triple-dog-dare you!
If your show had a soundtrack, what songs would definitely be on it?
There are two soundtracks that plays in the play so it would be one of those tracks!
If budget or reality was not an issue what is the one thing you would love to have in your show?
Oh, that’s a wonderful question to dream on! If budget and all practicalities simply vanished, I would absolutely love to have a breathtaking natural oasis on stage for Second Class Queer. Imagine a backdrop of cascading waterfalls, with real, lush plants and trees creating a vibrant, living environment. And actual water flowing, perhaps into a clear pool where, at poignant moments, Krishna could immerse himself – to swim, to dip, to feel that profound connection with nature.
For me, this isn’t just about spectacle. It would symbolise a deep yearning for healing, for purity, and for a return to something elemental and true, especially for a character like Krishna who is navigating such complex, often artificial, urban spaces and internal struggles. To be able to physically embrace nature on stage, to pray and find solace within it, would be an incredibly powerful visual and emotional metaphor for the kind of deep, restorative healing that the play, and Krishna himself, is reaching for. It would be a space of sanctuary and profound beauty.
What is the most valuable piece of advice you have received during your career and how has it influenced your work on this show?
Just write. Don’t care about what other people think!
What words of advice would you give anyone thinking about doing Camden Fringe next year?
Oh, absolutely go for it! My biggest piece of advice would be to truly embrace the fringe spirit with fearless authenticity. If you have a story burning inside you, something unique you need to share, Camden Fringe is an incredibly welcoming and vibrant platform to do just that.
Don’t wait for perfection or for someone else to give you permission. Create the work you want to see. Be resourceful, be bold in your vision, and don’t be afraid if it feels a bit raw or unconventional – that’s often where the most exciting theatre happens!
Connect with other artists, see as much as you can, and remember that the journey of putting your work out there, especially in such a supportive festival environment, is an invaluable experience in itself, regardless of the outcome. It’s a fantastic place to test ideas, find your audience, and grow as an artist. So, take the leap – your voice and your story matter!
Is there a question missing that you feel we should be asking you?
Yes. I think the whole UK theatre industry needs to ask itself, very honestly:
“We say we want diversity and inclusion. But for artists like me, from the Global South, diasporas, queer, low working-class, who haven’t had an easy path, what’s actually different in our daily lives? Are our stories really getting to the big stages more often? Are more of us getting real influence and earning a proper living?
Or is it still the same old fight? Are we seeing the same few actors recycled again and again for ‘new work,’ with maybe one ‘token’ artist thrown in? Is there still that quiet prejudice against those of us not born and bred British, especially if we’re not already in powerful positions? Are we just seeing the same stories and adaptations repeated, while truly new writing from people like us has to fight tooth and nail for a tiny bit of space?”
That’s what I think we need to confront if things are ever going to genuinely change for the better for all of us.
Thanks for sharing the story behind your play, Kumar, we can’t wait to check it out this summer. Second Class Queer will be at Theatro Technis from Wednesday 30 July to Friday 1 August.
