Second Class Queer forces us to sit down and listen, but eventually starts to feel long. Summary
Rating
Good!
Second Class Queer is a hat trick by Kumar Muniandy, who has written, performed, and self-produced this one-person show, and he’s managed to create a heartfelt, reflective and, at times, funny piece of theatre.
His entrance to an almost empty stage, apart from a small shrine, candle lit in one corner and under half-lighting, is powerful and still. Early on, with the use of a projector, we are brought into what feels like an art piece; tiled images on loop, in which he moves, shirtless, in front of.
These movements are held for what might feel a moment too long, but so early on in the game, it feels bravely committed to and is beautiful to watch for its tradition and vulnerability.
Muniandy is easy to watch on stage. He holds a gentle but compelling presence. The set-up of his work is simple but effective. The main event, speed dating in Berlin, sees him meeting a number of potential suitors, which we hear through voice-over. We also hear him responding, holding conversations that soon become interrogative and then therapeutic, whether he wants them to or not. For each interaction, he symbolically shifts the position of the chair he is sitting on; a subtle device to indicate a new potential connection. A favourite touch of mine.
It is in these interactions with the voice-overs that the humour comes through, with its on-the-nose sexually-fulled language and personality. The voiced characters demonstrate either their privilege, which allows them to live unaffected by the thorns of racism and judgment that Muniandy has had to face, or they share their experience of it; perhaps shedding light on a new angle, and bringing some challenge to his own views. Comedy is found in how recognisable all this is through our own conversations or perhaps even our own experiences. Poignancy is found too because, again, we recognise it for its faults. Culture, sexuality and privilege are brought to the front for discussion.
The device of the voice over does eventually become monotonous, however, and we are left wanting a sharper dynamic shift for us to be more entertained. The powerful quality found in the start, of bravely forcing us to watch for a beat too long, recurs throughout, but goes on to hinder rather than support the drive of the piece. The audience is willing to sit, learn and understand, but more might need to be done to keep us locked in, to make us feel as if we are also part of the discussion rather than simply overhearing it.
All the components are there for Second Class Queer to pack a punch, but it needs some tweaking in the pacing and more given to keep us with Muniandy throughout. This is despite us liking him and compassionately rooting for him to find his answers, peace and love.
Written, designed, & produced by Kumar Muniandy
Read more about Second Class Queer in our recent interview here.
Second Class Queer plays at Theatro Technis as part of Camden Fringe until Friday August 1.