An attempt to delve into sexuality and gender identity that simply misses the mark.

Do you believe in love at first sight? This question is the headliner of Candy (written by Tim Fraser), which began life as a fifteen minute short at Bunker Theatre in 2018, and over the last five years has been added to and adapted into the full sixty minute one-man show that it is now.

The story goes like this: 

Will, portrayed by Michael Waller, is a typical northern lad. He enjoys spending time with his mates over a pint, has a job in car insurance where he smashes it with the sales, and pops over fairly often to see his mum and his great-aunt (who he refers to as Toadface). Everything in Will’s life seems to be going smoothly until his best friend Billy, who transforms into the captivating drag queen known as Candy, invites him to one of her performances. Suddenly, Will falls head over heels in love with Candy.

Now, Will finds himself in a dilemma, torn between his logical thinking and his overpowering urges to express his emotions to this mysterious lady. Candy, with her sultry, blonde looks and mesmerising voice, is nothing short of enchanting, but in reality, she’s just an alter ego of Billy. However, to Will, Candy represents everything he desires. 

Will’s life takes a tumultuous turn as he grapples with his growing infatuation with Candy. He finds himself daydreaming about her, losing focus at work, and confronting a profound loneliness within him. However, a tragic event ultimately leads Will to open up and confess his true feelings…

When I initially booked to see this show I had high hopes for an engaging exploration of sexuality and gender. It seems that was the play’s intention, but I felt it ultimately fell short of achieving this. While the concept is intriguing and occasionally provides moments of light humour, it lacks depth and fails to deliver a clear message. Despite Will’s internal struggle regarding his attraction to a drag queen, the play never truly delves into or examines his sexuality, at least not beyond a couple of sex dreams. 

It’s not all a miss though. The play notably shines a light on the challenges of men’s mental health. It becomes apparent that Will grapples with a deep-seated loneliness, uncovering past anger management issues that trace back to a strained relationship – or rather, the absence thereof – with his father. He withdraws from his friends and conceals his emotions, allowing them to disrupt both his professional and social life. It’s clear that seeking therapy could have significantly aided Will in handling this situation more effectively – something that I feel a lot of men could learn. Moreover, the play highlights toxic male cultures, where young boys must leave home to liberate themselves from the weight of harmful male stereotypes. In a society that, despite making progress in certain areas, still largely holds onto the idea that “boys don’t cry,” it is crucial to highlight the genuine mental health challenges that men encounter.

As Will, Michael Waller embodies a friendly, open, and personable guy. He does well in creating a feel that he’s having a casual chat with you, sharing his story in a friendly way over a pint. However, the performance does fall somewhat short in terms of depth. It’s a bit unclear whether this is due to lack of acting experience (he also works as a respiratory doctor specialising in cystic fibrosis), if it’s due to poor direction from Nico Rao Pimparé, or maybe it’s just how the character was written – lacking a real journey or emotional transformation.

To be honest, the show could’ve used a bit more pep in its step when it comes to pacing. And it wouldn’t have hurt to see more distinct differences between the characters Waller portrayed – like Billy, his mum, his boss, and others. They all seemed to have a similar vibe to Will, and the transitions between characters felt quite basic, often just involving a step and a turn of the head.

I have to take a moment to mention the original music from Stephen Waller, a lovely moment of smooth jazz which warmed the room when Candy took to the stage. 

In summary, Candy didn’t fully meet expectations. It wasn’t the worst way to spend sixty minutes, and there were moments of laughter, but I left feeling somewhat underwhelmed, or perhaps just whelmed. If you do want to catch the show, it’s running until 9th September at Park Theatre. 

(And if you do go, please, I beg you on behalf of your fellow audience members, wait to unwrap the candy at the end of the show.)