REVIEW: What It Means

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Unveiling ‘What It Means’: A Riveting Tale of Identity, Defiance, and LGBTQ+ Legacy

Upon stepping into Wilton’s Music Hall, one is immediately struck by the grandeur of the space. It is, in fact, an old music hall that carries an air of enchanting hauntings, having been imbued with theatre’s essence for generations. The set is simple—a room with a solitary wall at the back, adorned with books and clutter. All that awaits us is our encounter with Merle. He doesn’t keep us waiting long. “I’m here, don’t panic, I’m here,” are his initial words to us, and indeed, we mustn’t panic. Merle stays with us for over an hour, inviting us into his life and his mind. 

“What It Means,” penned by James Corley and skilfully directed by Harry Mackrill, traces one man’s path to coming out and unravels the intricate truth behind a seemingly simple question: What does it mean to be homosexual? And what does it mean to Merle? 

Of course, we all know who Merle Miller is, and he is well aware of it too. An acclaimed journalist, former editor of Harper’s Magazine, a resident of the quaint town of Brewster in upstate New York. Life is quite comfortable for Merle. He’s seated in his glass house, engrossed in his third novel. So why is he experiencing such distress? It’s because of the protestors outside, disrupting his peace. Who are they? Oh, they’re Queer people advocating for their rights, for gay liberation. Why now? Should that even be a question? Well, if you must know, in September 1970, Harper’s Magazine (Merle’s former workplace) published an article titled ‘Homo/Hetero: The Struggle for Sexual Identity’, where the writer, Joseph Epstein, stated: “If I had the power to do so, I would wish homosexuality off the face of the earth.” 

Merle’s response: “I say this writer is advocating genocide for homosexuals.” 

And from this juncture, we journey through stories from Merle’s life and other events, all in the quest to elucidate what it means, and, hopefully, what it no longer means to be a queer individual. 

Merle Miller was a real person, writing an article for the New York Times, publicly revealing his sexual orientation. ‘What It Means to Be a Homosexual,’ published a year after Epstein’s article in Harper’s Magazine, was a loud and proud rebuttal. It was a public declaration of identity, a rallying cry for equality, and stands as an integral part of the modern LGBTQ+ movement. 

Considering this deep and intricate history, along with the piece primarily being a one-person show, it demands an extremely challenging and formidable role, which Richard Cant made appear effortless. His performance was brilliant and enthralling. He commanded the space for over an hour, ensuring it never felt like we had been there for that duration. The subject matter itself isn’t the most accessible to an average audience, and if it isn’t handled correctly, it can become confusing and convoluted. However, through Cant’s embodiment of Merle, it didn’t matter if one didn’t grasp the context of everything he said. It was more about how it was conveyed. One truly got a sense of what Miller might’ve been like, especially during the writing of that article. At times funny and ironic, bordering on bitter and apathetic, and at other times, one could see the anger, fear, and genuine anguish that comes with hiding a part of yourself. “…when you keep one part of yourself secret, that becomes the most important part of you.”

The introduction of the ‘Boy from Pittsburgh,’ portrayed by Cayvan Coates, marked a significant shift, as the audience and Merle had been lulled into the comfortable dynamic of just us. Coates’s performance was explosive and youthful, countering Cant’s ironic wit with raw vulnerability. He didn’t have an upstate New York country house to retreat to. For him, coming out could mean homelessness. Merle’s glass house might allow the world to peek inside, but he’s still shielded from the cold. While the introduction of the Boy was a welcome change in pace and tone, the execution felt a bit muddled, with insufficient time spent allowing us to comprehend his place in the piece. 

“What It Means” may no longer carry the same significance as it did for Merle Miller and countless others, but it is crucial for us to remember this often-overlooked part of history. The queer community still battles substantial prejudice and discrimination, and fear and alienation are still prevalent. Hard-won progress is being challenged and destroyed, often by those in positions of power. We cannot afford to let the courageous actions of individuals like Merle be forgotten.

What are your thoughts?