A caricature comedy of manners opens brand new Kings Head Theatre not with a bang but with a muffled thump
The oldest pub theatre in the UK, running for 53 years, closed its doors in August 2023, and has now reopened as a shiny new purpose-built venue beneath the Islington Square shopping centre. The Kings Head Theatre, decorated in neon, boasts a 200 seater venue alongside a smaller cabaret performance area. Though not quite as exciting on the inside as one might hope, the opening of this venue is a win for the arts, at a time when arts funding is being savagely cut across the board. And to christen a new performance space you need a fantastic new play to draw in the crowds…
Exhibitionists is their play of choice. Writers Shayn McKenna and Andrew Van Sickle started out discussing what the work of LGBT writers during the 1930s and ‘40s might have looked like, had they been able to openly write about and express their sexuality without the severe backlash which would have been inevitable at the time (and has not entirely cleared from society today). From that, the pair developed an idea: what would a gay comedy of modern manners look like in 2024? McKenna and Van Sickle note their inspirations, from Rattigan and Ayckbourn to Shakespeare and Aristophanes. But the play itself appears to be a modern queer reimagining of Noel Coward’s Private Lives, albeit set in an art gallery in San Francisco, and with the addition of a fifth character.
Designer-clad lawyer Conor (Ashley D Gayle) and free-loving starchitect Robbie (Robert Rees) have been divorced for seven years. Their marriage was fiery, passionate and dysfunctional. Robbie is now sober, Conor now works for Disney, and both have moved on: married, and (sort of) engaged. Conor’s new husband is the young, self-proclaimed-twink Mal (Jake Mitchell-Jones), who met him on set while working as a runner. Robbie is now with Rayyan (Rolando Montecalvo), a gardener with a child and ex-wife, who is struggling to acclimatise to life as an openly gay man. The unsuspecting exes come face-to-face at their mutual friend’s exhibition. Robbie and Conor’s old flame reignites and off they run together, leaving their unsuspecting partners behind with just a text to say goodbye. Then begins the chase: the jilted Rayyan and Mal team up in pursuit of their lovers, bickering along the way. As in Private Lives, the pairs end up in neighbouring hotel rooms. The play culminates in an explosive final scene which sees the four lovers hash out their relationships, with the unexpected addition of the sexy hotel owner Sebastian (Øystein Lode).
It’s a promising (though familiar) concept. It’s farcical, and with the success of Mischief Theatre and the return of Noises Off to the West End, farces are all the rage. The play is intended to be a comedy, though many of the jokes fall flat – aside from a few witty quips sprinkled throughout which land with a scattering of audience laughter. Exhibitionists promises to be an exploration and celebration of contemporary queer identity and lifestyle, but it lacks depth and honesty. The characters are caricatures, pouting, eye-rolling and posing their way through the action. They kiss one moment and swing for each other the next, flicking between emotional states with no clear journey. The actors themselves seem to be pushing to sell characters which they know aren’t believable. They rely on heightened expression – it’s camp melodrama, which can be fantastically entertaining when executed well, but in this instance is strained and awkward. It’s surprising to see such an accomplished collection of actors performing in this way – perhaps the fault lies in poor directing and writing.
Beneath the kerfuffle there are some important themes explored: heteronormativity, monogamy vs open relationships, and the difficulties many members of the LGBT+ community experience when it comes to coming out and openly expressing their identity. As a member of this community myself it is wonderful to see these stories unfold onstage. But there were also some moments in this play which I felt could be damaging: a normalising – even romanticising – of domestic violence as the couples pummelled each other, and a disregard for addiction as Robbie shrugs off years of sobriety with a swig of wine. Perhaps with a different approach in style and some reworking this play could become a truly entertaining source of joy and celebration for the community – but there’s a lot of work to be done.