The crux of the story is community
There is no time like Pride Month to see queer theatre – and Beth Watson’s confessional Hasbian is my top pick during June – and every month.
Greeted by the dulcet tones of S Club 7, I can’t help but note that I’ve never felt safer in a theatre community; the space that is created by both Watson and the rest of the creative team of Hasbian is second to none in terms of inclusivity. A lot of care has clearly gone into the accessible aspects of the performance – it is captioned and audio described throughout, and the program makes clear that accessibility has been the heart of the show from the outset.
Indeed, it is the heart of the show that sings Hasbian’s praises. It is simultaneously relatable and educational – Watson strikes an expert balance between including the cringeworthy teenage experience we all remember, and creating a unique insight into growing up queer in the 90’s. While the verbatim diary entries that make up the bulk of the show are admittedly shocking – and hilarious – there is a real hard-hitting truth to them. Watson makes no denial that the comforting presence of Brighton in which they grew up certainly allowed for an unabashed adolescent experience, Margaret Thatcher (greatly interpreted as a projected demon) and Section 28 do loom large. P Burton-Morgan’s direction provides a needed delicacy regarding the topics discussed, while always daring to face said topics head-on.
It hits, as well, as a very timely piece, when discussions of gender identity and current governance are brought up. Brilliant multimedia elements by Edalia Day immerse us entirely in Watson’s world. There is a ripple amongst the audience – created by a well-balanced amount of audience participation – when Watson mentions the queer teachers that shaped their upbringing, and draws the comparison between the censorship of teachers in schools today. As Watson begins to get emotional towards the end of the closing monologue, I feel that emotion reflected by the audience. Between jokey asides about teenage polycules and references to noughties romcom, we receive a raw and not-often-seen perspective of what it means to question who you love, and what that means about you.
The crux of the story of Hasbian is community; Watson makes this much clear with the multiple thank yous voiced at the end of the performance. While the tone of the piece is reflective, Hasbian feels very much like story for our times – as every queer story should be.