In Conversation with Alexis Gregory

Smoke dives into the blurred line between reality and fantasy in the post-truth era. What inspired you to explore this theme, and how does it relate to your personal experiences, particularly your own encounter with privacy invasion?

I think Smoke has really been brewing in me for decades. But the majority of the writing was done over the summer of 2022. I sat on my doorstep to do so, and got a suntan at the same time. I was struck by gay men, in my feeds, filming their psychotic episodes and sharing them, and writing and sharing posts that were also very heightened and clearly also indicated psychological delusions. As a gay man, and knowing how prevalent drugs are on the scene, I made an assumption that some of these episodes are drug related. I also got hacked, and they tried to get into all my accounts, from my social media to my Apple ID, to my PayPal. I had the idea of Alex, my character in Smoke, being hacked, and ‘receiving’ a message via his deceased lover’s account. A couple of days after that, I got a fake message on Insta from a gay guys account who had recently died. I couldn’t not continue to develop Smoke.

Your play focuses heavily on themes of surveillance, paranoia, and self-documentation in the digital age. How do you think the rise of social media and the loss of privacy have particularly impacted queer identities and relationships?

From a gay male point of view, self-documentation can be very appealing. Many gay men, especially younger, like to be looked at, and live elevated lives, or live lives that echo those of celebrities. I’m always fascinated by gay men posting ‘Ask Me A Question’ in their Insta stories. Many gay men also love sharing transformation pics; look at me then, and look at me now, and how much ‘better’ I look now. Modern gay lifestyles have always been fed by the aesthetic, and beauty. And today, the modern gay urban experience can encourage narcissism and self-obsession and self-centredness. These are not alien traits to many gay men. One can leave some of that behind, as one gets older. But not always. Presenting perfection on Insta is also appealing to gay men I think, as we often are driven to overachieve, and what’s the point of overachieving if no one knows about it.

In Smoke, Alex receives a message from his deceased ex-partner’s Instagram, sparking a dark and suspenseful journey. How did you balance the thriller aspect with the raw emotional exploration of queer life and relationships?

The queerness of the piece, in terms of it’s setting, themes, the characters, and what they experience is totally integrated into the script. In ’Smoke’ in the shape of a thriller, and dark, biting comedy. It is all from me, and so filtered via a queer lens; my own. You could look at the script, and your evening at the theatre in various ways. The tale, and journey of a queer man on the edge in London, or of ‘just’ a man on the edge in London. Much of what pushes Alex to act how he does is specifically because of his queerness; his experiences as a gay adolescent, with drugs, in gay relationships, the specific alienation he experiences etc. I think a queer audience will pick up on all this, and view in a certain way.

You’ve mentioned that this play marks a departure from your previous work. What challenges did you face while creating this more stripped-back, plot-driven production, and how did collaborating with Campbell X influence the direction of the piece?

Well this isn’t the first time one of my plays has had a plot!! I think the challenges will happen in the performance, in front of an audience. I am very exposed with this one. Nothing to rely on apart from me and the words in terms of conveying the story to the audience. No clever lighting design or soundscape. The audience is fully lit throughout too. We’re all in it together. Writing and performance wise, I’m quite ‘big. I’m interested in what theatre ‘is’, rather than reality. However, in Smoke, I do lean into a more naturalistic performance, although Alex is pretty wild which adds to the heightened nature of what’s unfolding on stage. I think, writing-wise, this is my most conversational piece. Again, that felt natural. Campbell has completely embraced my vision from the play, and added so much to it already; encouraging me to lean into the ‘selfie\ style documentation in the palms branding for example, and inherently understanding Alex’s journey as a gay man, and his drive to, quote simply survive the city as a man,

Humor plays a key role in tackling heavy themes like conspiracy theories and digital obsession in Smoke. How did you approach using humor to address such intense and personal topics, and what impact do you hope it has on the audience?

I don’t consciously approach integrating humour into my work. It just happens. I feel that I ‘channel’ the humour. It happens naturally. Normally when I write, I know how each funny line with land with an audience and how they respond. However, in each script I write there, are often two lines that get big laughs every-night, that I didn’t anticipate the audience would find funny. They can even be quote ‘throwaway lines’. So I am surprised by my scripts, and audiences, often. The humour is very knowing, from a queer perspective, I think. And so I hope there are laughs of recognition. Alex is a Bad Gay, and Bad Gays are ALWAYS more fun to depict.