A funny, resonant exploration of what it means to be black and gay
The FORGE FESTIVAL is Southwark Playhouse’s new week-long event, offering four young theatre companies ‘The Little’ auditorium to premiere fresh work. Visual Sauce’s Positive follows long-time friends Malachai (Malachai Antonio) and Ade (Kojo Quainoo) as they navigate the twists and turns of the UK queer scene and their own friendship. In a warts-and-all representation – complete with Grindr meetups and regular STD checks – Positive has a genuinely warm friendship at its centre, fueled by sharp wit and strong characterisation.
Both Malachi and Ade are people you want to be friends with, although for very different reasons: Malachi is outrageous, direct, and great fun; Ade laid back, caring and thoughtful. Each character is easy to root for, and a joke-dense script includes the audience in the banter underpinning their friendship. As the plot unfurls, this dynamic gains complexity: both Malachi’s sadness at the end of a recent relationship and Ade’s reluctance to “act” gay foreshadow bigger issues. A sharply observed code-switching scene in a barber shop hints at further problems to come.
These dramatic moments land less effectively than the comedy, partly because the online show description gives away their big reveals. This is a great shame, sapping their emotional pay-off. Beyond this, the script rushes through its most vulnerable scenes; having got to know Ade and Malachi, it feels like such a deep friendship would take a little longer to tackle the issues they confront. Positive would be much more interesting – and emotionally involving – if it added 10 minutes to its revelatory scenes, and re-wrote its spoiler-laden blurb.
Ade and Malachi are two very distinct models of what it means to be British, black and queer; the depth and humanity of Positive’s character work gives both of their stories vital weight. The classic chalk-and-cheese pairing – one outgoing and courageous, the other shy and reserved – is freshened up here, thanks to humour unique in its time, place and community. The overwhelming feeling you come away with is of having got to know two flawed, but fundamentally nice, guys.
Not even a rowdy closing-night crowd can puncture the genuine connection you forge with Ade and Malachi, or the pleasure it is to spend an hour in their company. You find yourself genuinely invested in their struggles, and cheering them on towards success. A little more room for those emotional peaks, and a cleanse of the big reveals in its promo, would make you care even more.
