Strong performances and poetic writing carry this ambitious queer story, even when the rehearsed reading format limits its full potential
A house full of women — past and present — grapples with grief, identity, and the weight of inherited expectations in Love (and Other Languages), a new queer play by Raffaella Sero. Presented as a rehearsed reading by Headstrong Theatre and directed by Elizabeth Laurence, the play spans three generations of women in Southern Italy, weaving together family secrets, queer awakenings, and linguistic misfires with beautiful and often poetic writing.
The play unfolds across dual timelines. In the present day, 27-year-old Eva and her family return to their home in Italy as her Nonna Rosa nears death. At the same time, Eva — with the help of Little Rosa and the ever-reliable “Am I A Lesbian? Masterdoc” — tries to understand her feelings and herself, as she falls in love with a woman for the first time. In the past, a young woman named Imma is sent to live with Aldo and his Italian-American wife, Lina, to learn English. But a romance blossoms between her and Lina — one that transcends cultural differences. While Imma picks up English remarkably fast, it’s clear she and Lina already speak the same language in love. Meanwhile, others in the family remain divided across literal and emotional languages — Eva’s mother, Maria, can’t understand her daughter’s queerness, shown by their argumentative dialogue in different languages.
As the timelines overlap, Eva, Imma, and those around them begin to confront the quiet weight of compulsory heterosexuality — and what it means to build a home with those you don’t have to translate yourself for.
Sero’s writing shines in poetic monologues and charged silences. Imagery like that of time folding “like a croissant” reflect the play’s central idea: that love, identity, and memory are layered, fluid, and sometimes shaped (or strained) by language and expectations. But the play’s ambition sometimes works against its clarity. With a large ensemble and multiple interwoven narratives, emotionally significant moments can feel rushed or underdeveloped — particularly in the present timeline.
Still, the actors bring impressive depth to the reading, even from seated positions with scripts on stands. Rachel Oyawale shines in the dual role of Eva and Imma, offering an emotionally grounded performance that underscores both the parallels and contrasts between the two characters. Imogen Gray is a standout as Didi — sharp, hilarious, and confident, she brings levity and charm, especially in scenes with the wild Little Rosa, played with a perfect blend of comedy and vulnerability by Aria Baker.
Laurence’s direction maintains a lively pace despite the limits of the format, though some time-shifting scenes feel abrupt, leading to occasional confusion or missed connections between timelines. The stripped-back staging (lights up, actors seated) allows the text to take centre stage but also makes it harder for moments of emotional intensity to fully land. Key scenes, such as Imma and Lina’s first kiss or Aldo’s violent outburst, don’t always have the space to breathe or unfold with the weight they deserve — a limitation that feels inherent to the format rather than the writing.
Even with its bumps, Love (and Other Languages) stays with you. Its portrayal of the quiet, painful ways compulsory heterosexuality shapes women’s lives is delicate and poignant. When Eva finally sends a voice note to the girlfriend she’s been pushing away, choosing honesty over fear, the play ends on a note of hope.
With clearer direction and tighter editing, a full production could allow this piece to fully realise the potential in its emotional and thematic complexity. Even in this early form, it’s a tender, ambitious work — one worth looking out for.