Finally, a story for the rural queer kids
‘Everybody Panic’, the company behind All Of Them, Dead, have identified their creative origins and audience extremely effectively. This has resulted in All Of Them, Dead having a wonderfully vivid sense of time and place, one that balances absurdity, representation and nostalgia brilliantly. Writer and Co-Director Thom Munden transports us to the rural Wisbech Fens, 2003, outside the back of a ‘Burger Queen’ van. The world is hurtling into apocalypse; the skies have opened a ceaseless rain of deadly infected meat, yet as the world drops away around them, teenagers Corey (Daniel Ferrier) and Harry (Daniel Metcalfe) attempt to defend their existence against the empty wasteland which threatens it.
A real highlight of this production was the incorporation of videography into the storytelling. August Richards’ video direction combined with Victoria Spearing’s set design creates a perfect storm, with a surveillance-style screen on the back of the burger van multiplying the worlds we can enter onstage. Throughout the production, this screen was used to depict fantastic montages of Corey and Harry which reached beyond the action onstage, affording the production a highly engaging pace. Richards creates montages reminiscent of early 2000s music videos which offer greater insight into the character’s interiority through close, thoughtful shots. These montages are contrasted with news broadcasts which repeatedly interrupt the piece, depicting the unravelling of an uncomfortably familiar yet comically hypocritical UK government. Nathan Peter Grassi delivers a particularly convincing depiction of the UK Prime Minister, becoming evermore ruthless and authoritarian in the face of the world ending.
However, as this inevitable end approaches, a romance between Corey and Harry begins. Full of tenderness yet brimming with doubt and shame, their budding relationship is a fantastically well-observed representation of the rural queer experience: attempting to express queer alterity without the language, role models or support to be able to do so. Metcalfe as Harry beautifully depicts his character’s desire to escape a system that fails to nurture sensitivity and difference, while Ferrier offers a moving counterpoint as Corey, who has almost entirely given up the hope of a better life or a life in which he could live as an openly gay man. While both these characters were highly compelling, I wanted more from their points of conflict, which were repeatedly delivered on a level of high, angered intensity where there was room to push the hurt and nuance. Similarly, I wonder if there is room to develop our insights into Corey’s homelife – this important detail of familial neglect seemed a little swiftly told. I would be tempted to extend this 1hr20 play to a 90 minute piece, where this storyline is interrogated slightly further, ensuring that the incredible representational work this play is doing lands firmly on its feet throughout.
All Of Them, Dead has exceptional talent for subtle yet powerful political resonance. Munden’s 2003 setting takes on a greater resonance as we recall Section 28, a censorship law against educating about LGBTQ+ experiences in UK schools. Moreover the title not only evokes the fictional apocalypse but reminds us of the lost generation of gay male role models for 21st century queer youth following the Aids Crisis, an isolation which is exacerbated in rural locations.
‘Everybody Panic’ have identified that a huge threat to queer youth is a lack of community. As a company committed to mentoring the next generation of rural queer voices, making space for young creatives on their team and delivering workshops and outreach opportunities in the Oxfordshire community, their activism against young queer isolation extends admirably beyond the stage. I will be keeping a very close eye on what this exciting company gets up to next and I strongly recommend you catch All Of Them, Dead as they continue to tour throughout July.