We sat down for an exclusive interview with writer and performer Cecilia Corrigan ahead of her Edinburgh Fringe debut with the hilarious off-Broadway hit The Gay Divorce. Partly inspired by her own experiences, the show is a fantastical reflection on a gay woman’s divorce, featuring a host of larger-than-life characters, including a Witch and a Worm, all played by Corrigan.
This show runs from 7-29th August at Willow Studio at Greenside @ Riddles Court – Tickets here.
How did characters like a drag twink Jesus and a very angry worm help you explore heartbreak in ways a realistic comedy couldn’t?
I’ve always been drawn to characters that are larger than life but are also experiencing something very relatable or grounded in reality. And heartbreak is naturally just so dramatic; even if it doesn’t involve abuse or toxic relationships, it’s always so visceral. And I find the best way to process the feelings of shame and confusion that can come up around those experiences is through larger-than-life expressions. These intense, universal human emotions, like shame, can feel very isolating. And we often want to rationalize our way out of those feelings because they’re so uncomfortable. But I think we can find empathy for our own fear and shame by seeing the humor in the intensity. So these characters emerged as we explored the most extreme versions of emotions we might feel are kind of cringe.
Why did a “nightmare romcom” feel like the right form for telling the story of a collapsing gay marriage?
Well, I think the end of any dream, whether it’s a relationship or aspiration or a belief, feels kind of like falling out of a fantasy into a bad dream. And the show plays with the whole narrative of romance and the way it’s meant to culminate in marriage, and how it’s always been presented as this kind of dream. In actual romcoms it’s always the end of the story, but in reality relationships are always more complicated than that, and sometimes unfortunately, much darker. I was also thinking about how marriage specifically has been a dream to fight for for a lot of the gay community historically, so it’s always had this like, far-off Dream like quality. And now that we’ve won it, who knows whether we’ll be able to hold onto it for long, (especially in my home country!) In some ways, marriage feels like something that was built up by a culture that wouldn’t really allow us to access it.
What made you want to examine patriarchal dynamics within queer relationships through comedy?
Well, you know what they say, “if you don’t laugh you’ll cry,” LOL. And in The Gay Divorce, we do both, crying and laughing with and at the try-hard, pick-me protagonist as she tries to become the perfect femme trophy wife. And she is so, so not cool, partly because she says the quiet part out loud: she’s trying to marry rich, and sees it as her job to fulfill that role. And the ways she’s ridiculous and absurd illuminates how even queer relationships are subject to the protocols of power and coolness, and we want to explore who wins when we say something is cool or uncool, and where femme-ness fits in that dynamic.
Do you think earnestness has become more radical in a culture that often rewards irony?
Yes. Gosh, I think part of why people are more interested in clown forms now as opposed to satire is that ironic detachment no longer seems adequate to the moment. In my non-extensive but enthusiastic training with clown, I’ve found a language for the kind of exchange that I’d like to have with audiences that’s more about discovering something together as opposed to doing something intellectually “at” the audience. The world now feels so somatically overwhelming that the best way that we can respond artistically is to express that with your body with these larger-than-life comedic impulses that come from a deeply childlike place. Plus, with technology consuming and relegating our lives, we’re more detached than ever from our bodies, so expression through the body becomes a relief that people are craving.
How has The Gay Divorce evolved as it’s travelled from Philadelphia to Off-Broadway and now Edinburgh?
Working with my collaborators, Cliff Mak and Allison Brooks has been so rewarding, from the first incarnation of the show, where we let the characters come fully to life, to our most recent run in Brooklyn at The Brick, where we tightened and clarified what we are saying, what story the characters are telling. There’s a growing comfort and familiarity with the characters that’s helped me perform more clearly and precisely. That’s influenced audience response, too! For instance, when we’ve clarified certain plot points, different things become funny in the show. And this most recent run is where we discovered Jessica, the amazing character created by our director Alison Brook, who is the secret weapon of the show and just elevates the comedy every time she’s onstage. That was a joyful discovery we made in the development process.
Of all the characters you play, which is the most enjoyable to perform and why?
Honestly, probably the most fun to play is drag twink Jesus, because Jesus is just That Girl, you know? Like he has a true confidence that can only come with being like, the Messiah. And that’s something I don’t think I’ll ever get to experience: feeling that confident that people are gonna love me, in my mortal human life.
Jesus also really loves the crowd, he relishes the crowd adoring him.
I didn’t expect the character to be as fun to play as he ended up being, because he sort of came out of the fear of talking about toxic relationships, thinking about the idea of framing oneself as the victim as something that might seem kind of self-pitying. And Jesus emerged out of the impulse to melodramatically make fun of the idea of creating art where you’re the victim. Then once I started exploring the character and sharing it with audiences, it was just really fun. And I have a lot of fun with all the characters, but with Jesus, I don’t have to do anything too physically difficult, like wrapped up in a huge slippery cloth and writhe around — that’s the worm!