Fresh, intelligent debut drama of identity and playground politics
This debut play by British-Iranian playwright Zak Zarafshan begins as a conventional domestic drama. Two pairs of pushy parents, Sarah and Matt, and Amira and Chloe, are debating the drawbacks of city dwelling and post-partum medical conditions. But the couples’ polite chatter takes a charged turn at the revelation that their respective nine-year-old sons, Lucas and Samir, have shared a kiss. In the resulting onslaught of petitions, parties and punch-ups, differences become apparent and playground politics ensue.
Part social satire, a little like Motherland meets Heartstopper, the piece is also a nuanced analysis of internalised homophobia among parents, and the experiences of a queer person of dual heritage growing up in a heteronormative society. Zarafshan’s dialogue deftly probes weighty topics such as performative allyship, identity politics and privilege, and tension is offset with sharp wit.
Director Lisa Spirling handles the comedy with control and draws excellent performances from the cast. Amy McAllister’s squeaky Sarah is painfully desperate as she frets about appearances and overlooks her own hypocrisies, while Philip Correia allows us glimpses of the anxious turmoil beneath Matt’s macho exterior. Seyan Sarvan is deliciously acerbic as Amira, and complements the warm composure of Eleanor Wyld as her counterpart Chloe.
But it is Shane Convery and Kishore Walker’s frothy, latex-wearing cherubs who steal the show. Bursting through Aldo Vazquez’s gloriously camp, pink-panelled set, these two are the play’s “queer guardians” who, much like a Greek chorus, comment on and steer the action with moments of ludicrous divine intervention. They multi-role as secondary characters summoned to reveal the families’ inner quandaries, which feels a little formulaic – but mostly, these injections of playful magical realism drive the production and lighten the tone. In one hilariously absurd scene, Cherub Two leads a guided meditation in which Chloe’s positive affirmations descend into raucous rage-fuelled mantras and a Britney Spears lip-sync.
Spirling’s staging is clean, and while pacing occasionally feels sluggish, the stylised moments brim with energy. And, overall, this is a commendable debut carried by an adept cast. Zarafshan’s writing feels fresh and intelligent. He is an emerging talent whom we can expect to excel.
The Boys Are Kissing is available via live stream from March 7-April 7. Visit: theatre503.com
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