Afterglow – it was fine.
Whenever I head to a theatre, I want to be transported to another world. It doesn’t matter whether that’s a loft apartment in one of the greatest cities in the world, or a make believe land full of rainbows. For a couple of hours, I want to find myself lost in a narrative, yearning to be a fly on the wall or invited to be a part of the production.
Yet, for me, my first thought on leaving the auditorium was that Afterglow was okay, that it was fine.
It’s not that there is anything particularly bad about the production. The staging is dynamic albeit a health-and-safety nightmare (I’ll come onto this again later), and resetting by the cast can always be tricky. But there isn’t anything particularly good about this production either.
Instead of becoming immersed in another reality, we are treated to bare skin. It’s cheeky (pun intended) but after the perhaps initial shock-factor of the three handsome actors becoming nude throughout (circa 75% of the act), I’m not sure that this devise adds anything other than allowing us (nee forcing us) to become voyeurs.
In fact, the pre-curtain announcement we’re all familiar with proudly asks for us as usual to switch and put away our phones, though with added sass: ‘Absolutely no recording of this production is allowed. The cast do not consent.’ Obviously, the right to privacy is paramount, and no one should be recording any live theatre. But they go further and encourage the audience to become vigilantes to report anyone they see.
Centre stage in this production is a shower, aiding the storytelling with numerous scenes set under a cascade of water, four if my memory serves. And whilst it’s an ingenious concept, that works up to a point, it caused unnecessary risks. Water, on top of glossy flooring led to the character of Josh even slipping and taking quite a fall.
He, and credit to him, continued in character, giving the audience some light relief at what could have been a much more severe accident, incorporating it ad lib into his next line.
But the overall reality seems to me that the writer’s view of complex relationships like that between Josh, Alex and Darius, are destined to fall. The plot lacked emotion, and I left feeling nothing for any of our protagonists. I had no empathy, no sympathy, and for me, that’s a real problem with this piece.
It was fine, and the scathing reality is that I’m glad I didn’t pay full price for my ticket. I’ve just checked what the current price of a ticket is, and it’s £5 cheaper than what I paid – so read into that what you like.
If you want to have a cheeky night out with the girlies where you quaff some bubbles and laugh at the fact you saw three nude men on stage and wasn’t that groundbreaking, then sure, be my guest. However, if you’d rather spend time grappling with big questions that have affected queer lives and allow us a deeper contemplation of our very being, I’d perhaps refresh the listings on QX Magazine.