
Picture: Pamela Raith Photography
Cruise continues at the Duchess Theatre, London until 13 June 2021.
Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Live, in-person storytelling is back. Thank the theatre gods.
Once upon a time, actor/writer Jack Holden (War Horse, Lewis) sat down for a shift at Switchboard – the LGBTQ+ listening helpline – and received a call from an older man called Michael. After an awkward start, Michael proceeded to tell young Jack the story of what he thought was his last night on Earth, a story that takes in queer Soho culture of the 1980s, an expansive cast of charming characters and the devastating impact of the HIV and AIDS epidemic.
Holden debuted this piece digitally last month and it has now opened on the West End at the Duchess Theatre. You will no doubt have built up a long list of shows you need to see now that live theatre has returned, but this vital and gut-punching tour de force absolutely deserves your attention before its short run comes to an end next month.
Jack Holden delivers a superb performance, or rather: dozens of superb performances. He presents each well-drawn character with such distinct energy and affection that at times it barely registers there is only one actor on stage. He develops a connection with the audience early on and does not allow for a single moment of disconnection as he takes us through the true adventure.
There are echoes here of the ancient origins of theatre: a group of people drawn together to hear a great communicator tell a tale of decades past. But director Bronagh Lagan has clearly worked hard to bring the show decisively into the modern day of theatrical innovation. Nik Corrall and Stufish’s marvellous set and design work operates in tandem with Jai Morjaria’s flickering neon lighting to establish the tone. There is a strange joy in the theatrical dinge and dank, perhaps because many of the audience have been avoiding city centres over the last 14 months. The exposed wiring and poorly-painted brick transport us instantly to a 1980s Soho that changed the lives of many.
The centrepiece of the set is a rotating metal structure that resembles a children’s climbing frame designed by a horror film psychopath. With a shift in Morjaria’s lighting and a 90° spin it can transform into the most mundane of call centres, and then into a glittering drag bar (Royal Vauxhall Tavern to be specific – and it is heartening to hear specific venues and streets get a namecheck to excited whoops from the London crowd).
At the side of the stage in his raised DJ booth stands John Elliott of the band The Little Unsaid, the show’s music and sound designer. As much as Holden deserves a lot of credit for his outstanding writing and acting, this piece can’t quite be described as a one-man show. Elliott underscores scenes with his brilliantly composed live synth and guitar score, aiding the theatre’s transformation into Soho’s nightclubs just as much as the excellent set and lighting work. By the time of the climax of the show – a powerful fantasy of a heaven populated by the many, many men who suffered an untimely death due to HIV and AIDS – Holden and Elliott are working in a transcendent tandem. It is a heart-stopping moment of modern musical theatre.
And at the centre of all these production and performance miracles is a piece of writing that barely even needs them. This is a spellbinding story that seems to progress at exactly the pace the rapt audience wills it to: racing through montages of colourful clubs and characters before slowing down to allow us to feel the full impact of a true love, horrific disease, or – delightfully – the debut of the Yamaha DX7 synthesiser. The story celebrates the club culture of 80s Soho honestly: never sterilising or sugar-coating, and only over-romanticising to the extent any of us might when having the best night of our lives on a packed dancefloor.
This documenting of a disappearing (or at least evolving) Soho subculture elevates the piece beyond a nice tale well told. It puts into context the contemporary queer experience and memorialises the people and places that made it possible. Many of us in the audience will – like Holden – not have lived through 1980s Soho. Cruise makes inescapably human a time in London and queer history that should not be forgotten so soon. It is a stunning piece of theatre.
Ian Bowkett
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