My Son’s a Queer, (But what can you do?) – Garrick Theatre

Rob Madge in My Son’s a Queer, (But what can you do?) at the Garrick Theatre, London. Picture: Mark Senior

My Son’s a Queer, (But what can you do?) continues at the Garrick Theatre, London until 6 November 2022.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

What is this Fringe show doing in a West End theatre? Why is this one-person, 65-minute long production on the same platform as those gigantic affairs with flying witches and French barricades? My Son’s a Queer, (But what can you do?) must really be something quite special.

Over lockdown, many of us were entertained and delighted by actor/writer Rob Madge’s Twitter shenanigans, the highlights of which were of course the postings of old VHS clips of their monstrously flamboyant childhood. Over the course of many years, Madge took it upon themself to conceive, rehearse and put on a range of impressively ambitious – and often Disney-themed – performances at their family home. Crucially, they were always careful to ensure these masterworks were filmed.

Many of the biggest laughs in this show come from the playback of these adorable videos, but My Son’s a Queer is so much more than a stagey You’ve Been Framed. Madge uses these glimpses into who they were as a child to discuss how they became the person they are now, the road they took to get here with all the temptations to stray from their true identity, and how happiness can only come from being who you are deep down. For all Madge declares themself to be a narcissist in this show, the real heroes are revealed to be their parents, Jon and Jan.

This is a show about the importance of accepting and supporting young people for who they are. In a touching recorded interview, Madge’s father admits to some initial hesitation when his child seemed to be veering away from the traditional ‘football and toy soldiers’ direction he had envisaged. However, he soon realised that whatever difficulties young Rob faced at school or in wider society, by providing a stable home life, they would be able to be happy and thrive. Not all parents are so supportive, and even fewer have a West End show dedicated to them, but all who encourage their children to embrace what makes them special are heroes.

Alongside the VHS clips, the other great secret weapon in My Son’s a Queer is the score. Given all we know about Madge’s younger years and loves, it was inevitable that this show would be something of a musical. The songs are delightful throwbacks to classic musical theatre fare: brilliantly catchy and full of energy. Pippa Cleary’s compositions allow Madge to express the full range of madness they hold within themselves, and the lyrics the pair have co-written are as funny as the dialogue and home videos.

The production design and costumes (Ryan Dawson Laight), video and projection design (George Reeve) and lighting (Jai Morjaria) are also incredibly effective. Though some lines about the show being low budget remain from its early Turbine Theatre and Edinburgh Festival Fringe days, the stage is gorgeously decorated as a living room, albeit one with glamorous lights, smoke and even a disco ball sneaking into frame when the show ramps into fantasy.

The climax of the piece is ‘We Will Be Loved Anyway’, a soaring anthem for all special people who must come to terms with diverging from society’s expectations. Some may have parents as wonderful as Madge’s and some may not, but all are worthy of love and happiness. There are high-budget, three-hour shows on the West End that do not tug on the heartstrings nearly as much as this moment in an ostensibly silly comedy show of home videos and childhood stories. For many, what Madge, director Luke Sheppard, and the rest of the team have put together here could well be a life-changing production.

With humour, heart, and a delightfully distinctive voice at its centre, My Son’s a Queer is a practically perfect iteration of a fringe show. How wonderful that it is being hosted for a short run in a major West End theatre so more people can experience the joy this show exudes from its every pore. We don’t go to the theatre for epic running times and special effects: we have superhero movies for that. Theatre at its best gives us the irreplaceable experience of living emotional extremes in community with others, and this show delivers that with sequins and a smile. Purely wonderful.

Ian Bowkett