When I went to see Straddle: a fantasia on gay rage at the Camden Fringe last month, I was expecting something relentlessly, vividly punk. Partly due to the subtitle, partly due to the flamboyant, striking poster, which features solo performer Peter Todd costumed as a rainbow, shooting a manic smile into the camera lens with mascara tears staining his face.
In reality, the actual journey the hour-long solo show takes you on is far less confronting than its accompanying marketing. Instead, it’s a jam-packed whistlestop tour through one gay man’s coming of age; energetic, funny, and at times deeply moving. The show returns to the stage from tonight at the Bread and Roses Theatre, where it will run until Saturday.
Billed as “following the ups, downs and sideways tangents of one 15-year friendship” over the course of the show, the main character - referred to simply as Him - goes through recognisable milestones of queer confusion - a confusing childhood crush on a friend, an obligatory girlfriend, an identity crisis - before coming out at university and discovering all is not smooth sailing, even on the other side of the closet. The dominant mood here is not one of fury, but rather a relatable adolescent exasperation on the part of the narrator, a mood which stretches from late childhood through early university.
The stage, crowded with zany props, echoes the protagonist’s cluttered mind. There’s a keyboard used for brief musical interludes, and a projector, which is used for many deliberately crappy powerpoint presentations and added visuals, as well as a mid-scene costume change from an obtrusive white button-down to the aforementioned rainbow outfit.
If I have a most common critique of one-man shows (especially ones written by their performer, as Straddle was) it’s their tendency to drag in the middle, slacken into Notes app monologues. Thankfully, this is a criticism Straddle dodges entirely. Director Mina Moniri keeps the show in perpetual motion, styling its narrative out of a patchwork of vignettes and sketch show silliness. Todd is a committed and charismatic performer, who rises to meet the challenges each scene presents.
Ultimately, the quirkiness is the show’s costume, not character. If I have any frustrations, they would be that the plot has an earnest, serious plot at its heart, and the countless gags along the way muddy this. The voiceover performances of the protagonist’s family meanwhile are fine (and well acted) but entirely forgettable and arguably not necessary.
The trials the main character travels through can slip into the generic (his parent’s ignorance could be lifted from any queer teen movie of the last decade, for example). In those moments, the show feels distinctly un-autobiographical: while the personal is universal, the universal is not automatically personal. There is also professional sheen to Todd’s performance that, while impressive, doesn’t inject the piece with any further rawness.
In the places where the writing brings the necessary depth and detail, however, the piece mesmerizes. The opening scene, set in the schoolyard of the protagonist’s childhood, is tender and surprising. Where Todd shines as a performer is in conjuring up whole imagined characters solely through his reactions to them. His expressions and movements summon emotions more vividly at times than the dialogue preceding them. In these moments, I wished we could be treated to more of these grounded, immersive scenes and less direct emceeing.
Without spoiling anything, the ending feels fitting, and satisfactorily momentous, if a bit overshadowed by the sheer variety of everything that came before it. There’s a show in here, somehow both longer and leaner, that channels all its passionate, nervous, impatient energy into something fresh and tender and specific. Maybe Straddle’s run at Bread and Roses will be that show. But if not, it’s still a captivating and highly creative piece that will hold your attention and leave you wanting more, in the best way.