I have known Paul Stone for a fair few years through his drag incarnation Victoria Sponge. But as a playwright he has adapted the acid one-liners of drag and panto into a series of monologues and sketches which he’s now published as an anthology.
I recently reviewed his full length monodrama For Queen And Country when it ran at the now closed King’s Head Theatre in Islington. That was a play based on real life: the life of a British spy/drag artist. It was gripping and darkly funny.
This anthology, cheekily named No Straight White Men, shows a fascinating breadth of characterisation in miniature and all the items have been presented either in a theatre or on radio.
Like a good caricaturist he gives us a distilled essence – young women searching into their past, a drag performer hitting 50, a man who discovers a deep secret about his father. Paul’s other great trademark here is the sting in the tail, which often surprises and delights. He leads us gently down wayward paths, then lets a tree almost fall on us.
In Super (market) Maya, he portrays a check-out woman in her late 40s who tells us: “you can do the wrong thing just for a moment in times like these”. But the two-pager has a big sting to its storyline.
In The Devil Loves Silver, a gay man (Joe) confronts a bigoted barmaid, Maureen. He tells us “it was in the church I first realised I was gay. I was 11.” It’s a lovely little piece with a great comeuppance.
Christmas Stockings features Lizzy, a young woman. “My dad was the first person to tell me that Rudolph was a girl,” is its opening line. And it goes on: “I thought Christmas was all about the boys – Joseph, three wise men, the little drummer boy.” As she tells us further: ”I was born on Christmas Day. I was quite ill but nothing too serious. When the doctors told my dad his Christmas baby was in a stable condition, he laughed.” The monologue is about an absent mother and a caring father. And it ends with a huge surprise – let’s just say her father spent his whole life “not being himself.”
Mother’s Day also has a dramatic opening, as Ella (40) tells us: “I don’t like my son.” It’s a tale of an estranged father, a highly obnoxious offspring, and the fateful life of Floppy, the unwanted pet rabbit. It’s a revenge story with a sting in Floppy’s tail.
Lost Boy features Billie, a gay man and a drag act who can say things in a dress and wig he’d never get away with as a man. But it’s also about hiding, losing your true self. As he says: “for 45 minutes I disappear.” In school PE lessons the lads called him Cinderella, “as I ran away from the ball”. But the guys who like him dressed up don’t fancy him later when he’s a man. It’s a very touching piece.
It would be great if a small venue producer picked up this anthology and mounted it; I’m sure it will happen.
And the title? Paul explains: “it’s actually my first piece of advice for aspiring writers. The majority of scripts received for any call-out will focus on straight white men, so if you’ve written anything else, you’ll stand a good chance of getting to the top of pile.”
The anthology is published by Amazon, price £10
