REVIEW: Breach Theatre: After the Act @ Corn Exchange

Review by Eric Page 

“After the Act” is a timely and compelling theatrical experience that skilfully weaves together the personal narratives of those impacted by Section 28, the notorious Conservative Government legislation that banned the “promotion” of homosexuality in schools by local authorites. It is a verbatim theatrical piece about Section 28, 35 years after the clause was voted into law, and 20 years since its repeal. Blending emotive first-hand accounts with a 1980s-inspired score, the production offers a clear-eyed examination of this dark chapter in LGBTQ+ history while retaining a joyfully camp sensibility. This show massively celebrates LGBTQ+ pride and protest, and shines a light on the devastating impact of Section 28 in schools whilst holding up to us our Queer LGBTQ+ Heroes who took direct action to protest and fight back. It also, slyly shows us – those of us who need to know, or need to remember – how easy direct protest actions, taken to defend communites or principals, can be.

Through blending the live music and the personal stories of teachers, students, and activists, the piece explores how this repressive legislation silenced a generation and fuelled LGBTQ+ resistance. From the generated moral panic that drove the law’s creation to its eventual repeal, the show offers a clear-eyed look at the political tactics used to enact anti-LGBTQ+ policies, the manipulation of political attitudes, plain ugly religious prejudice and manufactured ‘normal family’ panic which closed down early attempts at inclusion and respect for LGBTQ lives and fuelled our community’s inspiring fight for equality.

Unapologetically queer and defiantly camp, After the Act uses multimedia and emotive personal accounts to celebrate the LGBTQ+ community’s resilience in the face of state-sanctioned homophobia.

The musical’s original live score, composed and orchestrated by Frew, provides a thrumming, synth-heavy backdrop that complements the subversive and emphatic nature of the lyrics drawn directly from historical accounts.  It does start to sound a bit ‘samey’ after the first few tunes, and also – as the narrative is verbatim historical interviews sung by the cast – there’s no lyrical balance or rhyming to the ‘songs’. As Reader will know, I adore a good musical, but the music here rarely seems to indicate mood to set emotional tone or to move the narrative on, it’s heavily underscored background, but more so and overshadows the words on occasion.  There’s a final soaring crescendo at the end, with a final chord resolve, but by then, for me, it was too late.   While this is certainly a profoundly interesting piece of experimental musical theatre, it’s not a musical.  Saying that,  the vocal performances are exceptionally strong, with the cast’s harmonies and counter-melodies delivering an impressive musical cohesion. When they solo, they soar, taking the audience with them, some of these narrative interviews are harrowing, but the cast have the ability to serve a fierce indignant comedic Queer range along with tenderly reflective painful recollections of deeply hurtful trauma, which people carried with them into their adult lives. It’s a fine piece of theatre indeed which can make you laugh one second and bring you to the edge of tears the next. This quartet of highly polished actors, singers and dancers are truly impressive and push this show into a different space, as much Queer Valedictory as it is historical veneration.

A stand-out moment, both for the Act and for this theatre piece is the wobbling, thrusting, grotesque nervousness of a Mrs Thatcher, giving us an odd insight into the vulnerabilities of Thatcher which she often hid behind her Imperial Pearl Empress persona.  It opens the second act, referencing Thatchers speech to the 1987 Tory conference, where (among other horrors she said…) “Children who need to be taught to respect traditional moral values are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay. ” She then concluded, “All of those children are being cheated of a sound start in life — yes, cheated.” A startling way to open the second part of the show and firmly setting the bar for the rest of the performance, one which was effortly met by this dynamic troupe.

Full cast and creative on the touring website here: 

Choreographer Sung-Im Her’s work is a particular highlight, infusing the proceedings with a delightful sense of irony – occasionally sexy, often silly, but consistently well-executed. The use of projections by Zakk Hein is also effective in setting the historical context, without distracting from the testimonies on stage. This, by its nature, is a deeply intimate piece of theatre and in the huge spaces of the Corn Exchange it gave a curious feeling of connection with the actors sharing these historical experiences. The stage setting is part classroom, part gymnasim and things get moved around to suggest context and space, for such a light touch it works very well, although the cast are so ferociously active, and move with such energy there’s only breif moments to grasp a setting.

I left feeling thrilled by this production, warts and all, reminding us of a period in our very recent history which was horrific for LGBTQ+ communities to live through and the awesome power of direct action, planned organizational and emphatic community response to attack.  The show finishes with a clear call out of our current ‘Trans Panic’, which is an ugly echo of the divisive ‘culture war’ drive behind Section 28. The elements that contribute to fear are deconstructed and revealed in this work. While it makes the clear point that we are currently facing a comparable moral panic towards transgender individuals, it starkly demonstrates how unaware some of us are to the reassembly of these building blocks.

The packed  audience of Queers, allies and curious people gave the performers a standing ovation, and were buzzing as they tumbled out into the chilly November night. Most of us in our late 40’s and 50’s recalling our own experinces of living under these painful repressive times. Overall, After the Act is a powerful and timely theatrical experience that shines a light on a dark chapter of LGBTQ+ history while celebrating the resilience and activism of the community. It is a must-see for anyone interested in queer stories and the ongoing fight for equality, just don’t go expecting a musical.

Sat 9 Nov, 2.30pm & 7.30pm

Brighton Corn Exchange

New Road 

To book tickets see the Dome’s website

Recommended age 14+. Under 16s must be accompanied by an adult.