Let me say this up front: producer Peter Bull and the creative team behind Grindr: The Opera have a lifelong 5-star hit on their hands – of that I am 100% certain.
This is a musical about the oldest game but as arch villain Grindr (Christian Lunn) tells us: ”the rules are new”. Sitting in the compact Union Theatre in Southwark we’re faced with a steep central ramp, surrounded by Gothic pillars and back-projected stained glass windows as an ominous bell tolls. Designer David Shields, as always, makes much of very simple effects.
This is the domain of Grindr himself – Lunn towers over the scenes he manipulates – bare chested with tight leather corset, skirt, high heeled boots and a black feather collar: he’s scary and erotically attractive at the same time.
The storyline brings together four punters of the hook-up app, who are coaxed and supported by Grindr’s two deliciously attractive acolytes, played by James Aymon and Grant Jackson, sporting see-through tops and sparkly hot pants. What creator Erik Ransom and director/choreographer William Spencer give us is a wonderfully created epic, erotic, funny, sad, over-the-top show about sexual desires, denial, lies, love and abuse.
Christian Lunn, fresh from a European tour as Riff Raff in Rocky Horror, holds our attention from start to finish, with his malevolent smile but more importantly he has a stunning high-flying operatic singing voice – he’s truly sensational. He exudes sex, anger, greed and sheer evil – it’s delicious.
The four punters have well-delineated characters: Dereck Walker is Don, a Thatcherite businessman who has a wife and kids but dabbles in the queer sex kingdom. He is in denial, at times sadistic and thoroughly unlikeable. Santino Zapico is Devon, a sex-clinic doctor who finds true love via Grindr – well for a time anyway. Billy J Vale is a cute, endearing man who finds love, but can’t avoid the lure of returning to the app for a bit of variety. James Lowrie is an easy-going exhibitionist who comes seriously unstuck.
Like the best Greek drama or European opera, there are startling coincidences that lead to unforeseeen circumstances – no better depicted than in the highly operatic aria What Fresh Hell – where the punters’ lives all intertwine and unravel.
In a show where even ‘push alerts’ has a sexual connotation, the highly eclectic mix of musical styles works brilliantly. MD and orchestrator Aaron Clingham leads a small band of piano, flute, clarinet alto sax, cello and percussion. It’s a stunning combination that would be worthy of any West End orchestra pit.
Though the lyrics and action leave nothing to the imagination, it’s actually a very moral tale. Catch it if you can – it runs until 8 July, but I’m certain it will run and run somewhere in the world for many years to come.
Tickets HERE
