Yesterday
I told a slightly sceptical friend, who worked in the original
Masquerade Club, that I was going to the press night of Laura Lees’ new
play ‘Masquerade’. He said that if the omnipresent manager wasn’t
swishing about with trays of sandwiches teetering on his hand, then it
wouldn’t be authentic. He needn’t have worried.
Lees
(whose day-job is in the Royal Court’s Box Office) has grown the play
from the recollections of her uncle Mike, who for a time worked as a DJ
in the iconic Liverpool venue. To be clear, we’re talking here about the
original incarnation of The Masquerade which stood on a part of Cases
Street now submerged under the Boots store in Clayton Square. The story
follows Mike as he tries to reconcile his sexual identity with the world
around him, and to find a place and a community where he can feel at
home.
Like so many LGBT people
coming out in the 1980s, Mike nervously eases his closet door open to
discover a world terrified of the AIDS epidemic staring him in the face.
It’s in the Masquerade that he finds a safe haven, and more besides.
Along with his party-animal friend Tony he makes a second home in the
club, where he falls for the glamorous Stuart.
But
the voice of John Hurt delivering the government’s brutal ‘Don’t Die of
Ignorance’ message reminds us of the spectre that looms over party.
Against this background of a fear campaigns, Mike graduates from calling
bingo to taking over from an absent DJ, soon becoming the focus of the
place he’s grown to love. He can’t imagine the tragedy that will soon
strike the heart of his new-found family.
Roy
Brandon and Eithne Browne are the life-blood of the club as the owner
Frank and his stalwart bartender Norma. Frank’s hair drips the boot
polish used to keep it black (think Dirk Bogarde in Death in Venice) and
he does indeed drift about with the sandwiches, although there is
something perplexingly starched about his delivery. Another Royal Court
favourite Julie Glover puts in an understatedly dignified performance in
the small but important role of Tony’s mum.
Adam
McCoy and Daniel Waterhouse both give strong performances as Tony and
Stuart, and both Lees’ writing for them and their treatment of it ensure
that their characters, albeit flamboyant, never fall foul of becoming
stereotypes. The biggest surprise of the evening (although probably not
to the producers) is an exceptionally distinguished stage debut from
Jamie Peacock as Mike. He is yet to begin his acting degree course at
LIPA this autumn, and is surely a talent to watch out for. This is a
challenging, vulnerable and brave role to launch a career, and Peacock
carries it off with beautiful subtlety.
Whilst
the show could do with tightening somewhat in pace, director Paul
Goetzee holds his cast together in close ensemble and uses the space of
the studio well, to make the cabaret style seating feel like part of the
set.
Lees’ narrative certainly
stirs very vivid memories for those of us who grew up gay in the 70s and
80s, but it’s not just about the nostalgia. She also creates an
entertaining piece of theatre that documents an important and pivotal
period in the growing up of the LGBT community, as it fought its way
through events that threatened to shut it back in its closet for good.
This should be staple fare for anyone joining this week’s Pride in
Liverpool.
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| Jamie Peacock and Julie Glover |
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| Jamie Peacock and Adam McCoy |
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| Eithne Browne and Daniel Waterhouse |
Pictures (c) Royal Court Liverpool
Star Rating: Four Stars
This review was originally written for and published by Good News Liverpool
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