Review: After The Act
The evidence of testimonial witness is that once there was another point of view; existing beyond the critical angle of mainstream public opinion, and thus cut off. Suppressed…with force if necessary. The trick of time is always to take that which was once thought beyond the pale and veil it with incomprehension that it was ever contentious at all.
After The Act by Ellice Stevens is a piece of verbatim theatre that entwines several stories within its narrative. It begins with a group of lesbian protestors who storm the BBC 6 O’clock news on 23rd May 1988. “We have rather been invaded” utters a seemingly unperturbed Sue Lawley to the camera whilst her co-host, Nicholas Witchell, sits on a woman so that she may remain hidden from view. It is an opening that immediately endears itself to the audience, sign-posting that this unbroken play will feel significantly shorter than it’s 90 minute run time.
Breach Theatre remind a public that there was once UK legislation so heinous that it sought to figuratively push LGTQIA+ people back into the closet - and set upon them the dogs of hate. Section 28 (Clause 2A in Scotland) was on the statute books for more than a decade, stating that local authorities “shall not promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality”. It denied a generation of young adults advice on how best to navigate sexuality at a volatile time in their lives. It also barred several cohorts of teachers from offering the humanity of pastoral care, subsequently doing untold harm to a countless number of people.
“Queers in Classrooms”
“Perverts panicking parents”
Episodically told, the testimony of After The Act is successfully woven to provide the narrative of a silenced community. Set-pieces are introduced through dialogue whilst main events are regaled through song. The legislation itself is triggered by the existence of a copy of Jenny Lives with Eric and Martin within the library of an Inner London Education Authority (ILEA), portrayed by Tika Mu’tamir, EM Williams, Zachary Willis and Ellice Stevens to comic effect. The dramatic irony weighs heavy within an expectant audience, many of whom know what happens next. It is hard to hold back the tears upon witnessing gay teachers forced to deny their own sexuality whilst simultaneously bearing no witness to homosexuality in that of their charges. All to a backdrop of the AIDS pandemic.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t make an appearance?” springs a drag Margaret Thatcher. She writhes at her podium spouting eulogies to family values. The play sends her up and yet captures the former prime minister perfectly. A reminder of how strange the UK can be; that echelons of society are so easily titillated by a Caligulan nanny.
Narratively, the flow and energy of After The Act holds up very well - an achievement for verbatim theatre. The performances are exceptional and the memories of testimony live on in the memory long after leaving the auditorium.
After The Act runs at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, Aug 16th - 27th.