By Adam Bloodworth
Afterglow review and star rating: ★★★★
Hundreds of plays have tried to tackle the knotty, complex realities of gay dating, but few come so close as Afterglow at properly representing the challenges LGBTQ people face.
Questioning relationship ideals goes beyond queer people, of course, but all the same, LGBTQ folk face a unique set of challenges. They are statistically more likely to be lonely, for many reasons, one of which being there aren’t established templates for what queer relationships should look like. While some guys want to be promiscuous, others want a conventional monogamous set up, but as S. Asher Gelman writes in his brilliant play, the variety of opportunity can become an “illusion of choice.”
If that all sounds like a lot, rest assured that the first twenty minutes of Afterglow is basically three very attractive men completely butt naked, taking turns wrestling one another and cuddling up together in bed. This is presented as the good part of queer culture: what’s known on the scene as ‘fun,’ the hedonistic pursuit of multiple partners at the same time. And it is joyous to watch.
This lifestyle works for Peter McPherson’s Josh, who enjoys sleeping with multiple men and needs as much attention as puppies do, according to his boyfriend Alex, a confident turn by Victor Hugo. Alex would rather be monogamous, and the couple are expecting a “selfish” IVF baby, with ambitions to have a go at living the heteronormative way. That’s until Darius, played by James Nicholson, comes along, an effervescent man ten years younger who a new and exciting distraction for Josh – until he starts keeping elements of his supposedly casual relationship with Darius from Alex.
Other plays get stuck trying to find a story out of the same subject matter; they end up presenting a theme with some paper thin characterisations rather than anything believable. Gelman doesn’t reinvent the rulebook as much as just write bloody good characters. I have a friend like each of these three, people who are trying their best but end up making mistakes, either by projecting their insecurities through being overly controlling or being overly carefree and the collateral damage being that someone gets hurt.
Nicholson, Hugo and McPherson fizz are great, never compromising feeling for gratuitous nudity or sex. You could watch them get down to it for hours – and with a good 40 minutes of straight nudity, you kind of do. They’ve lots to work with: Asher Gelman’s script is fleshed with killer insight. “You can probably find a person like me who chews at the appropriate volume,” Alex spits poisonously at Josh when frays start to show.
Even when the script throws in the odd this-is-the-state-of-things line, like “there are many forms of relationships that don’t all end in marriage,” you’re so invested in the characters that it never feels didactic.
The saddest but cleverest part is how the collateral damage or one broken couple spreads down to the most financially and emotionally vulnerable of the trio, as it so often does in real life. There is pain and there is joy, much like in life. No one has got the answers, but at least this is how real gay men actually feel: live on stage.
Afterglow plays at the Southwark Playhouse until 10 February and tickets are available online
