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Loving the alien?
RESIDENT ALIEN
New End Theatre
QUENTIN Crisp was a resident alien for most of his life; an uncompromising individual whose proudly effeminate homosexuality characterised his apparently alien “species”.
Revived for the 100th anniversary of Crisp’s birth, Resident Alien is based on the life and writings of its only character, a consummate, stylised performer.
In his filthy New York apartment, the “stately old homo” muses on life and mortality, and we, an audience of strangers, are akin to the curious admirers who have become his only companions, and whose arrival he awaits.
Crisp’s life was a one-man show, and is most aptly dramatised as such. Bette Bourne is surprisingly understated in his performance of the flamboyant camp icon.
He enters the stage
de-robed, in a dirty dressing gown, his purple-grey hair the only indicator of his distinct identity. He gradually resumes his iconic appearance, clumsily undergoing the rituals of adornment.
His soliloquy is occasionally broken when the phone rings (answered with the pronounced theatricality of his trademark “Oh ye-e-es?”), or a dead mouse is posted through his letterbox, a “gift” from his neighbour.
Bourne has perfected the intonation and timing of Crisp’s humour, with a dry, lilting sarcasm that captures the tired wisdom of experience.
Our attention is sustained by a balanced alternation of the trivial and serious; ranging from wry, acerbic observations on television, marriage and politics, to meditations on identity, loneliness and mortality.
Bourne had his audience in hysterics one moment, and in silent contemplation the next.
What could have been exaggerated theatrical camp is unexpectedly intimate and unaffected.
The play asks us not to take life too seriously, allowing us to laugh at painful truths.
For the ageing performer, it is a final toast: “To life – a funny thing that happens to you on the way to the grave.”
Until April 5
0870 033 2733 |
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