Transferring from the New Diorama, where it had a successful run in 2023, After the Act arrives at the Royal Court with a modern coda about the persecution of the trans community.
Section 28 of the Local Government Act was passed by the House of Lords in 1988 and finally repealed in 2003. It was a direct response to Labour-run council support for those identifying as LGBTQ, and prohibited the ‘promotion’ or ‘teaching of the acceptability’ of homosexuality.
If you were around in the 1980s, you’ll know about the climate in which this legislation existed. There was a lack of meaningful sex education, and the AIDS crisis was at its peak. Gay sex, if discussed at all, was paired with death.
Children in the playground used terms like ‘faggot’ and ‘queer’ as slurs, and religious and right-wing groups (and their representatives in Parliament) reacted with hysteria and disgust to what they deemed abnormal and a threat to children.
After the Act (which takes its title inspiration from Before the Act gala supporting gay rights and featuring a star-studded cast led by newly-out Ian McKellen) is a musical utilising verbatim material from interviews, speeches, and headlines.
It’s a busy show, created by director Billy Barrett and performer Ellice Stevens. Together with musician Frew, they unpick the timeline of Section 28 and its impact on a range of LGBTQ people.
Opening with the invasion of the BBC News studio by ‘lesbian harridans’, it goes on to cover the stories of a closeted teacher, a camp grammar school pupil, and a non-binary person subjected to conversion therapy in their teens.
It’s an important show, but I found there were issues with following the words in the musical sections due to a sound imbalance, finding myself consulting the playtext in the interval to get up to speed.
A video wall, blackboard, and other props (set by Bethany Wells, video ny Zakk Hein) allow us to see and experience material from that time and for characters to interact with them. Ian chalks obsessively; LB uses a skipping rope.
There are six people on stage. Four actors (Ellice Stevens, Ericka Posadas, Nkara Stephenson, Zachary Willis) playing numerous roles; two musicians (Frew and Calie Hough). The cast and crew offer a diverse LGBTQ perspective.
This is a funny, camp and queer production with a sense of sorrow and outrage. It is what Pride is all about, and is inspired by musical tropes of the 1980s (protest songs, and queer power).
Ending with the Manchester protest against the legislation, where 20,000 people marched on a cold day in 1988, the sense that After the Act is full of hope and defiance is clearly felt.
It’s also a warning against reactionary and knee-jerk backlash to private and legal expressions of life. Reading in the 21st century of the ‘bad influence of drag queens’ or the demonisation of trans women feels as if we are going backwards.
Breach’s devotion to verbatim and documentary theatre allows the reality to shine through, but I did feel this may have given a stronger and even more potent message in its original home.
This is a show straight people should see to understand the consequences of government interference on the lives of teenagers and young people who are growing up different and working out their identity.
On that basis, I am giving this 3.5 stars. It is an important piece, well-researched and pertinent to today. The first half is a little long, the sound issues were noticeable, but After the Act is very much ‘we’re here and we’re queer’.
After the Act continues at Royal Court Downstairs until 14 Jun with tickets here.
Image credit: Alex Brenner