Charming, witty and quietly poignant at the end, this monologue gives authentic voice to a young Jamaican Brummie man looking for emotional connection.
It’s the first play by actor Nathan Queeley-Dennis, who also performs under the light-touch direction of Dermot Daly. It has already won him the 2022 Bruntwood Prize for Playwriting and rave reviews at this year's Edinburgh Fringe.
You can see why. The script has flow and flair, and it lands a late sucker punch that gives the effervescent comedy heft. As a performer, Queeley-Dennis has charisma, an easy rapport with the audience and excellent timing.
He wrote the play because he felt Birmingham and the Midlands were – apart from the area’s most famous son, Shakespeare – under-represented in the arts. The play is a love-letter to the city, but also a celebration of men who know their worth, treat women and male friends with love and respect, and also care about moisturizing their elbows and keeping their hair sharp.
The riff about a man’s relationship with his barber – and the complicated shame of cheating on him with a “quick trim” elsewhere – resonated with me.
When we first meet Nathaniel his mum’s just consoled him over another dating disaster, where he tried to recreate the spaghetti snog from Lady and the Tramp with a girl called LaToya in Bella Italia. Already, his natural exuberance is conquering chagrin.
Within two weeks he’s back on the apps for another date and another disappointment. But an arranged rendezvous with a colleague at the call-centre he works at leads to a night of rum, truth-telling and a techno rave.
Nathan is an aspiring artist, but not precious about it. Above all he’s an enthusiast, inviting us to share the joy of a Birmingham sunrise, of fraternity and chivalry, of loving one of the many musical genres created by black people that has been subsequently appropriated.
He’s also dead funny: owls are nocturnal, so people who describe themselves as “night owls” are just “basically owls”. His impersonation of his austere, critical Jamaican dad is golden.
Just when you’re writing this 60-minute play off as a richly engaging but lightweight comedy, it changes. We get a devastating dollop of Nathaniel’s relationship with his father, and also an insight into what a life of dating apps, McJobs and grotty rented studio flats means to Gen Z on a deeper level.
This debut work is still skimpy in places but Queeley-Dennis’s authorial voice sounds fully formed. Can’t wait to see what he does next.
To 15 Dec, royalcourttheatre.com
