THE PRIDE is playing at the Eternity as part of the Mardi Gras Festival. The word, pride, is a touchstone for the Gay and Lesbian community. Coming into general usage after the Stonewall Riots and with the first US National Pride March in 1970 it reflects both strength of purpose and a resolve to no longer feel shame. In this offering, the pride of the title is the word in its traditional context on a stage peopled with characters whose prideful choices shame them.
Initially set in a domestic, middle-class English home of the late 1950s book illustrator; Sylvia has invited her writer collaborator Oliver to dinner. The door is opened by her husband, Phillip and there is something wrong right away. Having a drink before the restaurant, Phillip is brittle and cutting and the tension between he and Sylvia is palpable even as she tries to ease the situation by babbling slightly, over explaining and speaking for both Phillip and Oliver.
As the scene shifts to a contemporary time there is a moment of echo from the future just as resonances from the past will impact on the modern characters. These people are Sylvia, Oliver and Phillip but not as we have met them. Phillip is getting out of a relationship with Oliver who is a lying, sex addicted, self-deluding arsehole who manipulates and demands complete attention from his BFF Sylvia even though she has her own life to lead.
Premiering in 2008 at the prestigious Royal Court Theatre, THE PRIDE, written by Alexi Kaye Campbell, won the Laurence Olivier Award and had a short season off Broadway. Coming out stories were popular about that time, but this play offers more than one person’s experience. Yes, things were obviously dire in times past when desperation forced men to seek psychological destruction in an attempt to rid themselves of the feelings.
But is it any better now when a ‘brandished’ dick is available whenever you want? Less guilt for the feelings but a whole new world of shameful ways to behave. Including hating your own community: The pride rally called “a field of fairies” and words like ‘mincing’ did not escape the audience. The John Inman styled character did not wash with many of us either.
Director, Shane Bosher has a firm grip on both worlds. He moves his cast in and around the centre of the sparse stage as befits an intimate story. The audio and lighting plot are equally spare and allow the story to tell itself with occasional tech to point the way.
Bosher’ early use of a storytelling chair was a good choice for the intensity of the long emotional speeches. Those monologues from the chair are where the cast excel. 50s Phillip (Simon London) in his brown, button down suit, sits stiffly on the chair to try, with clear character and throughline, to reason his way out of loneliness. 50s Oliver (Matt Minto) tells a story about Delphi and his focus and truth is in direct contrast to his diffidence. It’s a powerful moment to show who he is. The evident embarrassment of Phillip is there but beautifully directed to be quietly disruptive without destroying the scene.
Initially, there is a lot of loneliness and embarrassment in this production and it is hard to watch these people lead these surface lives. We are embarrassed for them in their embarrassment…in their silences and unspoken things. Something else that’s hard to watch is the graphic violence of a sequence near the end of Act 1. I actually had my eyes closed. There’s a warning in the foyer, best to take it seriously. That scene needs to be there though because about then it is yearning that we feel for characters. For god’s sake … act. Do. Connect.
As period Sylvia (Geraldine Hakewill) has a strong inner life as she struggles to accept what has really gone on here. Only proof is needed and her portrayal of the response to that is generous and loving at its heart. The modern Sylvia is less clear, there’s less to work with in the text and I found the modern sequences generally less satisfying, especially the story around the modern Phillip. The second act, with only one strong plot driver, felt overlong and talky as the modern story gained its climax.
The setting is spare with a Rothco-esque gray back wall and, after the initial domestic setting, individual set pieces denoting place and time. Once again the second act felt like there were too many changes, especially those done in too much light by cast not in character.
But in general terms, what this production does is send the audience away with questions and that is good theatre. For me it was: when love wounds rather than heals, is it love? Nurses will talk about ‘proud flesh’, a skin lesion which covers an injury and can be more painful that the damage. THE PRIDE puts on the stage some of the wounds the community suffered in the past but it also suggests an inherent harm in the mechanism of the healing.
THE PRIDE continues at the Eternity Theatre until 6th of March in association with the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Festival.
For more about The Pride, visit
