Yesterday afternoon I went to see My Son’s a Queer (But What Can You Do?) at the Ambassador’s Theatre in London glitzy West End.
A decade before selfie culture kicked in, Robert Madge was a young child ahead of the curve, demanding their family home-video every flamboyant performance they ever staged in their Coventry living room. It’s as well they did: those videos have propelled Madge (who is non-binary) via social media celebrity to their own autobiographical solo show. The videos are the early focus of My Son’s a Queer, and it can feel self-centred as Madge, a Midlands Alan Cumming in vest and pants, replays the act-outs and homespun theatrics of their youth. But in time, this childhood diva melts into the background and their loving family emerge as the stars of the show. The question here, as per Madge’s lyrics, is: “Why does it have to be a choice of just two?”
Disney buff Madge wants to wear Belle’s yellow dress but their dad buys them a Beast costume instead. In a shocking moment, their school discourages Madge’s theatricality, which “won’t help him make friends”.
What is Madge, keener on stagecraft than soccer, supposed to do? Happily for them, and advertised here by abundant footage of their infancy, the Madge family closes ranks, love-bombing this domestic impresario and show pony in the making.
A great show. Funny and poignant.