'Quentin Crisp' comes to Above The Arts for one night only on 2nd July 2017. This review is of the 2014 run.
With erratic vowels, voguing limbs and purple toupee, Mark Farrelly’s embodiment of the twentieth century’s most defiant homosexual is an uncanny feat of resurrection – and his play a delicious celebration of self-definition and strident peculiarity.
Farrelly takes Quentin Crisp from thumbing his nose at his father in childhood, through years of poverty and infamy to his assumption of his rightful podium on the New York stage. His script is littered with glittery paradoxes and witticisms, which delicately excavate Crisp’s character without ever quite robbing the sphinx of his secret.
Skilfully directed by Linda Marlowe, Farrelly is at his best in early biographical scenes, guiding us through the tantalising cubbyholes of Soho or the meaner streets of a Britain viciously intolerant of Crisp’s sexuality and flamboyance. Every anecdote lands with a brilliant barb, as Crisp ascends from rent-boy to ‘one of the stately homos of England’. His refusal to comply with gay liberation and pride movements is only briefly referenced, as if to allow it too much weight or significance would be a betrayal of Crisp’s character and attitudes.
There’s a notable dip in the second half, as Farrelly jumps forwards in time to one of Crisp’s final ‘audiences’ with his adoring American public, as his topics of conversation sway towards self-help platitudes and foggy religious noodling. Quentin Crisp is fascinating on the subject of Quentin Crisp, but he seems to be rather a bore on metaphysics.
Fortunately, Farrelly’s mastery of his audience is total, taking full advantage of their intimate proximity in the St James’s cabaret bar-style studio with acid asides and some gorgeous moments of interactivity. There are times when the script could be a little crisper, but it’s all utterly, delightfully Quentin.