Premiere: Bush Theatre, London (28 July 1993)
Published by Methuen Modern Plays
Jonathan Harvey’s play Beautiful Thing is one I keep coming back to. I first read it at
secondary school (a surprisingly long time ago now!) and I adored Nikolai
Foster’s tremendous 20th Anniversary revival at the Arts Theatre a few years ago. I recently found a
dog-eared, heavily annotated copy of the script on my shelf – with all the swear words
replaced, presumably to make it acceptable to the archaic, omnipotent secondary
school sensors – and thought I’d give it another read.
Beautiful Thing is without a
doubt a seminal play about young gay love, and it is no wonder that it is still
so popular with audiences. Harvey really captures a true sense of the early
1990s, now appropriated as ‘retro’ by uber-cool Hackney hipsters. Harvey’s
characters are delightfully, sensitively drawn and their relationships are not sensationalised
resulting in a play that feels like it could be totally real but especially in
the nineties must have seemed inconceivable.
Sam Jackson, Thomas Law & Charlie Brooks in the UK tour 2015 (photo by Anton Belmonte) |
What Harvey manages to achieve in this play
is an avoidance of what have become archetypal plot lines. We don’t get the
stereotypical coming out scenes, we don’t have overpowering camp blinding us,
and we don’t have a mythical, stuff-of-wet-dreams, perfect gay couple either!
We have unapologetically real people.
I know this may seem obvious, but really it does seem so rare to see a gay
character that isn’t there for comic relief or some hackneyed coming out
storyline that this now almost 25-year-old play is still a refreshing read. I think this achievement is what makes the play
resonate with so many young people, gay or not; it is stuff young people
recognise and can relate to!
There is a great deal of hope residing in the cracks of these characters’ lives, hope for us all.
The unconditional mother-son relationship is shrewdly
observed. Neither of them is perfect – Sandra messes up just as much as any
mother trying desperately to do her best might, and Jamie isn’t always the
perfect son (is anyone?). But Harvey paints an exquisitely delicate picture of
a relationship that manages to find a way, muddling through together.
Harvey’s ear for the dialogue of rough-edged
teens and their elders caught in a habit of defensiveness and wariness is
second to none – it jumps right off the page. He captures the rhythms of the
overlapping conversations of those who spend almost too much time together
impeccably.
Harvey’s choice to set the play in the
semi-domestic realm of the landing walkway outside the flats is smart. It is a
much more interesting and versatile space than, say, a living room or something
similar. The space gives glimpses of the lives behind the front doors of the
three young characters, but these moments are earned not given away. It allows
the characters to feel at once comfortable in their shared ownership of the
space and yet still not quite in the private environs of an interior so there
is a nice tension present. Practically, it also grants a nice open playing
space that can quickly be transformed into Jamie’s bedroom.
Gerard McCarthy, Charlie Brooks & Vanessa Babirye in the UK tour 2015 (photo by Anton Belmonte) |
The final scene, underscored by Mama Cass’ Dream a Little Dream of Me – which you can hear ringing out even just reading the script – is stunningly rousing. There is a great deal of hope residing in the cracks of these characters’ lives, hope for us all that one day this story won’t be a fairytale anymore but a lived reality for young people universally.
Jack Davies and Danny Boy Hatchard in the 20th Anniversary revival at the Arts Theatre (photo by Alastair Muir) |
Buy on Amazon here.
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