Body Talk

Review: Body Talk, VAULT Festival

In its exploration of male body image in the gay community, Full Disclosure’s Body Talk is a valuable addition to the VAULT Festival’s admirable commitment to LGBTQ+ storytelling.  

“There’s only one thing worse than being skinny on the gay scene – being fat”

LGBTQ+ champions Full Disclosure Theatre took on open marriages to tremendous effect with Open at last year’s VAULT Festival, so my eyes were naturally drawn to their entry into this year’s event. David Hendon’s Body Talk takes a look at the thorny issue of male body image in the gay community, asking what happens when you think you’re too skinny, or too fat, or even too hashtag instagay perfect to fit in.

We meet three men, all approaching a significant birthday and all unhappy with some aspect of their appearance, to the point where patterns of self-destructive behaviour are ruling their lives. Carl is a thin guy who is about to turn 21 but can’t stop purging; Cameron and his abs have hit half a million followers on Instagram but on the cusp of 30, he’s not sure how far to go to maintain interest; and Phil is approaching 40 by staring down the end of several bottles of wine a night and bemoaning an expanding waistline.

The first part of Chris Davis and Sam Luffman’s production is the strongest, as intertwined monologues delve into the mindset of each man, biographical detail bleeding into psychological insight, exploring how the challenges of growing up gay can shape so much of later life. Dominic Jones’ Carl, Taofique Folarin’s Cameron and Mark Philip Compton’s Phil all shine here, whether telling their own story or playing supporting roles in each other’s with wry humour.

As connections build up between the trio, the shift into straight drama is well executed, as we see those behaviours previously referred to in a real-life context. And the pursuit of the constantly unattainable is one with powerful resonance – chasing that hot guy or losing that last bit of body fat and not giving a fuck how you get there, there’s always going to be one more thing that means satisfaction proves elusive, especially in a community as notoriously harsh as (some of) the gays.

For me, I could have done without the final flourish. I can see the temptation in bringing all three stories full circle but I also feel like there’s something braver in accepting the messier state of affairs from five minutes before the end, in fully acknowledging the complexity of emotional wellbeing for any and everyone. But who am I to deny anyone their happy ending just because I got the Roland from Grange Hill reference all too easily. A valuable addition to the VAULT’s admirable commitment to LGBTQ+ storytelling. 

— Ian Foster - Oughttobeclowns.com

Body Talk at the Vault Festival:

Press night review ★★★★★

The Vault Festival proudly announces on their programme ‘London’s boldest and wildest arts festival’ and that remark gets a very firm thumbs up from me especially as the organisers and producers have made the LGBTQI+ content larger and larger each year, giving actors and writers a valuable platform to perform their work on. One of these new plays is David Hendon’s superb Body Talk. 

A cast of three – Mark Philip Compton as Phil, Taofique Folarin as Cameron and lastly Dominic Jones as Carl – are perfectly matched offering erudite takes on their roles, linked to their respective temperaments, style, posture, body language, physical and facial attributes.

The execution of their craft when they delivery their own monologues or when they overlap is stunning. The subject matter of the play is garnering headlines and press attention where the pressure to socially confirm and to be accepted by your peers is having at times disastrous effects. 

The three actors give cathartic performances and are prepared ‘to go there’ to reinforce the message at the heart of Hendon’s magical work. The three of them equally share the spotlight as the themes focus on hiding behind a mask, coming of age, sexual desire and awakening, homophobia out of ignorance, school bullying, anorexia, bulimia, the lack of self worth and self esteem or even vanity – and how to be flavour of the month in today’s social media whirlwind. 

As everything is based on the the number of likes you have on your Facebook, Twitter or Instagram account, the desire to make your fifteen minutes of fame last as long as possible is overwhelming, a point that Hendon makes rather well.

Body Talk also looks at manipulation, trolling, hacking and even betrayal via social media. To go viral can be vile. This is a very fine ensemble piece which also looks at re-inventing yourself, and that everyone deserves a chance to be a star if given the right break. 

The finale when the three of them as pals take a selfie is moving and so apt. This is ground-breaking riveting modern theatre and a very competent look at the gay male executed by directors Chris Davis and Sam Luffman who get out of the three actors wonderful and extremely watchable performances with them being totally in their respective  zones.

— Stephen Vowles - Boyz.co.uk

Body Talk : The Odd Throuple find each other -

★★★★

Body Talk opens with three semi naked bodies standing on stage. Before the story starts their bodies are already telling tales on them. Those stories hang in the air around them like the worst kind of gossip even before we hear a word of DAVID HENDON’S witty dialogue. 

There is the 21 year old twink, Carl (DOMINIC JONES). All elbows, cheekbones and hip jutting like an exclamation point. Stood with wrists like a weeping willow, apologizing for the space he takes up.  

There is the 30 year old Instahunk, Cameron (TAOFIQUE FOLARIN). Expectantly robed in muscle, phone ever ready to take a selfie, demanding every eye and camera in the room to turn towards him.  

And there is the 40 year old bear Phil (MARK PHILIP COMPTON) unwilling to make any effort as he impatiently waits to be ignored, ready to dive back into his most comfortable t shirt as soon as he can.  

The types are obvious but the actors breathe their own character into them. Jones is gawkily arch and funny with a vulnerability that begs a hug. Folarin is able to reveal the scaffolding behind the façade with the lift of an eyebrow. Compton manages to be knowingly foolish. 

They all have their own story of how they got to be where and who they are. Whether it was bullies that made them want to evaporate into the air, or a body flaw that they sought to hide, or an inability to accept love when it was offered, what they share is that their current bodies were all born out of a painful past.  

All three have an entertaining back story. Clever direction from CHRIS DAVIS and Sam Luffman means that every actor gets to step out of their own stereotype by performing a different supporting role as each tells their personal story. So gawky twink becomes hot dance floor stud when the hunk has his first night with a man. It’s just enough playfulness to overcome the artificiality of the three deliberately different guys coming together in one story. 

Each of them is bullied in their own way, whether it is in person, online or through self image. They struggle with who they are because of who they think they are supposed to be. Growing up they had rules about being straight men that did not apply, now they are surrounded by rules about being a gay man that are also not working for them. 

Despite the harsh topics of bulimia, alcoholism and online shaming there is plenty of laughter. After banging one guy against a wardrobe Phil points out that despite the guy claiming he was not gay he was literally clinging on to the closet “It’s so ironic I could be shagging Alanis Morissette” 

As the characters work through their issues Body Talk becomes a lesson of self-acceptance and empathy towards others in an age where it’s becoming even easier to judge people through just their image. If that’s not ringing a bell for anyone we really do need to get Big Ben back in commission very soon.  

— Andrew Hebden - Queerguru

Review: Grace Bouchard

CW: eating disorders, body dismorphia

Within the first few lines we are promised “fully clothed catharsis”, and for Cameron, Carl, and Phil, this can’t come soon enough. The topics of masculinity and body image within the gay community are rife with misconception and misunderstanding, not least because for decades no one has talked openly about them. Now, in the age of Grindr and Instagram, where men are bombarded with images of washboard abs and profile bios loudly declaring “no fats, no femmes, no Asians”, it’s understandable that gay men are struggling under the weight of the pressure they put on each other and themselves. Cameron, Carl, and Phil want that to change.

As we enter the space, we are met by our three protagonists standing topless on stage, eyeing us up or staring towards the ground. At this point, it is difficult to see what these three men could possibly have in common. Their bodies are very different – one young, tall and skinny, one older and larger, and one so toned you’d not be blamed for thinking he was straight out of the Love Island villa. With each monologue we delve deeper into the root of their issues, baring their souls it takes time to peel off the layers but once we get going, we discover stories of internalised homophobia, shame and spiralling out of control.

Dominic Jones’ characterisation sparkles with self-depricating humour and uncertainty – everything sounds like a question with Carl. But as the character is a gay, twenty-year-old with Bulimia, it’s easy to understand why he might not feel sure of himself. Mark Philip Compton and Taofique Folarin’s performances are equally engaging and assured; the camaraderie between the performers on stage is a joy to watch.  All of the actors  entertainingly multi-role in the narrative pieces of the others; Full Disclosure have created an ensemble piece that weaves the characters’ lives together with the sensitivity and playfulness that these subjects require. David Hendon’s detailed script is littered with cultural references for both younger and older audiences, making fun at/with both. He manages to cover an impressive range of issues without making it feel like they have been shoehorned in, and the cast deliver them beautifully.

The play sums itself up nicely towards the end. As we sit lights up on the characters in front of us, Phil reflects that as a gay man: “It’s meant to feel like a community, but it doesn’t always feel like that.” Body Talk will hopefully begin to combat just this, as perhaps the only way to achieve the catharsis we need is simply to talk about our bodies.

Body Talk runs through 2 February.

— Grace Bouchard - theplaysthethinguk.com