Every woman adores a Fascist, wrote Sylvia Plath.
And, apparently, it’s not just the women.
Foam by Harry McDonald presents the encounters of skinhead Nicky with a range of men, from those who aim to lure him into far right ideology, to those who are aroused by his brutal persona. (There is at least one man, however, whose attitude is closer to the only good fascist is a dead one.)
Patrick Phillips as Nicky appears in every scene and, under the direction of Gavin Roach, delivers a magnetic performance. The supporting cast of Timothy Springs, Joshua Merten and Chad Traupmann create a range of characters to populate the world around Nicky. Traupmann as the older fascist seeking recruits is suitably calm, confident and deeply disturbing, and as Nicky’s lover movingly portrays both concern and vulnerability. Merten as a gay photographer under Nicky’s spell is both charming and funny. Springs effectively creates characters who are far less enthralled by the protagonist’s antics.
Set in Britain in the 70’s and 80’s, each scene of Foam is separated from the others by several years, and apart from Nicky, the characters don’t appear to have a continuous arc. This makes for a fascinating guessing game as we figure out what has happened to the protagonist in the time between.
Each scene is set in a toilet (though not the same toilet.) And as almost every scene involves Nicky and a lover (or a potential lover), the toilet is a symbol powerfully suggestive of the simultaneous ubiquity and marginalisation of gay experience. (It wasn’t until uni that I learnt that some men met in public toilets for sex – and I learnt it from a book. I read that book not long after I’d read another that claimed to be the work of a reincarnated medieval heretic and, to my painfully narrow experience, the premise of both books seemed equally likely.)
The play is inspired by a true story, and I’m guessing the stimulus was the question How could a queer man get mixed up in far right politics? This seems as provocative as the question Why do bad things happen to good people? and deserves the same answer: Why not? (Perhaps I’m less naïve than I was at uni.) After all, out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made. (And like Kant when he wrote those lines, I’m not playing on any connotation that invites a reductionist vision of sexuality. Or, indeed, a reductionist vision of anything.)
The script doesn’t really explore why Nicky becomes a fascist. And (probably for the best) it uses the terms nazi and fascist rather vaguely and offers only a few examples of the type of violence that usually attracts those labels.
The piece is primarily about identity. Unsurprisingly, most communities develop a vision of themselves that is positive. I suspect few billionaires are of the belief that billionaires are myopically selfish. The queer community are likely to engage in the same strategy (and for much greater reason than the insanely rich.)
This play confronts us with human complexity, and that is a glorious invitation to growth. And who outgrows that?
Paul Gilchrist
Foam by Harry McDonald
presented by Gavin Roach
at the Substation, Qtopia, until 23 August
Image by Robert Catto
Theatre Red 