Beards

Beards. Image Owen Clarke

****

The Decameron meets Book of Mormon in LemonSoap’s hugely impressive musical revue, Beards. An improbable tale set in the Middle Ages about two gay couples and one immaculate conception. Cracking songs, stirring performances and some first rate singing see music by HK Ní Shioradáin, with book by director Ultan Pringle, gallop along in this hugely entertaining and irreverent production. One which, when it takes its fun seriously proves seriously funny. But once it starts taking itself seriously looses a little of the fun. As if The Life of Brian suddenly turned into a tragic opera with a Spartacus level gravitas.

For those unfamiliar with the term, a beard is someone of the opposite sex that a gay person marries, or has a relationship with, so they can pass as straight. A popular pastime during oppressive times. Of course, if a beard didn’t know they were being used as a beard it could prove problematic. No problems here though as siblings Daryl and Erica each marry the other’s lover with all living happily ever after under the one roof. Forgetting that if you want to make God laugh tell Her your plans. God clearly having other plans when Erica’s lover and Daryl’s wife, Nelly, suddenly becomes pregnant and God tells them their unborn, Janet Christ, is the Second Coming. A hard ask for atheists to swallow. So begins the search for another reason as to how Nelly became pregnant. Meanwhile Nelly and Erica have begun preaching the Queer faith to the pitchfork wielding masses. Throw in a hard to believe betrayal, a contrived fleeing, and more deaths than a rat infested plague and hope is made manifest against all odds. Well, sort of.

None of which captures the infections hilarity and wild irreverence of Beards. Ní Shioradáin’s harpsichord heavy score divided into six scenes, each showing impressive levels of musical sophistication. Ní Shioradáin’s red haired storyteller, playing live onstage, unifying the whole. Tapping into Gregorian Chant, Gospel, along with Ní Shioradáin’s unique twist on musical theatre song structures. Pringle's book a sterling piece of lyrical writing, matching rhyme, rhythm and pace to Ní Shioradáin superb score. Pringle again proving hugely impressive as director. Deftly negotiating Jack Scullion’s clever, if restrictive set; one evocative of Shakespeare’s Globe. The era echoed in Scullion’s delightfully playful costumes (I knew Crocs had been around forever) and Owen Clarke’s light design. Pringle showing brilliant compositional awareness and elicting four strong performances. Ensuring the night belongs to Sean Landau, Shane McCormick, Tierra Porter, and Orla Scally as four queers pretending to be straight, whose singing and comic timing frequently raises the roof.

Like Oliver Cromwell Is Really Very Sorry, Beards is an irreverent look at the past through the lens of the present. But it would be unfair to call it a full fledged musical given that its shift into more sobering scenes undermines its cohesion. Needing An Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life ending, one marrying humour to pathos, it descends into tragic opera and ends as a different play. Leaving Beards looking less like a musical (though there is a musical here looking to mature) but rather a musical revue. One similar to Cambridge Footlights or The Oxford Revue that launched the careers of many wacky, daring risk takers who have since become household names. As will many in LemonSoap. For most, queering a show means being camp and kitsch. So much so that everything starts to look like another episode of Ru Paul’s Drag Race. In contrast, Beards' brilliant and irreverent queering shows a surprising level of dramatic and theatrical inventiveness from so young a company. One whose towering talents far surpass the learning curve they're currently on. LemonSoap, one of the most exciting young companies in Ireland today, delivering a show of such hilarious, unholy irreverence it's practically spiritual.