Instead William meets Richard Arnold (Daniel Krikler,) a sailor on shore leave until Boxing Day, who invites him to a dance soirée where they might meet girls. But it's obvious from the start that it's each other they're most interested in flirting with.
Paul Foster's production keeps things simple and lets the story tell itself on Andrew Exeter's wooden platform set, that evokes the docks with packing crates that get used as furniture, and is overhung by a wooden frame bearing the two men's names, and the location and dates the (true) events took place. It means the 18th century setting (which Martin Hanly's costumes suggest in a slightly off-kilter, dreamlike way) is always in the audience's eyeline. Along with early references to two men in a nearby town recently hanged for sodomy, it's a constant reminder that this is a time when Richard and William's relationship is a dangerous one.
But Gage and Krikler have incredible chemistry together so it's easy to see how they might risk it, and in the first act especially Gage as writer is interested in really pursuing the joy and excitement of their relationship. So we get a fun, slightly combative and modern flirtation as the educated Richard and self-taught William compete over who knows the most trivia, before the pair give in to their mutual attraction.
Inevitably the second act goes to a much darker place, as what the local pub landlord (Adrian Hansel) thinks he saw in a cave during a storm becomes if not quite a witch-hunt, then something very close to it, and shows how little it takes for the town's moral outrage and disgust to turn them on one of their own. There's a great supporting turn from Jess Douglas-Welsh as William's sister Abigail, who despite the family scandal meaning her own engagement to Arthur (Joseph Peacock) gets called off starts to question what's so bad about what her brother's done; and little glimmers of hope in characters like Georgie (Melissa Jacques,) who secretly helps out the beleaguered family.
Throughout the show holds onto the sense of humour that largely defined the first act - Gage gives a lot of the best lines to the mother, and as was the case ever since her Avenue Q days Lock continues to be stronger at the comedy side of things than the drama, but pretty much everyone in the ensemble gets their moment to shine, both vocally and comically. There's also a few knowing nods to the genre itself (“We don’t need a reprise.”)
Phill is hardly the most restrained of my regular theatre companions at the best of times but I don't think I've ever seen him quite as effusive after a show than after Redcliffe, in fact pointing out how many of my regular gripes about theatre the show avoided: There's the aforementioned changes in tone that stop the evening from becoming monotonous once events take a darker turn, and the book is tightly plotted, even providing a minor twist at the end that's been properly seeded throughout, and among the most impressive elements is the way this manages to make an uplifting ending out of something that you'd expect to leave a bad taste in the mouth.
Musically it's tuneful and memorable, not particularly groundbreaking and taking some inspiration from Pasek and Paul in particular - just about the biggest criticism I can make of the show is that "A Million Things I Know" is a bit too obviously derivative of "First Date/Last Night" from Dogfight. But there's also a rousing romantic duet in "Never Getting Rid of Me" along with a few subtler riffs on other songs, plus an incredibly dark but boisterous number from the local newspaper magnate (Steven Serlin) and the ensemble in praise of the hangman, which has a direct line to present-day media choosing violence and hatred for engagement.
It's great timing that the team have managed to get this into Southwark Playhouse for Pride month as it's a perfect distillation of what that means - a combination of respectful memorial to those discriminated against in the past, angry protest at the injustices still going on, including a dozen countries where homosexuality is still a capital offence, and genuinely joyous celebration of queer love. It's also sexy as hell, funny, moving, and highly recommended.
Redcliffe by Jordan Luke Gage is booking until the 4th of July at Southwark Playhouse Borough's Large Theatre.
Running time: 2 hours 35 minutes including interval.
Photo credit: Pamela Raith.








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