…tonnes of heart, and underlying it all, a masterful grasp of the playwright’s arts.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
📍Summerhall – Demonstration Room
📅 Aug 3-14, 16-21, 23-28
🕖 6:20pm
🕖 Running time (approx.): 1 hour
👥 Written & Directed by: James Ley
👥Music by: DJ Simonotron
🎬 Producers: Stories Untold Productions
💰 From £10 (Preview), £12.00 Thereafter
🎂 18+
🎭 Wheelchair Accessible Venue, Captioned
Gordon (Brian Evans), one lawyer amongst many to the Scottish government, fears he’s terminally dull. Curious, but pathologically uncertain of his place amongst the more cum-soaked realms of LGTQ culture, he conceives an alter-ego ‘Pig-Gordon‘, an avatar with which to dip his toes in the water.
Now our Gordon is far too shy to relate his own story, and so narration is instead left to Manpussy (Marc Mackinnon), magnificent adept of bodily hedonism. First encountered on Gordon’s first, and potentially only visit to a Chemsex party in Edinburgh, Manpussy and his husband Cumpig (Sean Connor) are drawn into Gordon’s journey, the wanton fairy-godparents to Gordon’s Cinderella.
Ley’s absolutely magical gift with dialogue is writ large across Ode to Joy. Each character speaks with their own voice, their own thoughts, and the sparks flying from their intersection scintillate with the same quality of a prime Aaron Sorkin. Ley makes fabulous storytellers of his entire cast, who move in and out from dramatized scenes, introspection, and arresting drama without a single crack showing. Yes, Ode to Joy is continually, and deliciously laugh-out-loud funny, but it has tonnes of heart, and underlying it all, a masterful grasp of the playwright’s arts.
Of course no Cinders can be without a ball to go to, and in this case it’s Europe’s largest gay-sex party which beckons. Careering into full blown self-identity crisis, Gordon views the party with both fear, and anticipation. Losing himself in that sea of sexual abandon would mean something, would stamp his evolution into something new, wouldn’t it?
Mackinnon is unquestionably the star of the show. Given the lion’s share of the exposition, and narrative stitching of the show, he visibly brims with charisma. It’s a majestic performance by an actor with a gift for the spoken word, and a stand-up’s timing.
Fortunately neither Evans, nor Connor show any weakness before this grand performance, each realising their character with wit, charm, and complete investment. Evans ultimately has to close the show, it’s his story after all, and he doesn’t fumble that slippery ball in the slightest. Connor is the heart of the show in many ways, a flawed, self-destructive, but incredibly endearing human being.
Credit is also due to DJ Simonotron, whose live set of pulsing electro/dance beats form a constantly evolving, and responsive soundtrack. His set is the beating heart of this sensitive, rip-roaring play.
James Ley’s Wilf is also playing this year’s Fringe, The QR saw Wilf on a previous outing, and loved that too unsurprisingly.
The show also comes with a handy summary sheet for attendees, just so you can keep up with the terminology of a world in which not all move. Those who think they might struggle to parse the pharmaceutical and corporeal slang, there’s no excuse. For those who think anonymous sex-pig frequenting, drug-fuelled bacchanalia aren’t quite the basis for a play you’d enjoy, think again. You might not want to partake of any, or all on show, but in the final reckoning this is a fine, meaningful, heart-filled comedy. I dare you not to laugh your pants off.
(Image Credit: James Ley on Twitter)
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