Interview: Inside ‘(We indulge in) a bit of roll play’ at Glasgow’s Tramway

“He needs a bit of a kick up the ass, which, don’t we all?”

The line belongs to Robert Softley Gale, Artistic Director of Birds of Paradise (BOP) Theatre Company, but it might as well be the manifesto for their latest, most provocative production. (We indulge in) a bit of roll play, arriving at Glasgow’s Tramway this February, isn’t just a play about disability. It is a raucous, messy, and unapologetic reclamation of the right to be seen as a sexual being.

For over thirty years, BOP has been Scotland’s preeminent disability-led theatre company. They have long challenged the status quo, but with this new work, the gloves are off. The company is pivoting from making narratives “palatable” for non-disabled audiences to something far more visceral. The goal isn’t just to educate or entertain; it is to confront the very nature of autonomy itself.

The Trap of Comedy

The play introduces us to Ben (Ed Larkin), a young disabled man navigating the universal trifecta of early adulthood: overbearing parents, university deadlines, and the clumsy complexities of a “sometimes” girlfriend. At first glance, it reads as a sharp domestic comedy. But co-writer Hana Pascal Keegan reveals that the humor is deployed as a tactical weapon.

“The arc of the piece is similar to meeting someone who is initially more jokey, and then, as you get to know them, they begin to open up and share their vulnerabilities,” Keegan explains. “For me, the key is that all of the comedy comes from deep, character-led intentions and tactics.”

**Robert Softley Gale, My Left Right Foot rehearsals, 2019, photography by Tommy Ga Ken Wan**

Keegan argues that the strongest comedy is rooted in serious themes because it disarms the viewer. “It catches the audience off guard: they laugh and then question ‘oh, what did I just laugh at?’” This creates a moment of friction where the audience must reconcile their amusement with their own biases about disabled bodies. “It allows us to say things we might struggle to express in a more direct or straightforward way.”

“The arc of the piece is similar to meeting someone who is initially more jokey, and then, as you get to know them, they begin to open up and share their vulnerabilities,” Keegan explains.

Her co-writer, Gabriella Sloss, agrees that removing the humor would be a move toward dishonesty. “There are so many aspects to sex and sexuality that just are inherently hilarious,” Sloss notes. “I think that we really wanted to capture those elements, whilst also being mindful and sensitive to the more serious aspects.”

Hovering in the Doc: The Writer’s Room

Creating a world that balances the claustrophobia of a bedroom with the cosmic influence of a deity required a fluid, almost chaotic writing process. The script is the product of three distinct voices—Keegan, Sloss, and Softley Gale—who operated as a collaborative unit, often writing simultaneously in the digital ether.

“The majority of the co-writing was done remotely… often hovering over one another in the Google Docs!” Sloss says. It paints a picture of a modern, frantic creative process—cursors dancing around each other in real-time. “Almost immediately… we could quite clearly identify each writers’ strengths and where they most shine.”

**BOP (We indulge in) a bit of roll play Rehearsals – image by Mihaela Bodlovic**

Rather than carving up the script by character or scene, the trio allowed the work to bleed together. “We’d often write scenes individually and then share them, adding comments to each other’s work,” adds Keegan. “Rob’s leadership also helped us figure out which elements of the script each of us should focus on.” The result is a text that feels cohesive yet multifaceted, mirroring the complex internal life of its protagonist.

Enter the ‘CripGod’

Central to Ben’s evolution is the presence of “CripGod,” played by the formidable British comedian and writer Rosie Jones. Far from a silent observer, CripGod is an “ethereal guide” occupying the space between narrator and instigator.

“The character is very much there to serve as a guide for Ben, as someone who forces him to confront things in a way that’s coming from another disabled person,” says Softley Gale. The concept draws inspiration from William Horwood’s 1980s novel Skallagrigg, reimagining the idea of a “guiding force” for the modern stage.

“It’s not non-disabled people telling disabled people what to do,” Softley Gale emphasizes. “CripGod is definitely not an impartial observer but she’s making things happen because she identifies that that is what Ben needs in that moment.”

The Freedom of the Un-Recorded Moment

To ensure the production’s “unmediated desires” were handled with professional rigor, BOP enlisted Vanessa Coffey, an Intimacy Coordinator known for her work on high-stakes screen dramas like House of the Dragon and Outlander. While the transition from the closed sets of HBO to the “every angle” exposure of live theatre presented challenges, Coffey highlights a surprising freedom in the ephemeral nature of the stage.

“Live performance happens and then it lives on only in the minds of the audience and that’s a beautiful thing,” Coffey observes. “Nobody reviewing minute angles and looking so closely at the actors’ bodies and replaying things over offers great freedoms.”

In film, intimacy is scrutinized, looped, and immortalized. On the Tramway stage, it is a shared, fleeting experience. However, the “open set” nature of theatre means there is nowhere to hide. “In live performance, an audience can see everything from every angle so it’s much less contained,” she admits.

BOP’s commitment to “Creative Access”—including BSL interpretation and audio description—adds layers of complexity to the intimacy. “Making a show truly accessible means there’s a lot more work and a lot more people who need to see and experience moments of vulnerability on the stage before it ever goes to a live audience,” says Coffey. Yet, she notes that the disability-led environment fosters a unique openness. “Conversations are entirely normal around what is okay/possible… I find that people who have disabilities themselves are often far more comfortable to ask what others would consider difficult questions around access or how someone else’s body works.”

The Erotic Imagination and the Political Landscape

The production expands beyond the domestic sphere through an ensemble of performance artists, utilizing burlesque and clowning—forms “deeply rooted in transgressive expression”—to externalize Ben’s internal world.

“The biggest sexual organ is the brain,” notes Associate Artist Anne Kjær. “We felt we needed to add performers working in various disciplines to address the people and the worlds that exist in the imagination of someone like Ben.”

“Making a show truly accessible means there’s a lot more work and a lot more people who need to see and experience moments of vulnerability on the stage before it ever goes to a live audience,” says Coffey.

This artistic boldness is set against a stark political backdrop. Softley Gale is candid about the fact that the conversation around disability in Scotland is not a linear progression. “The conversation around disability in Scotland has shifted… in some ways forward and some ways back,” he says. “There’s so much narrative around ‘benefit scroungers’ and people trying to cheat the system—all of that is obviously not helpful.”

In this climate, roll play becomes an act of resistance. By presenting a disabled character who is a sexual partner, a boyfriend, and a complex human being, BOP challenges the flattened, sanitized narratives often imposed by society. “We need to keep guiding the narrative so that it shows how complex disabled people are,” Softley Gale urges.

The Right to Risk

The production is, at its heart, about the right to stop asking for permission. It is about the right to fail, to experiment, and to take risks without the “well-meaning” intervention of the non-disabled world.

“I’m aware that in my own work we try to make things easy for the non-disabled audience sometimes… we make it more palatable by making it less confrontational,” admits Softley Gale. “I think with this show… it is about saying we don’t need to be as palatable now as we used to be. We can be a bit more upfront.”

For the team at Birds of Paradise, the “messiness” of the story is its greatest strength. As the production prepares to open, the core message remains one of agency—specifically, the agency to make mistakes.

As Associate Artist Anne Kjær puts it:

“Life and intimate relationships are inherently risky and messy. Having agency in an intimate context is also about having the right to choose what level of risk you’re comfortable with and often that choice is taken away from disabled people by others—often well-meaning carers, medical professionals and loved ones—who end up deciding what risks are appropriate for the disabled person.”

Featured Image: (We indulge in) a bit of roll play – design by Laura Whitehouse