Following a sold out run in 2021 as one of the first plays to open after the pandemic, writer and performer Jack Holden’s Olivier-nominated one-man show is back and it’s bigger, brighter and bolder than ever before.
Based on a phone call Holden received while working at LGBTQ+ charity Switchboard, the play is woven out of the caller Michael Spencer’s memories of his time as a young man embarking on a journey of self discovery and sexual awakening in 1980’s Soho.
Holden, whose acting credits include War Horse and Ink, skillfully evokes the hidden underworld of London’s (second?) most notorious square mile - cocktails of drugs, illicit encounters in dubious locations and hedonistic partying - while simultaneously drawing an evocative picture of the powerful reality of a marginalised community, both terrified and stoic in the face of an unspoken crisis.
Diagnosed as HIV positive and given only four years to live, Michael and his partner, “Slutty Dave”, are determined to make the most of their time left together, so they sell their flat and spend what little they have on enjoying themselves to the full. Fast forward to 1988, it’s Michael’s final night on earth and he plans to have one last hurrah.
We join him as he parties the night away, saying his goodbyes to an eclectic mix of characters with their own share of joy and tragedy: a burly, jaded drag queen ‘unfamiliar with a bic’, a cuban heeled, maroon suited fountain of wisdom, a larger-than-life barmaid and ‘Fingers’, a steadfast colleague and fellow HIV patient, all brought to life in a masterful display of physical and linguistic shapeshifting from Holden. Then, in the morning, Michael awakes to find himself very much alive. Confused, and divested of his worldly possessions, he must now work out what to do next.
Holden’s performance, directed by Bronagh Lagan, is captivating - whether he’s switching between accents, channelling his inner diva for a hysterical rendition of Peggy Lee’s Is That All There Is, or dancing what he believes to be his last dance, he will have you laughing and crying in equal measure.
The poetic script, which runs the gamut from comedic accounts of the salacious goings on in the back streets of Soho to a gut-wrenching list of men who were lost to the AIDS epidemic, takes you on an emotional rollercoaster without ever once losing its hold on your attention.
Providing the soundtrack and bringing London’s 80’s dance floors to life is composer, music producer and songwriter John Patrick Elliott. Simultaneously mixing tracks, singing and playing instruments, he creates an evolving electropop soundscape that captures the musical vibe of a decade which, alongside Prema Mehta’s clever use of lighting and juxtaposition of tense bright glares with adrenaline filled strobes, perfectly amplifies the action.
The result of extensive research, Cruise provides an authentic, if whirlwind, tour of a decade of British queer history. From its infamous pubs, pulsating nightclubs (Heaven still remains an iconic part of the city’s thriving LGBTQ nightlife), and seedy backstreets, Holden takes us on a journey that is as heart-wrenching as it is heart-warming. Both a sobering reminder of those who lost their lives to HIV as well as a celebration of a community determined to battle on in the face of adversity, Cruise is not just a play, it is a slice of history.
