Organised singing and ideas of masculinity may not usually go hand in hand, but in Tarell Alvin McCraney’s newest offering at the Royal Court, they do just that.
Set in the Charles R Drew all-black American prep school, precocious Pharus is determined to make school history and sing the school’s song at graduation two years in a row. But in a world where tradition and rituals rule, being an openly gay God-fearing teenager who can’t help but add Mariah Carey trills into every choir number means making your mark sometimes requires ruthless methods.
But this is no normal school and brotherhood comes before all else, meaning for the most part Pharus is backed-up by his choir comrades, who, like other school dramas before this, each fit into the conventional schoolboy roles; the jock, the peacemaker and the bully – in this case, the abusive, but ultimately naive Bobby.
Nor has McCraney written your traditional sympathetic lead. Pharus, with his twinkling eyes, perfect teeth and dimples, may look like he’s stepped out of High School Musical, but his manipulative, smug interactions with his fellow students and fairly useless headmaster leave the audience with little admiration for the boy. As tensions build with the macho Bobby from the very outset, his eventual fate, however, begs more sympathy.
Directed stylishly by Dominic Cooke and staged in an intimidatingly intimate set by Ultz, which has the audience sitting alongside the Drew boys, the beams of the Royal Court’s Upstairs space merging seamlessly into the traditional wooden panelling of the school’s hallowed halls, the real achievement of the piece is the casting. It not only places, in many cases, real teenagers on stage to portray these hormonally explosive characters, but also finds ones that cannot only act but, more importantly, sing.
Because while McCraney’s play lives up to its promise to explore the politics of minority and masculinity, it also takes us on a musical journey with the cast executing perfect harmonies and incredible gospel performances in goose pimple-inducing scenes and stylish scene changes.
Dominic Smith leads the charge as the butter wouldn’t melt, effeminate, but tough as nails Pharus, impressing with a deliberately irritating performance. Eric Kofi Abrefa is explosive as Bobby, whose racial and homophobic slurs are the only things that fall easily from his tongue with confidence, the boy clearly harbouring a destructive jealousy towards the naturally eloquent and intellectually superior Pharus. On the slightly older scale, David Burke also deserves a mention for his understated portrayal as the doddery corduroy-wearing Mr Pendleton, the actor’s naturalistic performance so convincing you almost believe he genuinely has no clue as to what he’s meant to say next.
Choir Boy may not always be entirely believable, but the accomplished performances bridge any gaps in reality in McCraney’s script and it’s worth the ticket price alone just to hear the cast perform Musical Director Colin Vassell’s sensational arrangements.