Review: Choir Boy, Royal Court

Written for Culture Wars

Patience is not a virtue one generally associates with new writing; particularly today, given a development culture that values nimble efficiency so highly. The cry of the dramaturg – ‘Whittle. Whittle.’ – can be heard beneath every play that strains its vocabulary through a particular theme that we might spot its territory, if not its purposes from the off.

Tarell Alvin McCraney’s never been one for gut-busting slogan-heavy plays, but his latest is positively saintly. Bit by bit, scene by scene, it kneads away at its situation, adding layer upon layer and warming to its several themes.

Set in an all-black, all-boys American prep school, Choir Boy gently probes at the notion of meaning and the tension between fitting in and standing out.

At first, it looks weighed down by school-set dramas that have gone before. It takes a while for the Charles R. Drew School choristers shake off the shadow of Glee, particularly newly-elected choir leader Pharus; gay, bright and intent on turning his pariah-status into an advantage. He’s bullied by Bobby as much for the preferential treatment he’s afforded as his sexuality.

Later, there are strong echoes of Dead Poet’s Society and The History Boys, when a quietly inspirational unorthodox teacher, Mr Pendleton, turns up. McCraney finally moves into Another Country territory with the blossoming of a delicate, surprising love.

However, McCraney moves beyond archetypes and stock narratives, gently unpicking how these boys see themselves in relation to one another and to history. Overseen by David Burke’s soft-edged Pendleton, a classroom discussion on gospel music, its traditions, contemporary resonance and undercurrents of meaning is particularly intricate. McCraney manages to make every interaction thoroughly political, both within the play’s own narrative and beyond.

But it’s his storytelling that’s particularly adept. Time and again, McCraney seeds an idea two or three scenes before bringing it to fruition, allowing each plot device to bed in and become integral, before twisting the tale. By the time his whodunit arises – as Pharus is physically assaulted – he has fishy tales and red herrings lined up and waiting. A Drew boy never tells. He allows others the honour of coming clean. The second half grows is finely poised and poignant.

Dominic Cooke’s production boasts the finest young ensemble since The History Boys, too good to be dismissed as ensemble acting. Dominic Smith is a tender Machiavellian as Pharus; Khali Best a well-balanced best friend and Eric Kofi Abrefa conveys the bruises beneath the bully. Throw in some gorgeous gospel-singing and Choir Boy lets us sit back and chew on its complexities.

Photograph: Simon Kane