‘I’m good at keeping secrets…’
Gerald Armin, who opened this wonderful theatre in 2010 with Jessica Martin in a one-woman show, now deftly directs Jessica in Ronnie Larson’s play about a mother coming to terms with her son coming out as gay; not good when you are an ultra-religious Mormon, writes Michael Holland.
From a comfy seat with only a side table, lamp, and family photos in the spotlight, Mom first talks to her God, then to us the audience, and at other times converses with Siri and Alexa as she seeks assistance setting up an account on the dating app in the play’s title.
The first half is spent giving us the family backstory: two miscarriages before her ‘beautiful’ son comes along; a Trump-voting husband with ‘anger issues’, the secrets she has to keep: she voted Democrat but told her husband otherwise; plus the truth she has to keep from her husband, such as their son being gay.
I couldn’t work out if this was an anti-religion play, anti-smartphone, or anti-gay, because there was evidence for all three. But with this sweet Mom taking us into her confidence, the predominantly gay and, probably, atheist crowd were not offended.
Alas, for an anti-religion work there was not enough mocking of the church other than the stupidity of Mom blaming her God for the life plan he had mapped out for her, when she had prayed for a heterosexual, Republican baby and he gave her a gay, Democrat, atheist (‘Maybe agnostic on a good day’, she says).
I was hoping she would come to her senses and question her beliefs but instead she joined Grindr under the pseudonym ‘Pepsi Guzzzler’ to see how her son met the love of his life. ‘That’s not a dating site like Christian Singles,’ Mom tells us, shocked with what she’d seen on her phone. It was the terminology that sent her skedaddling to Alexa for help, which created some good laughs.
It was when she began using the app to nosily see who was around for some action while queueing at the checkout that I felt uncomfortable. When she could see the men getting closer as the app told her their distance away, and were with their families, she messaged back that she would tell their wives, or ask ‘What about your children?’ Their business was not hers to judge. Her morality was skewed by religion. This worsened when she logged on from the back of the church in the middle of service and threatened to out those she recognised by their distance from her. She kept their secrets.
Yes, Grindr Mom highlights the hypocrisy of religion, but also the brainwashing their followers are put through.
Billed as a comedy, the jokes did not come fast and furious but in a way that made Jessica Martin’s character seem very naïve rather than someone with a sense of humour. I was laughing at her and not with her, while at the same time being very impressed with her performance and the script. It’s because I feel so strongly about the subject that I wanted the writer to choose a side. I wanted Mom to see the wickedness of religion and ask questions. I wanted her to be bold and brash, and deliver those punchlines like a Bitch who was going to get revenge for a wasted life living in the shadow of bad men. But no, we got mild-mannered Mom, never wanting to upset the apple cart.
And keeping those secrets shut away is my only gripe.
At least she loved her son, no matter that her church didn’t, nor the boy’s father if they ever told him the truth. But she was good at keeping secrets.
I came away feeling something, and that is precisely what theatre is supposed to do.
Waterloo East Theatre, Brad Street, London, SE1 8TN until 1st March.
Booking and full details: https://www.waterlooeast.co.uk/
