Review: Cruise

In recent years, there has been growing interest in the global epidemic of HIV and AIDS. Some of the most notable pieces of work to tackle the epidemic are the TV series Pose and It’s a Sin, both of which offered unique perspectives of the crisis. One of the latest pieces of work to tackle the topic is the stage play Cruise, which was the first play to premiere on the West End when theatres reopened in 2021. After a West End revival at a larger theatre last year, it is currently having its regional premiere at HOME in Manchester.

Written by and starring Jack Holden, it is loosely inspired by his time working at the LGBTQ+ helpline Switchboard and a real-life conversation he had with a caller.

A one-man show, Holden plays a significant number of quirky characters. They are all so well-written that it’s always immediately apparent when he is stepping into the shoes of another character – even though he never actually changes shoes or clothing. He wears the same simple outfit throughout, crafting characters purely through accent and mannerisms. His ability to bring so many distinct characters to life is astonishing, especially in a 100-minute, one-act show with a 15,000-word script.

The script is a real rollercoaster. You never know where it’s going to go but it’s the most thrilling rollercoaster you’ll ever ride. You’ll never want to get off. When the play ended, I wanted to shout, “Again! Again!”

The thrilling play begins with a false protagonist: a volunteer at Switchboard. The play spends a healthy amount of time establishing this character so it is surprising when we realise that the main focus of the story is in fact the man who has rang up for support.

The man at the other end of the line, Michael Spencer, is an older gay man who survived the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Earlier on, there had been a subliminal reference to the epidemic when the volunteer told an older colleague, Kevin, that he wishes he had been born in the 80s, because of the music and fashion. “No, you don’t,” said Kevin ominously.

The play uses sound and lighting to transport the audience to the 1980s, complete with a futuristic, metallic set that looks like a camp, half-broken time machine. There’s a giant, spinning, metal, open cage-like figure in the middle, with four sides, each a different space for Holden to play with. The initial transportation had me jumping out of my skin.

Michael tells the volunteer the story of his queer birth. He moved to London like a lot of small-town queers. He lived in poverty. He had lots of hot sex. He contracted AIDS.

In 1994, he and his boyfriend were both diagnosed with the virus and given four years to live. A leap year, they realised that four years on would be 29th February 1988. After spending some time drowning in self-pity, they decide to live their lives to the fullest.

The play occasionally cuts back to the call centre, to aid with scene transitions and so we do not forget that this is a phone call brought to life – especially because, by the end of the play, we realise that the volunteer has gone on a journey of his own.

Along the way, we meet scores of eccentric characters, such as a fur-obsessed ‘lady’ with a plethora of origin stories.

The play contains countless 80s references, many of them subtle. “Not even a greengrocer’s daughter could stop us,” says Michael, referencing Thatcher. I believe there’s also a reference to British teacher and conservative activist [Mary] Whitehouse. There’s even a character called Polari, a reference to the language (or slang or cant) used in the gay subculture. I’m sure there were many other references that I, a Zoomer born in 1999, did not pick up on. These references aid in transporting us from the 2020s to the 1980s.

Cruise, wonderfully written and performed, also features some of the best designs I’ve seen (and heard) in a play. The futuristic stage design is striking, and the club-like lighting is mesmerising. However, I did find the continued use of blinding lights a bit excessive. Not only because my eyes are super sensitive, but when something is overused, it loses its intended effect and can feel like a gimmick. But mostly because my eyes are super sensitive. Moving on.

In particular, the music (composed and performed by John Patrick Elliot) is gorgeous. Elliot was playing as we entered the auditorium, getting us ready for the main event – and possibly also for a rave! The music is made up of groovy genres such as house and techno.

Music plays throughout the entirety of the play, changing sound when we travel back to the 80s.

Elliot also puts his spin on some classics, with Holden singing along beautifully. The first example of this is Patsy Cline’s ‘Crazy’, which melted this country lover’s little heart. The song plays instrumentally in the fur-loving lady’s house, with Michael telling us that she played Patsy Cline before singing the heart-wrenching outro: “I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying and I’m crazy for loving you.”

A short while later, we’re in a club. Michael tells us that somebody butchered Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’, before proceeding to demonstrate. Towards the end of the play, he gets to show off his mighty vocals by singing a song from start to finish, receiving an applause from the audience, as if we were watching a musical.

But that’s the thing: it’s difficult to categorise this play. It’s not a musical but the music is so important that it feels like its own character. I’m also not sure what genre it comes under. Drama? Thriller? Period? It also looks and feels a bit sci-fi. Holden has succeeded in creating something truly unique.

The play tackles countless issues in queer communities past and present – in hopes of making things better for queer communities to come, especially with queer hate crimes on the rise.

The play masterfully explores the younger generation’s ignorance towards (and perhaps lack of gratitude for) the struggles faced by the previous generation. Without the previous generation fighting for freedom, queer people today would not have the rights that they have.

That said, there’s also something to be said about the ignorance of “old gays”; the misogyny, biphobia and transphobia which, yes, can be seen amongst younger queer folk but are especially prevalent in older gay men.

The play, like most gay dramas (minus Pose), could perhaps take a more intersectional approach, but it never homogenises the queer experience. I am in awe over Holden’s contextualisation and comparisons between two generations of gay men. A lot of research has gone into this play – but also blood, sweat and tears.

At it’s core, Cruise is a love letter to the queer community.

Cruise runs at HOME (Theatre 1) until August 12 2023.