Written by James Ley. Sydney Festival. Bell Shakespeare The Neilson Nutshell. 16-21 Jan 2024.
Ode to Joy (How Gordon got to go to the nasty pig party) is, well, a story about love. It’s a journey of self-acceptance. That journey just happens to run through chem-sex parties, scatology, fetish-wear and Brexit. It’s like How Stella Got Her Groove Back but instead of using Taye Diggs, it uses ketamine.
Scottish Government lawyer Gordon (Lawrence Boothman) is working on Brexit legislation, exploring the effect of Brexit on the UK cultural sector, specifically LGBTQ+ culture. Gordon is the kind of guy who ends up in codependent relationships and spooning men in bed, rather than fucking them. But Gordon wants to explore. As his research opens his eyes to a world of sex he’s never tasted, he decides to take a leap. One night, at a chemsex party, Gordon meets Cumpig (Sean Connor) and his husband Manpussy (Marc Mackinnon) and goes on an adventure to the darker side of Berlin…
The Neilson Nutshell, at the Bell Shakespeare end of the Wharf is certainly getting used (and yes I mean that in a deeply sexual way). A cute moment of script mentioning Shakespeare gets a ripple of added laughter from that fact, no doubt. James Ley’s play revels in its corner of queer culture, a corner usually over-glamorised or harshly judged. Here no judgements are made, and a few necessary precautions are taken. Gordon may be uptight, but he’s on PrEP (even if he had to lie to a nurse to get a prescription).
Marc Mackinnon is a commanding presence as Manpussy, our narrator, paired with Sean Connor’s impish, Puck-like Cumpig (their real names are Tom and Marcus) who take Gordon under their wing. Lawrence Boothman’s Gordon brims with nerves and excitement as the story progresses and his alter-ego “Pig Gordon” gets to the play.
A lot of the best jokes in Ode to Joy have a UK and European specificity (mentions of Benidorm, jokes about the fetish scene in Leeds etc) that clearly went over a few people’s heads. I won’t lie, I felt ‘seen’ when Gordon daydreams about affording an apartment in the Barbican. While the language is, well, extreme (a glossary of terms is handed out at the door just in case you need it gay-splained to you), the on-stage action is more representative than realistic so have no fear.
With minimal staging, the mood is conveyed through lighting and the non-stop beats of DJ Simonotron (Hot Mess) who runs proceedings from behind his decks at the side of the stage. Some carefully chosen props keep things fun.
I found Ode to Joy hilarious. In part because I knew people like these characters from my London days, but also because of the sheer joy the characters are portraying. I was more than happy to view from the seats and be glad they were having a great time, even if I probably don’t want to join in any time soon… or indeed, have a piece of “chocolate cake” for a while.
Cultural Binge 
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