Toxic (Qtopia)

Written by Nathaniel J Hall. Hello Darling Productions. Qtopia Substation. 20 April – 9 May, 2026.

The rise and fall of a gay couple in Manchester threads its way through Britney Spears lyrics to its demise in Toxic.

Two unnamed men, referred to only as The Writer (Patrick Phillips) and The Performer (Bash Nelson) tell a story that is autobiographical – every pill, every cock, every fist raised happened to someone, or so we are told. The Writer is HIV+, but thanks to modern medicine is now undetectable, thus untransmittable. When he finds The Performer who is negative and on Prep, they start having sex and fall into a relationship. But as time goes on, it’s clear HIV was never going to be the problem – their inner demons can do much more damage to the relationship.

As you enter the Qtopia Substation, the cast are already on stage, in character, bantering between themselves. As you wait for the performance to begin for real, you’re immersed in their rhythms and flirtatious nature. Sparks are flying. But those sparks are quickly put into context as the show starts.

We are told, repeatedly, that this is the story of how they met, fell in love, and fucked it up. This love story is doomed from the start, and writer Nathaniel J Hall wants you to know that up front. The events are lightly fictionalised but mostly they’re real. Every cock, every pill, every raised fist happened to someone. Maybe they happened to you too.

What unfolds is fairly standard “gay relationship drama”. Along the way we run through every cliché in the book – sex, drugs, threesomes, clubs, more sex, more drugs… it’s a tale so familiar it’s just not that interesting without some unique twist to the format.

And telling a U=U (Undetectable = Untransmissable), post-Prep story has promise – it opens up new avenues to explore but Toxic doesn’t seem interested in doing so. The fact that The Writer can now have sex without condoms or the fear of infecting others would have made for a more interesting story, but here it’s simply a side comment thrown aside rather than discussed. The emotional beat is quickly lost.

The Performer has his own stuff to deal with as well. As a mixed race gay man, he’s grown up under the shadow of racism with a tumultuous home life. Try as he might, he’s stuck in his own destructive patterns dealing with both internal and external issues. Is his enjoyment of minor degradation during sex connected to his history? Again, the script doesn’t venture very far in its analysis or character depth.

Thankfully the rather heavy-handed script is given real life by Phillips and Nelson, who bring genuine appeal to the story. The two performers fill in the gaps in the characters with solid work, and their chemistry smooths out the bumps in the storytelling. The occasionally slip of an accent aside, it’s thanks to their charisma that the 70 minutes of the play fly past.

But I find it hard to get past the mundane script. Slabs of backstory and exposition take the place of actual character development. A late revelation from The Writer makes no sense in the arc of the character – the lack of set up is bewildering.

I got to the end of Toxic asking myself, why is this a play? What is it saying that’s important? And the answer is – nothing at all. There is something naively narcissistic about writing an autobiographical story (Hall performed the role of The Writer in the original production) and expecting an audience to invest their time and money in your overly-familiar domestic issues. Personal confession may be cathartic for the writer, but it is not inherently dramatic for the audience.

While I can’t honestly recommend this one, it’s not the fault of the production, which does admirable work. It’s a solid production of a pointless play. Toxic just hit my gag reflex when it comes to self-indulgent writing.