Sound of the Underground, Royal Court Theatre review ★★★★★

After personalising the physical and verbal abuse experienced by trans people with their 2019 show Burgerz, and then taking audiences into a nightclub loo cubicle to share the experiences of a trans woman being hounded from outside with their excellent 2020 show Overflow, writer and performance artist Travis Alabanza has again teamed up with director (and here, co-creator) Debbie Hannah to bring underground queer culture into the main auditorium of the Royal Court with Sound of the Underground.

Disruptive political theatre meets variety performance in Alabanza’s show, which takes audiences through the LGBTQ+ performance landscape, charting the history and demolishing of queer spaces, the costs and safety concerns for performers, and the dangers of fetishising drag performers at, say, a cis, straight boozy brunch. While a little rough around the edges, it’s a clever fusion of spectacle, comedy and hard-hitting facts.

Sound of the Underground. Photo: Helen Murray

Instead of working with straight-up actors, Alabanza has employed eight characters from the London drag circuit, who perform mainly under their stage identities. Before the curtain rises, the performers spill out into the audience, sashaying between the seats and tearing up what may or may not be a script, while the show’s namesake, Girls Aloud’s 2002 hit Sound of the Underground, plays overhead. We’re introduced to CHIYO, Lilly SnatchDragon, Ms Sharon Le Grand, Mwice Kavindele as Sadie Sinner the Songbird, Rhys Hollis as Rhys’ Pieces, Sue Gives A F*ck, Tammy Reynolds as Midgitte Bardot and Wet Mess.

Much is made over what these performers have given up to take part in the show. They’re getting paid only £600 a week, which works out as £75 per performance. It’s clearly not enough – especially when you see the energy that goes into the show and the emotional labour spent on telling their stories – but it’s cringeworthy nonetheless when donation buckets and QR codes connected to card readers get passed around the audience so early in the narrative.

Sound of the Underground. Photo: Helen Murray

The play is slow to get off the ground too, but sit patiently through an aimless scene involving slow-motion tea pouring and things start to take off when the drag stars, and through them Alabanza, reveal their common enemy: American drag queen RuPaul of the internationally televised reality show RuPaul's Drag Race. Cue an inspired scene where the cast line up at a makeshift barrack and envision attacking their enemy, guilty of homogenising and commercialising an artform that by its very nature should be subversive, with weapons including dildos and hairdryers.

Another highlight comes when Wet Mess, one of the standout performers in the show, becomes a mouthpiece for disembodied voices running through the extensive costs involved with mounting their drag persona (from wigs and costumes through to surgery), all while Ms Sharon Le Grand is having her impressive costume fitted in the background.

The second half is predominantly lighter, running like a cabaret show, with each artist performing a routine from their repertoire, compèred brilliantly by a deadpan, razor-sharp Sue Gives a F*ck, who is captivating throughout.

But it’s drag king CHIYO's emotional rallying cry about the hate crimes experienced by trans people and the community's need for more genuine allies that will stay with you long after you leave the theatre.

Alabanza proves again their vital role as a tunnel between the LGBTQ+ community and theatre. Long may this continue.