Black Faggot

It can be hard trying to find depictions of people like you in the media when you just happen to be young and gay. And so naturally, you actively seek out any gay content you can find and stick with it, no matter the quality. You hang on for comfort more than anything. Most gay men between the ages of 20 and 30 have some story about how they watched Queer As Folk – many doing so up late and on the sly, while their parents slept in the next room. There’s more variety now of course – just. For those already tired of the ‘new’ gay experience as reflected in HBO’s Looking (since when did gay men in San Fran trade in a sense of humour for singlets and facial hair?), perhaps swap a night in front of Foxtel and catch Black Faggot – an all-too-rare two-hander, offering a look at the lives of young Maori and Islander men.

Actors Iaheto Ah Hi and Taofia Pelesasa introduce a whole mess of characters through short scenes and monologues – an ‘undercover brother’ desperate for a real relationship but fearful of family reaction, a proud Samoan man who refuses to be closeted and an Islander mother coming to terms with her son’s homosexuality. How these characters are connected and intertwined becomes clear over the course of the hour-long run. Ah Hi and Pelesasa have an enormous weight on their shoulders, with nothing to hide behind – quite literally. There are no costumes, no props, no flashy effects, forcing the men to cope head-on with some fairly awkward transitions. Launching from a heartbreaking monologue into the show’s crudest joke in less than three seconds might be indicative of a lack of confidence in the drama of the work. Luckily, most of the show is played for laughs and it gets them – both Ah Hi and Pelesasa are such natural comedic performers and it’s a delight to discover their range from one scene to the next. Ah Hi is particularly brilliant as a fussy man obsessed with a tidy sexual aftermath, while Pelesasa is hateful but hilarious as a daft and conning nightclub regular.

Black Faggot was written by Victor Rodger after he observed a rally against New Zealand’s Marriage Equality Bill. It’s not a counter-protest piece as much as it is a piece to reassure gay youth that they are important, they are of value, they have support – even if they cannot find it in their home or their school or their church. While the message comes through, out, loud and clear, the end feels undeserving of what came before. The final lines, while full of hope –and yes, hope is important – feel as if they belong in a Glee spec-script, not a provocative New Zealand export.

Part laugh-out-loud fringe comedy, part super-progressive, after-school special, part absolute filth, Black Faggot gives us a welcome fresh perspective on universal struggles. Let’s hope there are plenty more stories like it.