Tragedy of family in anti-gay dilemma

THE ROLLING STONE, Royal Exchange, Manchester, to May 1

The Rolling Stone of the title is a Sun-style tabloid Ugandan newspaper that picked up its country’s hatred of homosexuals and printed pictures, names and addresses of suspected gay men.

Uganda’s parliament attempted to get an anti-gay law on the statutes in February 2014, which made homosexuality punishable by up to life imprisonment — later overturned on a technicality, a situation the government is attempting to correct.

This national fear — let’s not be too disgusted; it’s only a few decades since we had anti-gay laws in the UK — has been encouraged by the ravings of evangelicals both at home and from abroad, with the result that innocents outed in the paper were often beaten, some murdered, by mobs.

Chris Urch’s Bruntwood prize-winning play is about a family stuck in the middle. Dembe (Fiston Barek), is a young Ugandan in a secret relationship with an Irish doctor, Sam (Robert Gilbert). He has an older brother, Joe (Sule Rimi) who has just been named pastor of his local church and has to prove himself, and a sister, Wummie (Faith Omole) who is close enough to suspect his leanings but loving enough to keep his secret.

Fuelling the hatred is church matriarch Mama (Donna Berlin), stirred by her fears but equally fervent in her devotion to her own “outsider”, Naome (Ony Uhiara), who hasn’t spoken for years after some traumatic event.

Urch concentrates on the dilemma of the family: Joe, who condemns homosexuality from the pulpit (in a particularly rabid sermon) then must recant in private when he learns of his brother’s situation; and the secret of his sister, a good woman trying hard to do her best for her brother.

The play might lose some impact because, like Miller’s Puritan girls before him, Dembe is unjustly singled out — there’s no grey area in which he could be at fault, but this is not that kind of play. As we discover, love of family is shown to be far stronger than that of law and even fear — but we knew that anyway.

Along the way there is Urch’s lovingly crafted, natural dialogue, gorgeous acapella hymns (showing the beautiful side of religion while the people show only the ugly side), and a terrific cast, led by Rimi and Berlin to an inevitable, tragic conclusion.