Jack Holden in Cruise at the Apollo Theatre. Photo Pamela Raith.Transitioning from his young self to the caller Michael, (and on through a dazzling array of other fully-fleshed characters), Holden brings to life the vibrancy and seediness of London life as he rampages through nightclubs, bars, public toilets and even a recording studio, with the sort of life-affirming energy and enthusiasm of a child in a toy shop, (or perhaps more appropriately, but no less voraciously, a middle-aged gay couple at a garden centre)!
The 90-minute feat of theatre is accompanied throughout by John Patrick Elliott’s omnipresent DJ, positioned above the stage, pumping out an era-defining techno beat as we careen towards a fateful epiphany in 1988. Having already lost his lover and soulmate to the dreaded virus, and having lived life to excess for four years, he now has to learn to live on into the future as he passes the milestone which predicted his own death. It’s at this point the more sobering realisations associated with the period are given their moment in the spotlight and we get to reflect on their tragic and devastating consequences.
The snuffing-out of so many wonderful and energised souls has been documented many times via a multitude of different media. Here, under Bronagh Lagan’s taut direction, this one-man stage contribution to that canon, more than earns its place and provides an evening of joyous spectacle, sexy, frivolous asides, relatable characters and moving poignancy on the journey.
“Gentlemen, if we pull this off it will be the greatest escape mankind has ever made”. Low stakes, then, in this enjoyable play depicting of the escape from Stalag Luft III Prisoner of War camp.