Rating: ★★★★★
Venue: Kiln Theatre
Cast: Fanta Barrie, Liz Carr, Zak Ghazi-Torbati, Leah Harvey, Georgie Henley, Mariah Louca, Serena Manteghi and Shuna Snow
The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs, the only lesbian choir in the country, are trying to win their place on the Pride mainstage. In a run-down church hall with an OWL (Older, Wiser Lesbian) at the helm, the ragtag choir navigate love, loss, and trying to agree on song choices. But despite their best intentions, they find that harmony comes at a price.
The most important show to see in 2025.
It's Pride month at the Kiln Theatre and they are celebrating in style…
..,with a new run of The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs - a funny, heartwarming, and relatable play which centres around a group of queer choir members. They meet every week to forget the harsher parts of society and simply sing, but when they are invited to perform on the main stage of London Pride the stakes start to sizzle, and soon they are facing the world head on; whether they like it or not.
Act one takes its time to introduce us to each character individually, without dumping their entire backstory and personal trauma on us all at once. This is all too common for LGBTQ+ stories, and a lot of them are solely focused on the fact that the characters are queer, and not who they are alongside that, or what their experiences are outside of their sexuality. It is interesting to note that not many labels are used at all in this first half, other than notably in one conversation where they are particularly relevant. Otherwise, where they are not absolutely useful, they aren't spoken about a great deal.
This theme continues as the script goes on to cover almost every intersectionality there is, without it feeling like a tick box exercise. To do this, they do include a lot of archetypal portrayals, however none of these feel harmful or outdated or unrealistic; and they actively address the fact that we will all fit one stereotype or another - after all, they must come from somewhere!
You almost forget about the technical aspects by this point because it really feels like you're there with them, which just proves how naturally the design team have managed to realise the vision of the piece. My only critique would be the regular blackouts between scene changes, as these threw me out of the world they had so generously invited us into, and generally felt like a less creative choice. Anna Reid’s set and costumes were brilliant and had so much character of their own, which is where the coherence between all departments really becomes clear.
After the interval, things get a bit heavier. Act two starts with a recap of the choir's time at Pride and, at first, I wish we had seen more of this in depth. But then you are made to realise that actually their ‘Pride’ is everyday; in the homes they live in and spaces they share - not at one big party that happens once a year, sponsored often by huge corporations doing the most minimal work to create meaningful or structural changes to support queer people in the community etc.
As we return to the now familiar practice room, we dive into important topics like non-consensually outing people, being culturally closeted, racism, and ableism.
Naturally, homophobia also rears its ugly head as it would be incredibly unrealistic to exclude this (unfortunately common) part of living as a queer person in what is still such an exclusive and judgemental country. Again, this did not become predictable or melodramatic as is so frequently seen in toxic ‘gay media’.
The same can be said for many other moments where it is clear what is happening on stage, but no one ever directly acknowledges it. This provides a huge helping hand in making the production educational and thought-provoking, without the audience really feeling like they're learning anything. Even in writing this review, I can see that I have taken some seriously profound messages from the piece when, at the time of watching it, I was just enjoying laughing and crying along with some talented lesbians that, honestly, very quickly felt like friends. Credit for this goes entirely to the synergy between writer, Iman Qureshi and director, Hannah Hauer-King - unsurprising given that they're married!
With live debates, no clear right or wrong answers, and plenty of accountability both taken and requested, this show platforms some incredibly important dialogue about the anti-trans issues swarming in Great Britain right now. The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs is evidence that, when content comes from the same demographic as the audience it's trying to reach, it really does work.
Truly outstanding performances were given by every cast member, however special mentions must be given to: Leah Harvey for such a softly commanding stage presence, Liz Carr for her completely comical cynicism, and Shuna Snow for unparalleled commitment to her character.
It's important to remember that pride is and has always been a protest; so, while the show ends on a positive note, it doesn't offer any decisive conclusion. This felt like a conscious decision, so that we can't forget there is always a new chapter to follow and the fight is never quite done.
You can book tickets to The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs, here.
Review by Katie
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