In the interval of The Little Prince I had the pleasure of speaking with the production’s wonderful co-director, Rubyyy Jones. We were interrupted by a middle-aged woman sitting to my right, who told Jones that she loved the “three little girls” playing the main part.
“People” replied Jones, smiling. “One is transitioning.”
The woman digested this information.
“Oh, I would have probably been like that when I was young: told myself I was in the wrong body. But you grow out it, don’t you?”
Such idly transphobic thinking is testament to the importance of why this production exists, and to the existence of the Arcola Queer Collective itself. As the only LGBTQ theatre group attached to a professional theatre in the UK their founding remit is to explore queer issues through theatre. In reworking Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic children’s tale for the stage, the Collective’s choices subtly educate, as well as engage.
Spitting the main part into three performances is a brave choice, and all of the actors sharing the part were solid. If sometimes it felt hard to emotionally invest in a tripartite protagonist, it allowed the Little Prince to be referred to as ‘they’ throughout without confusion for any audience who might be unfamiliar with the gender-neutral pronoun. And it illustrated the multiple fissures of the self’s identity: ‘I is an other’, as Rimbaud would say.
Jonathan Scholey was suitably charismatic and beguiling as the pilot/narrator, who meets a little prince from another world when his plane crashes in the desert. The various and multi-faceted characters met along the prince’s quest were show-stealing. From Arkem Mark Walton’s entrancing flower singing Bowie’s ‘Wild is the Wind’ to Charly Flyte’s brilliantly neurotic geography teacher, via Damien Hughes’ arbitrary king and Vix Dillon’s lustful fox, a myriad of queer personas enlightened us with their differing wisdoms.
Nick Connaughton’s adaptation was good, and the direction by both Connaughton and Jones was excellent. Although I’d have liked to have seen more of Camilla Harding’s suave and sinister snake to get more of a sense of the threat she posed to the Prince(s). Yet overall this production was poignant and thought-provoking, beautifully wrought by Lydia Cawson’s costumes. You may just leave with a greater understanding and appreciation for the fabulous queer community of London.
• The Arcola Queer Collective, The Arcola Theatre, 24 Ashwin Street, E8 3DL
