Winner of the WhatsOnStage Best Off-West End Production 2022 Award, My Son’s a Queer, (But what can you do?) is the joyous autobiographical story of social-media sensation Rob Madge, which is returning to the West End by popular demand. We spoke to Rob ahead of the show’s opening this Wednesday (25 January).

How did you come up with the idea of turning this particular part of your life story into a play?

In 2020, I was living back at my family home and found myself rewatching home video footage of when I used to put on shows in my living room. I found them hilarious but was also oddly moved seeing how supportive my family were of my showbiz endeavours. It came as a surprise to me. I then realised the element of surprise was partly due to the fact we don’t see enough examples of supportive familial structures in queer narratives. So I wanted to provide that alternative world, a world which for me, thankfully, was reality. I also realise we see many queer stories revolving around teenage years or adulthood. Not many delve back into the earliest parts of our lives, perhaps because queerness is so often seen in opposition to childhood. For some reason, it’s seen as an adult concept, I’m not sure why. You only have to take one look at the videos to see there was no doubting the queerness of it all and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. 

How does it feel to be able to perform your own writing?

Daunting, terrifying, overwhelming and deeply fulfilling all at once. When you’re performing your own work, it’s as though you have a buzzer in your mind that constantly sounds its alarm with each audience response: “Oh, they liked that one”, “could do better there” and so on. You’re constantly reworking as you go, wholly dependent on the reaction of the audience and that’s what I love most about it - theatre is a two-way relationship between audience and actor and, as the writer, you have extra license to play around with that relationship. Ultimately, I feel great pride in sharing a show that celebrates my family. They deserve their flowers, as do all families who love unconditionally. 

How does the process of getting a one person show on stage differ from being part of a large-scale production with a big cast?

They aren’t dissimilar! I think the fundamentals remain the same - you want to tell a good story. Even though I’m the only one on stage, I don’t really consider it a one person show anymore - every single person involved in My Son’s A Queer has contributed so much that it’s a totally different beast to the little stand-up routine I had in my mind when I started writing it three years ago. I suppose the biggest difference is that the bows are a lot shorter (unless I really milk it). 

Your show keeps returning because audiences just seem to love it. What is it that you think people love about this show?

I think because it’s hopeful. As a society, we’ve really overlooked the importance of joy. It’s almost rebellious these days to be joyful. For the sake of growing old, we’ve abandoned our inner child. We’ve (either consciously or subconsciously) moved on from those days of simplicity and the unabashed freedom that came with youth. So much so that when you’re confronted with it in the show, it comes as a welcome surprise, almost like an old friend saying hello. When you’re hit slap bang in the face with something that you might have forgotten, you’re transported. It’s liberating. I think people resonate with the show because it poses that question of why we lost our joy but, crucially, can we recapture it? And the show responds with an unequivocal yes. And now, more than ever, we need hope. 

At what point did you realise this show you've created is something really special and not just another one-person show?

I suppose one of the highlights of doing the show has been seeing the range and diversity of the audience. When I first wrote it, I imagined a niche theatre crowd would enjoy it, potentially those that liked a Disney film and, of course, the LGBTQIA+ community. As the show has developed, however, I’ve been meeting all kinds of people from all walks of life. What’s most special is seeing kids bring their parents (grown-up kids included), or grandkids bring their grandparents! Some were already affected by LGBTQ+ issues but often there have been those that are learning about this for the first time, having their minds opened with their children by their side - the last thing I want to do is preach to the choir so if the show is helping create an open dialogue between people, that’s all I can hope for. However, at the end of the day, I just turn up to work and share the story. I’m chuffed that it’s resonated with people but if I spent much time deconstructing it beyond the space of that hour on stage, I think I’d go mad. I think anyone that has the guts to step foot on a stage and be vulnerable with an audience is a bit of a warrior (side note: not calling myself a warrior, anyone BUT me is a warrior. I’m very humble). 

You've performed the show at Edinburgh Fringe, twice in the West End and in various cities around England. What are your future hopes and ambitions for this show?

I reckon the only logical next move would be a permanent residency in Vegas. Or Birmingham. One of the two. 

Why should audiences come and see My Son’s A Queer, or come and see it again in this new West End run?

Because there’s footage of my grandma being pushed around on an office chair in my living room (it was the teacups. I turned my house into Disneyland). What more could you want? 

My Son’s a Queer (But what can you do?) plays at the Vaudeville Theatre from 25 January - 18 March, with tickets available here.