Homo(sapien) lead actor repurposes a hurley as a penis at a urinal within the first two opening minutes. The one man show follows the story of a young man coming to terms with being a virginal gay man whilst simultaneously dealing with Catholic guilt and being from Galway. During an hour long crashout on his struggles with virginity and gayness, actor and writer Conor O’Dwyer embodies a hot mess and the struggle to come to terms with yourself to a tee.
The claustrophobia of being gay in a small-town environment is something that O’Dwyer draws from thin-air, with his face and tone transforming to judging onlookers with ease. The overall tone of the play was fevered in its energy, with O’Dwyer’s voice nearly always booming – although, I would have liked to have seen his character sit in silence more.
Shapeshifting is the overall currency the play trades in: Jesus is made into gay-icon during a revelatory conversation with a ghost from the character’s past says there’s no homophobia in the bible – and posits that Jesus and his disciples’ homosocial environment were actually, pretty gay. Earlier in the play when O’Dwyer goes to a gay night in the Róisín Dubh, it is with the help of his new mesh top and drugs which allow him to feel comfortable enough to allow a man to approach him.
The show – which is directed by Jen McGregor – first emerged in the form of a fifteen minute excerpt at 2023’s International Dublin Gay Theatre Festival. Considering the incredibly sparse staging – which does work – I think McGregor deserves praise for O’Dwyer’s fantastic movement that brings the play’s characters to life.
The audience laughed through the actor’s exceptional physicality, which for me was the highlight of the show, along with its charming humour. O’Dwyer fluidly morphs from a GAA lad to his girl best-friend. The humour was unfortunately not as sustained in the second half of the play which would have worked to counteract the alarming heaviness of hate crimes, self-hatred, and fear – with the addendum of the most embarrassing and awkward Grindr encounter which had me gasping with laughter later in the play.
One of the most excruciating moments came when the actor reenacted a hate-crime which shook me and felt perhaps too uncomfortable to watch as a member of the LGBTQ+ community. While this intense violence could be countered by the euphoric joy in the dance scene later, the play stalled a tad and did not quite manage to transform into a club scene for me.
Homo(sapien) balances humour with fiercely intense subject-matter. With his charming humour and exceptional physicality, O’Dwyer will be one to watch in the future.
Fringe goers can see Homo(sapien) at Edinburgh from July 30th to August 24th at 1.10 pm at the Snug Bar, with tickets available here.
