Ivories 
The Old Red Lion Theatre, London
London is currently sweatier than a drag queen’s tuck in a Ptown summer. The air is thick, the pavements are melting, the only chills we are getting are from our energy bills. When ‘Ivories,’ a haunted house play fresh from the Edinburgh Fringe, arrived in Islington, the first thought wasn’t ‘will it be good?’ but rather ‘will there be air conditioning?’ It’s a rarity in London. Climate denialism is universal. Conjuring goosebumps when the temperature is pushing thirty-plus degrees Celsius will be a challenge for the most dedicated poltergeist.
The Old Red Lion Theatre is the kind of intimate, slightly creaky space where ghosts should feel at home. It has that lived-in, slightly dusty charm whispering forgotten performances, and old lushes haunting the bar. This tiny, atmospheric black box pizza oven is ideal for close-up psychological drama, forcing the audience into the characters’ personal space, making the creaks and shadows close enough to touch. It’s a far cry from the grand stages of the West End and their luxurious temperature control, even if they are only a few tube stops away. All the better for a 90-minute piece like ‘Ivories,’ which thrives on a sense of claustrophobia and inescapable history.
Ivories isn’t a basic bump-in-the-night story. It’s a slow-burning psychological unravelling centred on a dysfunctional throuple. Nonbinary playwright Sloane (Riley Elton McCarthy) is married to Gwyn (Matthias Hardarson). Gwyn had been in a gay relationship with Beckham (Daniel Neil Ash) from his teen years until he met Sloane, dumped Beckham, and explored his bisexuality. The narrative, delivered with a compelling intensity by the three performers, pulls you into a web of intimate secrets, tragic pasts, and the lingering presence of those who refuse to stay buried. The atmosphere is less about jump scares and more about a pervasive sense of dread, a creeping unease that settles in your bones, much like the humidity in London.
Beyond the spectral shenanigans, what resonates most is the undercurrent of unspoken truths. In a week where London bursts into Pride with a loud poof, ‘Ivories’ offers a claustrophobic and introspective look at the secrets we bury, There’s a melancholic queer sensibility woven into its fabric. A recognition of the space bisexuality occupies and the inability of others, even within the queer community, to accept all its implications. Did ‘Ivories’ serve goosebumps in the infernal heat? Perhaps not the icy shivers of a true horror show, but it certainly left an unsettling echo. It’s a well written, emotionally disquieting piece. Ignore the sweat dripping down your back, it might be a chill after all.
| Queerguru Contributing Editor ANDREW HEBDEN is a MEDIA and cultural STUDIES graduate spending his career between London, Beijing, and NYC as an expert in media and social trends. As part of the expanding minimalist FIRE movement, he recently returned to the UK and lives in Soho. He devotes as much time as possible to the movies, theatre, and the gym. His favorite thing is to try something (anything) new every day. |
