Close Enough To Touch | Theatre503

 

© Close Enough To Touch

I took a break from reviewing in 2023. The pressure of making fringe theatre, navigating a world in which funds and resources are low and expectations are high, got to me. I felt forced, as a creative, to be a show's everything - dramaturg, director, and producer in a professional capacity; but also, on a personal level, champion, nourishment, ontological reason, and more. When a sector is systemically undermined by the absence of economic and cultural investment, every opportunity is a "now or never"; every chance to be bold and creative for the sake of living an experience and learning from it, crashes with having to continuously justify the long-term value of your work's existence. 

I feel bittersweet, this morning, as I think about this in light of the fresh news of VAULT Festival's closure. In the last 12 years, VAULT has been the London destination for innovative shows that might not find a direction or platform otherwise; personally, having a show selected for the festival has meant finding a renewed sense of purpose in my work and feeling seen in my efforts. Despite the low visibility and high competition that most fringe shows face, there was still a place for us all to exist together and not in opposition to each other, to celebrate being emergent and imperfect, and to share that insecurity with other artists. Where do we go from here?

Here's where Close Enough To Touch, which I've seen yesterday at Theatre503, makes an entrance. The show is a 75-minute, one-person queer play about cruising in men's toilets. It manages, though, to touch on so much more, especially intimacy, loneliness, and self-censoring. Henry Robert's writing is distinctively poignant, with a deftness in expressing how inexpressable some feelings are. Towards the end of the play, the protagonist reaches a peak in directionlessness and solitude; he can't be alone, can't stand to be with people who love him, and doesn't want to be with strangers. That state of being resonated deep within me, to an unacceptable craving for human connection from someone belonging to a category of people that doesn't exist. 

The highlight of the play is the very intelligent, but impossibly painful admission of how much we struggle with ambiguity, mostly within ourselves. Whether it's a human predisposition or the product of societal and cultural systemic labelling, perhaps we'll never know. The concept stands: it's hard to recognise that we're fragmented beings, that the concept that humans contain multitudes can be empowering but also bring us to despair and self-hate. What if we don't like the multitudes we contain? The yearning to be simpler beings sometimes, because it's too much to come to terms with all our complexities and accept ourselves for who we are - all of it - also sits at the core of the play.

Under the well-paced direction of Lauren Tranter, the show goes by swiftly, maintaining an equilibrated balance between funny and gut-wrenching moments. Ross Barbour gives an incredible performance as the show's conflicted protagonist, constantly daring the audience to look away from what he perceives as deviance and unloveableness - but actually making it impossible to do so because of the charisma and humanity the performance exudes. The simplicity of the set, light, and sound design draws even more attention to the mastery underpinning the writing, direction, and acting. These three parts come together to create a tender and powerful exploration of how limitless we are, the limits we impose to ourselves, and how dangerous it can be to judge ourselves harshly without looking for a counterpoint to that hate in the outside world. 

While grieving for the shows we won't get to see because of the essential championing of VAULT Festival, I find hope in the fact that Close Enough To Touch was programmed and put on by another organisation. That such a deserving show can find its rightful place in the London theatre scene is a relief, and I hope that it will have a bright future. The worry for the many other shows that won't get a similar chance remains. 

© Greta Rilletti Zaltieri, 2024

Close Enough To Touch's last performance at Theatre503 is tonight! You can book your tickets here.