ajhlovestheatre

CHOIR BOY

by Tarell Alvin McCraney

directed by Nancy Medina; co-directed by Tatenda Shamiso

Theatre Royal Stratford East, London – until 25 April 2026

running time: 2 hours 20 minutes including interval

https://www.stratfordeast.com/whats-on/all-shows/choir-boy

An American play that’s almost a musical and, at times, almost a concert, Tarell Alvin McCraney’s Choir Boy premiered at London’s Royal Court in 2012 before a Tony nominated Broadway run and enjoying numerous productions across the US. Watching Nancy Medina’s sensitive production, originally seen at Bristol Old Vic in 2023 and now co-directed by Tatenda Shamiso, it’s not hard to fathom the appeal of this unruly but life-affirming, stirring dramedy.

The play follows a quintet of African American youngsters negotiating the passage from childhood to manhood at the strict but prestigious Charles R Drew prep school where their principal extracurricular outlet is as members of the choir. The choir leader, and the most fleshed-out character, is super-smart gay Pharus (Terique Jarrett, sublime) whose wise-cracking, opinionated exterior masks deep longings and uncertainties. His flamboyance is tolerated by an understanding but professionally restricted headmaster (beautifully played by Daon Broni) on the condition that his sexuality is never acted upon.

If the other young men -repressed, God-fearing David (Michael Ahomka-Lindsay), gawky, well-meaning JR (Khalid Daley), cocky, jock-y, homophobic Bobby (Rabi Kondé) wounded by the early loss of his Mum- sometimes feel like stock characters in terms of the writing, the performances are so detailed and quirky that it’s easy to overlook. There’s really lovely work from Freddie MacBruce as AJ, Pharus’ roommate and the other character who entirely breaks out of cliché: he’s witty, self-confident both in his personality and his (straight) sexuality) yet raw. He’s also a tremendous ally and friend to Pharus when he needs it most. In a second act scene where he looks after a broken Pharus after all hell has broken loose, initially tentatively but eventually with such kindness, the only sound in a wrapt audience is the sniffing of people overcome with emotion. Jarrett and MacBruce play it with astounding emotional delicacy.

McCraney’s text meanders a bit, to be honest, but it’s also incredibly rich. There’s a riveting dissection of Black history in the US, specifically as filtered through the spirituals which have handed been down through generations and are now performed by these boys; they stud the evening like jewels of feeling and the voices are magnificent (Ahomka-Lindsay and Daley have solos that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up); it’s impossible not to be moved. Martin Turner has an amusing, appropriately toe-curling cameo as a well meaning but out-of-touch white former teacher whose awkward determination to get down with the kids is met with understandable scepticism. 

For all the talking and indeed the singing (Femi Temowo is the excellent musical director and arranger), a pivotal scene is almost entirely wordless which seems a curious choice, as does a swift succession of plot points in the latter half of the play when the script felt more mood than action up until then. The dialogue is soaked in humour and truth though, and is never less than engaging. The staging could ideally do with a couple more actors to better give the sense of a school (though Max Johns’ set is nicely vivid) but it’s pacy and finds the middle ground between entertainment and polemic. 

Although the Black masculinity tropes and the American boarding school setting are pretty specific, there remains a universality to McCraney’s writing that moves and uplifts. If you’ve ever felt othered or misunderstood, if you’ve ever found kindness in a place where you didn’t expect it to be, Choir Boy will strike a chord deep within you. It ends on an uplifting note, with a hopeful suggestion that Jarrett’s exquisite Pharus will soar through life as he deserves, and that’s pretty much impossible to argue with.