Review | Cowbois, The RSC
Sophie Melville and Vinnie Heaven. Image by Henri T (c) RSCWritten by Roni
*Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in return for an honest review
The RSC’S Swan Theatre is currently enjoying a varied season, programmed by former acting Artistic Director Erica Whyman, and from their commitment to bringing new plays to a wider audience comes Charlie Josephine’s Cowbois, a raucous western with a twist. ‘No guns, no politics’ are the rules at this town’s saloon; rules which, thankfully, like many others, are eschewed with a firm hand. Is the Wild, Wild West about to get even wilder?
Cowbois follows a sleepy town in the Wild West, whose men are all missing and presumed dead after they left in search of gold a year ago. Their women, having been left behind with only a drunken sheriff to rely on, have grown used to the mundane life they now keep, keeping to their roles as ladies. That is until renowned bandit Jack Cannon rides into town, invoking a reaction in the women that they never thought possible. With his charming ways and crooning vocals, it isn’t long before Jack has flipped everything this town thought it knew upside down. Seducing Lillian, the saloon owner’s wife, and liberating the others to discover what they truly want in life, Jack has happily laid his hat. Until one day, the men come home…
This show puts a lot of emphasis on language, and its words (and the people saying them) are certainly its strength, Specifically, the word queer is woven through this production as a stark double entendre which has the audience both giggling and pausing for thought. The script is subtle in parts, nuanced, and relies on implication and interpretation, especially during Lillian and Jack’s romp in the water. Whilst these scenes do effectively convey their meaning for those searching for it, there is a risk of Josephine’s intentions going over the heads of those who are less familiar with issues surrounding the trans community. Likewise, the show is choppy at times and seems to flit between gender issues and others, such as race and immigration. These are only briefly mentioned and feel slightly shoehorned into an otherwise beautiful piece that feels natural and authentic to the plights of women and other genders outside of cis men.
Vinnie Heaven is lovely as the swaggering Jack, showing that vulnerability and empathy can have women falling at your feet even more so than pure masculinity. They certainly had the audience whoopin’ and hollerin’ with their stunning vocals and dance moves, and their lament on being stuck in the wrong body was incredibly heartfelt. Sophie Melville plays the sturdy Lillian, who is more surprised than anyone at how she falls for Jack. Her grief at her husband’s return and the prospect of having to give up her newfound happiness felt raw and tangible, which I’m sure will strike a chord with many members of the LGBTQ+ community. Special mentions must also go to Paul Hunter as the beautifully vulnerable sheriff, Lucy McCormick as the hilariously liberated Jayne, and Lee Braithwaite in their professional debut as repressed wife Lucy, later Lou. Bridgette Amofah also delivers some killer vocals as Mary, the determined mother who is ready for change.
Overall, this production feels like a little pocket full of something special. This truly is a rousing celebration of what it means to be yourself, and boy, are they doing it in style. Hilarious, heart-warming, and downright cheeky, this feels like a real love letter to the trans community which I hope will be warmly received.
At Swan Theatre until 18 Nov 2023.
