APPARENTLY, YOU CAN DO A LOT
My Son’s a Queer (But What Can You Do?) is a joyous, autobiographical solo show from social media sensation Rob Madge, charting their journey as a queer child with one dream: to stage a full-scale Disney parade in their living room. With wit, heart, and seven easy steps, Madge shows the audience how to support a child’s boundless imagination—especially when it doesn’t fit the mold.
Winningly directed by Luke Sheppard, this “little engine that could” has grown from a home video passion project to a breakout hit at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, then on to three London runs—including a 2022 WhatsOnStage Award for Best Off-West End Production—before finally crossing the pond for its New York debut at City Center, where I was lucky enough to see one of the five performances last weekend.
Backed by a vibrant four-piece band (Julianne B. Merrill on keyboard and conducting, Katie-James Rushin on bass, Emma Ford on drums, and Dwayne Beach on violin), the show features five original songs—plus a reprise and finale—by Madge and composer Pippa Cleary. Highlights include “Anything is Possible,” “Yellow Dress,” “Pied Piper and His Flute,” “Pieces of My Heart,” and “We Will Be Loved Anyway.”
The entire performance is a celebration of queer identity, radical acceptance, and the unique bond between a loving family and a fabulously theatrical child. At just 28, Madge brings to the stage an entire life documented on home video, brought to life through George Reeve’s delightful video design, which captures Madge’s charisma from childhood onward.
Donning wigs to play Mary Poppins, Ariel, Ursula, Peter Pan, and Belle, Rob’s dad gamely steps into supporting roles—though not without some hilarious corrections on camera when he missed a cue or flubbed a line. While those early costumes may have gone adorably “awry,” [as proclaimed by Madge on-camera] Ryan Dawson Laight’s outfits provide Madge with the dazzling, full-circle send-off they truly deserve.
Post New York run, Rob Madge was kind enough to let me get the goods for Stage and Cinema.
GREGORY FLETCHER: I was impressed at the thunderous welcome you received when you walked onstage at the City Center. Especially since this was your New York debut.
ROB MADGE: I was very surprised myself! I think we managed to curate a really special audience for the show in NYC. It was only a week and presumably (most of) the people that were coming had followed the show for a while and knew its history in getting to New York. It felt like friends coming to support, it was so appreciated. And, of course, I owe a lot to TikTok.
Rob Madge on TikTok
FLETCHER: As of now, you have over 235.6K followers. And what with your New York appearance, I expect the numbers to skyrocket. How long have you been on TikTok?
MADGE: I started posting during the pandemic, sharing some of the home videos that eventually made their way into My Son’s a Queer…. Never with the intention of putting on an entire show about them, all of that was sort of a domino effect.
Rob Madge on TikTok
FLETCHER: Was it overwhelming moving from a living room to the Garrick Theatre and later the Ambassadors Theatre—each with an amazing history of thespians playing on those stages? How do you keep yourself in check when your career is moving so fast?
MADGE: My family keeps me firmly in check. I do not come from a theatrical background whatsoever (as evidenced by my Dad’s lackluster attempt to play Javert opposite my Valjean in the living room at the age of 10). Their sense of humor and carefree attitude keeps my feet firmly on the ground. I also go by the motto, “it’s not that deep,” roughly translating to “if Ariel’s wig falls off, is it really the end of the world?”—because we theatre folk care so much about what we do (which is not to be discouraged!), but we can often lose sight of the bigger picture. Ultimately, we are playing dress up and telling stories; we are living the dreams our inner child once had. Remember that, remember to breathe and know that the story you are telling is valid whether it’s in New York City or in your living room.
FLETCHER: The cover of the program says, “Stars are born to shine.” Of course it refers to you, but the show also feels like a lovely tribute to your family. At what point in your life did you realize you have exceptional parents and grandparents?
MADGE: I’ve always been grateful to an extent, but I never truly appreciated what they had done for me until I was presented with examples of the alternative. Seeing how some are not so fortunate to receive parental love, in the way I was, deeply upsets me. Why should one feel “lucky” to experience unconditional love from their parents? It doesn’t seem right. Sadly, that is the case for some, so I acknowledge I am truly blessed. However, I look forward to the day when dads freely letting their son wear wigs isn’t seen as some exceptional act, it’s just an example of a parent loving their kid. Because that’s what parenting should be.
FLETCHER: True that. What was it like for your family to see you perform in the West End?
MADGE: Oh, they take it in their stride. I first started performing in the West End at the age of nine with Mary Poppins so, since then, it’s like water off a duck’s back. I’ll call to tell them how excited I am, for example, that the writers of Death Becomes Her are coming to watch My Son’s a Queer…, and they’ll say “ooh lovely, what are you having for dinner?” Like I say, my feet are forever firmly planted on the ground. That’s not to say they’re not supportive. Quite the opposite. They simply aren’t hypnotized by the razzle dazzle of it all. At the end of the day, this is my workplace. And I love that attitude. It makes it all a little less overwhelming.
Jon Madge, Rob Madge and Jan Madge on opening night (photo by Bruce Glikas)
FLETCHER: Were they able to see you perform in New York?
MADGE: Every single show. We opened on Mum’s birthday and closed on Father’s Day. The timing felt serendipitous.
FLETCHER: Did the show change at all for a New York audience?
MADGE: There was a lot more glitter. The script was adapted to suit an American crowd (far too many niche British references in the earlier drafts). We had a live band for the first time, which gave the show the most amazing lift. After four years, it felt like our little living room parade was getting star treatment!
FLETCHER: Have the audiences here been any different from the British ones?
MADGE: New York crowds are just so much more vocal, in the best possible way. With a solo show, the audience becomes your scene partners, and wow did I have some fantastic co-stars. Truly, the energy is astounding. I feel the audiences in NYC reflect the nature of the city itself—pulsing, electrifying, magnetic. I felt the love bouncing off the walls of New York’s City Center, that’s for sure. Us Brits prefer to receive; New York loves to give. That sounds like an innuendo. Make of it what you will.
My Son’s a Queer (But What Can You Do?) at NY City Center (photo by Bruce Glikas)
FLETCHER: Performing your show must be great therapy. And despite having all the support from your family, you still had your share of suffering—from school bullying and loneliness, not to mention some pretty bad advice from a teacher. Have any of your past culprits stepped forward as adults to acknowledge their bad behavior?
MADGE: Often times, they’re the people asking for free tickets.
FLETCHER: Have any of them seen your show and recognized themselves in your performance? You certainly have a strong response for them all, which felt very cathartic. What was that crossover between art and therapy like for you?
MADGE: I’m unsure as to whether the “villains” of My Son’s a Queer… have been to a performance. I’m sure even if they did, they wouldn’t necessarily recognize themselves in the work—bullies, after all, tend to choose ignorance. And in terms of the catharsis aspect, I am a strong believer that, yes, art can act as a form of therapy; however, I believe it’s healthiest if the therapy aspect is experienced by the audience. I want the show to unlock that inner child that lives within all of us, that we might have forgotten along the way. Of course, the show does that for me too. If, however, I were to experience that catharsis on a physical level night after night, I don’t believe it would be sustainable. It’s still, fundamentally, a show. It’s been written, directed and crafted in a very specific way, always with an audience at the forefront of its mind. When writing, I always have two notebooks: one for the script and one that would be best served in therapy. Often times, I’ll be writing a paragraph and I realize, “Hmm, probably best I don’t relive this one night after night in front of a paying audience.” So that goes in the therapy book! Ultimately, My Son’s a Queer…, though autobiographical and true, is still entertainment. I want people to be swept away in the story, much like they are with any other theatrical experience. Knowing the distinction is so important.
FLETCHER: You’ve had an amazing career as a professional child actor. Was the crossover to an adult one smooth going?
MADGE: Oh gosh, your voice breaks and you think your career’s over! I was singing “I’m Still Here” from Follies at the age of 13 as though I’d never work again. I ended up stepping away from theatre and going to university, where I did a degree in English Literature. And then at the ripe old age of 22, I realized theatre was still my one true calling so I auditioned for drama schools and did a Masters in Musical Theatre at the Royal Academy of Music. Essentially, I had nearly a ten-year break between child acting and adult acting, so it wasn’t the smoothest of transitions, but I owe so much to that ten-year gap. Rather than going from show to show and perhaps taking it for granted, I was able to step back and take stock of how special the industry is.
My Son’s a Queer (But What Can You Do?) at NY City Center (photo by Bruce Glikas)
FLETCHER: While watching your performance, I have to thank you for making me remember what a large community we are. As you went through your show, I remembered putting on shows in the living room and casting family members; I remembered building a puppet theatre out of a Maytag washing machine box and using my mother’s scarves as back drops and curtains. By the end of your show, I had such a strong sense of community—thanks for giving us that important reminder.
MADGE: That’s so lovely of you to say, thank you! I feel there was a point in our lives when we all felt different. I know I, for one, would never have told the lads at school that I spent the weekend dressing up as Belle. It inherently felt strange because we weren’t seeing other examples of little boys wanting to be Disney princesses. So, I wanted to make a deliberate effort to show that, actually, we were unified in our aloneness, merely separated by living room walls, and therefore not alone at all. And, ultimately, we found each other. The community, in all of its colors on the flag, has ALWAYS. BEEN. HERE. We were a community before we even knew it!
FLETCHER: Absolutely. Love that. And I also loved all the costumes at the finale of your show; it was a very glamorous, satisfying climax.
MADGE: Well, it takes a village! That quick change alone requires the help of at least four others. So, really, it’s not a solo show at all.
FLETCHER: Any plans on returning to the Big Apple as of yet?
MADGE: I love NYC with my entire soul. If the opportunity was presented, I’d be back in a heartbeat. If, however, that’s the end of the My Son’s a Queer story, what a way to bow out. I am so proud of this show and the journey it’s gone on, from a tiny 50 seat theatre, to Edinburgh Fringe, to New York’s City Center, so I don’t want to add extra pressure to what has already been a truly life changing experience. But, of course, if the people of New York fancy a bit more Madge-ic at some point, who am I to deprive them?!
Gregory Fletcher is an author, a theater professor, a playwright, director, and stage manager. His craft book on playwriting is entitled Shorts and Briefs, and publishing credits include two YA novels (Other People’s Crazy, and Other People’s Drama), 2 novellas in the series Inclusive Bedtime Stories, 2 short stories in The Night Bazaar series, and several essays. Website, Facebook, Instagram.
