When The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs originally premiered at the Soho Theatre as a response to the lack of depictions on stage of lesbian life, playwright Iman Qureshi said she wanted to make the show “a lesbian mecca.” It may well achieve that status with its vibrant new revival at the Kiln Theatre.
Qureshi’s play The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs attempts to portray a whole rainbow of lesbian characters who are trying to work together in harmony as a choir, but in reality, they often find their interactions to be discordant and messy.
Led by Connie, an OWL (Older, Wiser Lesbian), they are the only lesbian choir in the country, and they meet every Saturday in a run-down community hall with the goal of performing on the main stage at Pride.
When they do eventually get to perform on the Pride stage as the freshly named The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs, their appearance is marred when Dina, who is new to the lesbian scene, naively wears a T-shirt which seems at face value to be harmless but is actually from TERF lesbian protestors. This opens a whole Pandora’s box of political worms.
The second act is mainly dominated by the fallout of the T-shirt drama after The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs choir are banned from Pride for life and are cancelled on social media by the LGBTQ+ community for being allegedly transphobic.
Qureshi’s discerning script doesn’t shy away from complex narratives around gender, domestic abuse, the immigration system, and ableism. Her focus includes the current socio-political gender war that is driving a wedge between the choir members of The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs.
However, the attempts at overall inclusivity in The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs sometimes overreach and weaken the play’s journey by trying to cover almost every issue affecting the lesbian experience.
Towards the end of the play, Fi, a disabled gay woman who relentlessly campaigns for a ramp so she can access the choir’s hall, steals the show with a rousing speech about feeling erased as a lesbian because her identity is built on her being a woman and loving women, and that ultimately she feels invisible in today’s society.
Qureshi’s acerbic wit mischievously pierces through the stereotypes of female same-sex relationships: the cat sharing, life on the allotment, and the almost religious pilgrimages to Ikea.
Despite The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs having some brilliant laugh-out-loud one-liners, overall the comedy isn’t exactly nuanced. It follows very much in the cheeky vein of amiable classic British upbeat comedies and feels like a queer equivalent of The Full Monty.
The musical mash-up of ‘Pussy is God’ and Carmina Burana is one of the comedy highlights of the evening.
Under the tight direction of Hannah Hauer-King, all the cast of The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs shine in their respective roles and make it into a truly heartfelt ensemble show.
Shuna Snow has a bracing energy as the jolly hockey sticks OWL Connie, and she shows off some brilliant physical comedy skills as she conducts the choir. Liz Carr is perfect as the sometimes cranky but always feisty Fi. Leah Harvey as Lori reflects a broad range of emotions as she faces the seven-year itch with her virtue-signalling partner Ana (Georgie Henley).
