'The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs' review — this funny, warm show follows in the tradition of great British ensemble dramas

Read our review of The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs, starring Shuna Snow, Georgie Henley, Leah Harvey and Liz Carr, now in performances at the Kiln Theatre to 12 July.

First staged at Soho Theatre in 2022, Iman Qureshi’s play The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs is a response to the lack of depictions of lesbian life. A running theme throughout is that gay men get the lion’s share of the drama and attention while queer women are expected to quietly tend to their cats and allotments, hence their lack of collective social amenities. If The Archers is a story of everyday country folk, this is a panorama of quotidian lesbian experiences – and it’s funny too, filled with heartfelt a cappella singing.

The only lesbian choir in Britain (fully inclusive, no experience necessary) meets weekly in a leaky community hall – an instantly recognisable design by Anna Reid. It’s led by conductor Connie (the truly splendid Shuna Snow), who, like The Archers’ Lynda Snell, is bracingly brisk and jolly hockey sticks as well as a terrifically good egg. There could be no finer example of an OWL (Older Wiser Lesbian) and a bit of bossiness is essential to getting things done and maintaining harmony, especially if the goal is a spot on the Pride mainstage, even if she needs a bit of a push to modernise the group’s repertoire and the primary school assembly-style choreography.

The key relationship explored by the play is the seven-year itch between Ana (Georgie Henley), a white lecturer in post-colonial literature who’s keen for everyone to know how well educated and right on she is, and her butch Black partner Lori (Leah Harvey), who isn’t out to her devoutly Christian mother and has been hiding her vocal skills under a bushel. If Ana isn’t the most obviously sympathetic characters in the play, she’s one of the most recognisable with her jealousy and need to control her image.

Directed with raucous warmth by Hannah Hauer-King, the first half is filled with snappy dialogue while the second charts the fallout at Pride when one of the members reveals a T-shirt with a slogan that’s innocuous at face value but which has been co-opted by trans-exclusive lesbians.

Tensions are further heightened when the acerbic Fi (Liz Carr), a wheelchair user who fruitlessly campaigns for a ramp to the hall, embarks on a drunken tirade about resenting having to share when she already feels sidelined, thereby jeopardising her budding romance with transwoman Bridget (played with warmth by Mariah Louca). The serious themes are offset with light relief from Fanta Barrie as the cheekily womanising Ellie, who claims to hate drama but actually thrives on it.

The one off-key note is the depiction of Dina (Serena Matenghi), a Qatari migrant with a wealthy and controlling husband who joins the choir after broadband engineer Lori pays a home visit. Her story would be worthy of its own (very different) play, but the character as written comes across as more of a bored housewife than someone who is in earnest about exploring her sexuality.

It isn’t perfect but it is the theatrical equivalent of a favourite cosy jumper and follows in the tradition of great British ensemble comedy dramas such as Pride, Made in Dagenham and Calendar Girls, in which seemingly “ordinary” people discover how much more they’re capable of when they work together. I wouldn’t be surprised if this sweet tale becomes the basis of a film or TV series.

The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs is at the Kiln Theatre to 12 July. Book The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk.

Photo credit: The Ministry of Lesbian Affairs (Photos by Mark Senior)