TERF ★★★ - The Recs

Arriving at the Fringe amongst some stirrings of controversy, Joshua Kaplan’s play, TERF, explores one of the most commented on celebrity spats of modern times: J.K. Rowling’s outspoken view on trans versus women’s rights, and the counter stance from her young cast, Daniel Raddcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint.

Beginning with a barrage of X posts, highlighting the toxicity that so often shames the discussion, the play’s set-up sees the author and actors convene at a restaurant, and soon their differences provoke much quarrel.

Surprisingly, TERF plays, for the most part, as a broad comedy. Each of the main four protagonists is drawn as exaggerated caricatures of their public personas: Watson (Trelawny Kean) is achingly over-earnest, Radcliffe (Piers MacKenzie) a try-too hard hipster, with Grint (Tom Longmire) as the jobbing everyman. Rowling (Laura Kay Bailey) is the most bafflingly rendered, the wee Scottish lassie done well for herself somehow morphing as Anna Wintour channelling Penelope Keith. This does, however, make her, unequivocally, the most entertaining of the players, although all commit enthusiastically, even when the dialogue can be somewhat trite.

Once one abandons the notion that this is going to offer any kind of serious character study, it’s easy enough to amble along with Rowling spraying bitchy, and frequently very funny, put downs to puncture the puffed-up importance of the youngsters. Several scenes told in flashback also offer knowing winks to where both the characters and society are headed. Indeed, it’s the comedic elements of the play that work best, even if its humour can sometimes be rather puerile. (A running dildo gag, for example, rather outstays its welcome.)

Where TERF is less sure footed is in offering any genuine commentary, from either perspective, on the trans altercation. Both sides are presented largely through the characters spouting soundbites, platitudes or anecdotes. When one is so bold as to label a work TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminist), it’s not unreasonable to expect a more definitive voice. Similarly, cancel culture is not dealt with any meaningful insight.

The rare attempts at drama are also missteps. When Rowling is confronted by her violent ex (also played by MacKenzie), it’s difficult for anyone who has read the author’s recounting of her experiences to buy what plays out. The scenes are not helped by Bailey maintaining her performance’s bossy headmistress notes. She is a charismatic and talented actress, but is somewhat jarring in these sequences. She’s not helped by the writing, even if a certain tension is built.

Wafting in and out of proceedings, the sole trans character is a nameless ghost-like presence, mostly mute but granted the odd short soliloquy. As a nod that acknowledges that the voice often left out of the debate is that of those with lived trans experiences, it works. But as symbolism goes, it’s rather heavy-handed.

Inconsistent in its tone, and somewhat muddled in what it seems to be trying to say, TERF is still entertaining enough to justify the time spent with it. But as the biting slice of discourse one might have expected, it emerges as somewhat toothless.