Review: 0800 Cupid (Soho Theatre)
- Sam - Admin
- Oct 18, 2024
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 19, 2024
Review by Harry Bower
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
As a young-ish person living in London, I can relate to the sense of isolation and loneliness which the capital can leave you feeling, despite being surrounded by millions of other people. It’s easy to relate, too, to the sense of pending doom which threatens to engulf young people already buffeted by a global pandemic, war, the effects of capitalist greed on a shrinking economy and, of course, the general pains of trying to figure out who you really are. Writer-composer-performer-and-all-round-star Emer Dineen explores all this and more in THISISPOPBABY’s 0800 CUPID, now playing at Soho Theatre.

0800 CUPID is an autobiographical musical comedy romp with as many affecting moments as it has LOLs, and as much heart as it has silliness. And it has silliness in abundance. Dineen as host walks us through her life story from late nights at the drag club drinking to forget heartbreak, to Sunday tearoom trips with her Alzeimers-suffering cowboy father, and living alongside 70,000 bees. Accompanied by a faultless retro disco vibe band dressed in white and two accomplice performers with superb physicality, Dineen is a force of nature, storming around the stage with an energy which defies logic. The pace of narrative and the intensity of storytelling creates magic; a distorted, suspended reality for everyone in the theatre. We are held in the palm of Dineen’s hand and with this finely tuned, chaotic, beautiful piece of art she toys with us - and we all have more fun as a result.
The piece is structured around a set of original musical numbers, which are all exceptional. Eclectic but catchy pop smash hits are followed by acoustic Kate-Nash-but-actually-funny style dating tales set to a ukelele, which make way for a Tim Minchin-esque ballads in which Dineen bargains with God. It’s enough to give you whiplash, but it is all just so good. The musical numbers are at their strongest when being sung by our protagonist and it is in the touching final ballad that Dineen as composer flexes her song-writing muscles. The sniffles in the audience were representative of many others who sat with tears rolling silently down their cheeks.

Playing the multitude of supporting characters are Isabel Adomakoh Young and Carl Harrison. Both flit about the stage diving into a new costume every five minutes representing the eclectic cast of characters which pepper Dineen’s life. From dystopian yet somehow eighties call centre staff to church wardens, a beekeeper, a magic-mushroom hallucination of the Universe in female form… you name it, this pair can do it - and do it in the most camp way possible. Together they represent a thread of queerness which is baked into this tale. They are a physical manifestation of the chaotic nature of Dineen’s story, and their often understated accompaniment to her scene-stealing moments are integral to the overall impact of the piece.
This is not a perfect piece of theatre. It is however, raw, honest, beautifully unpolished and strangely affecting. Sometimes going to the theatre is like a warm embrace from a stranger. That’s how I felt tonight leaving Soho Theatre into the cold October air. Watching someone’s life story can sometimes feel, intentionally or otherwise, invasive or alienating. Watching 0800 CUPID is the exact opposite of that. It’s a gorgeous commentary on the value of living in the now, not taking life for granted, dealing with grief, and bouncing back from trauma. It’s nuanced, it’s layered, and it’s constructed in such a way that you feel locked into the life of this chaotic and flawed human being. When you’re released from that hold, it encourages you to consider your own story and allows you the space to reconsider some of that story through a new lens. It is a remarkable piece of theatre which deserves to be seen by as wide an audience as possible.

0800 CUPID plays at Soho Theatre until Saturday 26 October 2024. For more information visit: https://sohotheatre.com/events/0800-cupid/