Review: A VOICE THAT REFUSES TO BE SILENCED

CHIOR BOY RISES IN SONG AND DEFIANCE. AN ELECTRIFYING PORTRAIT OF IDENTITY, FAITH, AND THE COST OF BEING SEEN

★★★★★

There are productions that move you, and then there are those that seem to reach inside the ribcage and rearrange something essential. The revival of Choir Boy at Theatre Royal Stratford East does precisely that—arriving not as a gentle hymn, but as a full-throated, soul-stirring anthem.

Written by Tarell Alvin McCraney, this coming-of-age drama unfolds within the rigid confines of the Charles R. Drew Prep School, an elite, all-boys institution steeped in tradition and expectation. At its center is Pharus Young, a senior with a voice that soars and a presence that refuses to shrink. Openly gay, unapologetically expressive, and deeply committed to both his faith and his sense of self, Pharus is a young man navigating a world that demands conformity while punishing difference.

From the very first moments—when the choir’s harmonies rise in immaculate a cappella—the production establishes its dual language: music and tension. That harmony is shattered almost immediately by an act of cruelty, as a fellow student hurls a racist and homophobic slur at Pharus. It is a jarring rupture, but also a thesis. This is a world where beauty and brutality coexist, often in the same breath.

What McCraney captures so exquisitely is Pharus’s refusal to be diminished. He absorbs the blows—verbal and otherwise—not as passive acceptance, but as a form of resilience sharpened by necessity. He carries on, head high, voice unwavering, yet never loses the right to speak, to challenge, to demand better. It is a performance of survival, but also of quiet rebellion.

The play resists the temptation to orbit solely around its protagonist. Instead, it widens its lens to include the boys around him—each wrestling with their own fragile definitions of manhood, belonging, and belief. These intersecting arcs lend the production a rich emotional texture, revealing how systems of repression harm not just the outliers but everyone within them.

The most devastating moment arrives in the second act, in a shared shower space that becomes a crucible of fear and shame. An offstage intimacy between Pharus and David—something tender, remembered from their younger years—curdles into violence when the threat of exposure intrudes. The suddenness of David’s reaction, the punch that lands both physically and emotionally, is almost unbearable. It is a scene that lays bare the cost of secrecy in an environment where desire itself is treated as transgression.

Yet even in its darkest passages, Choir Boy never relinquishes its sense of grace. Much of that is owed to Femi Temowo's luminous musical arrangements. Rendered a cappella entirely, the songs are not mere interludes but emotional exhalations—communal expressions of longing, faith, and fleeting freedom. They swell, they crack, they heal. At times, they feel like the only safe space these boys are allowed.

At the center of it all is Terique Jarrett’s astonishing turn as Pharus. It is, quite simply, a star-making performance. Jarrett inhabits the role with a rare duality—able to break your heart with a glance one moment, then lift you skyward with his voice the next. And what a voice it is. Effortlessly spanning octaves, bending notes into something both precise and deeply felt, he doesn’t just sing—he testifies. There are moments when the auditorium seems to hold its breath, suspended in the sheer clarity of his sound.

Under the exceptional direction of Nancy Medina, the production is guided with a steady, deeply empathetic hand. Medina brings the story vividly to life, shaping each scene with emotional clarity while allowing the actors space to fully inhabit their characters. She understands when to let the music soar and when to let silence do the heavier lifting, particularly in moments of confrontation, where the tension feels raw and unvarnished rather than theatrically heightened.

Choir Boy is, ultimately, about the courage it takes to live in full voice in a world that would prefer you whisper. In this electrifying revival, that voice rings out—clear, defiant, and utterly unforgettable.

At Theatre Royal Stratford East, the production forms part of the inaugural season under Artistic Director Lisa Spirling, whose programming already signals a bold and thoughtful new chapter for the venue. Her curatorial vision is evident in the caliber and urgency of the work on display.

Choir Boy - Stratford East

Attended on 14 April 2026