If you think coming out as gay or announcing any change from the heteronormative might be difficult, then try telling your parents and friends that you've just been accepted on a new government-funded programme that will allow you to convert your status as a human into that of a dog.
Burr’s approach is lighthearted and comedic throughout
In an age of gender fluidity the prospect of this transition seems less challenging than it might have been a few years ago. On hearing the news the response might be, “Oh really. Nothing would surprise me these days”. And so it is that we accept the premise in Collar, which was performed for one night only at the Bread and Roses Theatre, prior to its run at the Edinburgh Fringe.
Benji, delightfully played by Thomas Josef Burr in this solo play, eventually does have to face the family, and his best friend Will, who has very generously flown over from the USA, eager to hear the surprise news he’s been promised, only to be teased for a day or so before Benji reveals all. Procrastination is also the order of the day in regard to telling his family, but when he finally gets around to it we are treated to a household worthy of Llareggub. Burr’s Welsh accent, naturally muted, now flourishes in the portrayal of Nan, his dad, his sister and the neighbour. We also meet his pompous, old-school psychiatrist, who needs to make sure that Benji is of sound mind and clear intention, and the rather gorgeous and marginally seductive nurse who steers him through the preparations for the big day.
It’s a big decision that Benji has made, with irreversible consequences if he decides to go through with it. Thought about in more depth, this is clearly a drama that raises issues of mental health, but Collar is not a heavy play you’d put firmly in that category; rather it’s a revelation concerning obsessive, eccentric behaviour; the effects of being unable to form relationships; of disillusionment with humanity and of finding a way to reach one’s full potential and Burr’s approach is lighthearted and comedic throughout.
Before he says a word laughs are forthcoming as he opens, seated upright on a stool, like a playful puppy, making faces and gestures to a selection of famous doggy songs. It’s a thematic selection from across the years that pays tribute to the love affair between humans and canines and reveals just how many famous singers have lyricised about dogs. Thereafter, we are taken into his confidence in a warm and chatty manner that suggests he is already well on the road to becoming ‘a man’s best friend’.
There might be sad ending, or there might be a happy one. Burr did a children’s performance in Cardiff in which he specially adapted the conclusion. A post-show chat in London suggested a number of storylines that could satisfactorily round off the tale, so to speak. It’s a tribute to his and Hannah McLeod’s writing, his vibrant performance and her directorial subtlety that the show provokes the imagination to consider other possibilities, Whichever one they go for in Edinburgh, they almost certainly won't be barking up the wrong tree.
