Writer: Dave Harris
Director: Matthew Xia
Dave Harris’s play may not be subtle – the four characters are certainly larger than life – but it’s impossible not to be swept up in the drama of three male strippers who discover that their act isn’t as good or unique as they thought. If this is how the men in the nearby Magic Mike show feel, then they should be queuing at the door for Soho Theatre’s examination of masculinity and performance.
It’s not just our tickets that we have to show on entry to the main house; we have to present our phones, too, so that our cameras can be obscured by stickers. Has Cynthia Erivo’s understandable anger about her one-woman Dracula being filmed by an audience member caused Soho to take precautionary measures, or are we to see sexy and risqué performances that are safer stored in our heads than on our mobiles? Neither it turns out, as the conceit is that we are going to see the three infamous Dancing Bears of New Jersey. We’re given Strictly-like paddles to show our appreciation of the strippers and dollar bills, presumably, to ram down their jockstraps.
But when they finally do their act, with Trae and Geoff, hilariously and yet wretchedly wearing their cuddly bear heads, looking like reluctant X-rated Pudseys from the BBC’s Children in Need, it’s clear that they are awful, hackneyed adult entertainers. The audience may whoop and cheer, but there’s little that is sexy here. Of course, we only see part of their act; on a usual night, the men get hard, and the female audience is allowed complete access to their bodies.
But the bookings are down, and a few streets away, another club has opened where the male strippers are billed as Dancing Bulls. These rivals are better dancers and have a few more inches in the trouser department than Trae, Geoff and Daddy Bear Donny. The three men peer at footage of the Dancing Bulls, knowing that their time is up and that soon they might be out of a job.
But if this isn’t emasculating enough – Geoff is livid that his 10 inches has been eclipsed – B, the estranged daughter of the club’s owner, suddenly pitches up to tell them that they are not men and that, instead, they are only performing as men, a performance that is in itself an imitation. B doesn’t actually quote from queer theorist Judith Butler, but you can tell that Gender Trouble is at least on her bookshelf at home.
However, Tender isn’t only about gender as performance, but also about straight male fragility. The play interrogates the societal expectations of how a man should have sex with a woman, with Trae forming the focal point of this debate. And the play lives up to its name, and despite all the swearing and sexual references, all the swagger, Harris and director Matthew Xia give us an incredibly tender portrayal of vulnerability and driftlessness.
Dex Lee is alpha male Geoff, who’s such a lothario that he’s never had a long-term relationship, but underneath the bravado, Lee allows hints of a softer side to emerge. Tellingly, he knows the differences between bobbins and fabric scissors. When scolded by B, he sulks like a young boy. Kwami Odoom’s Trae is energetic but a little dim, easily swayed by the others. He would seem like the perfect boyfriend to his longstanding girlfriend, but he plays his masculinity by rote, never diverting from its well-furrowed indentations, never thinking of himself in his lovemaking.
Donny, somewhat older than the other two men, has his own failings too, and yet, perhaps because of his age, they seem more tragic, more irreparable. Darren Bennett furnishes him with a sadness that is sometimes so acute that it is hard to watch. His final act is heartbreaking.
Completing the cast is Jessie Mei Li as the frosty B., who, of course, has secrets of her own to reveal. At first, it seems as if her role will be similar to that of Professor Henry Higgins, teaching her wards the rules of modern masculinity, but she has just as much to learn too. Li’s performance is a compassionate one, and how she keeps a straight face when she’s treated to a lap dance from all of the men at once surely deserves some kind of reward.
Runs until 6 June 2026
