The Measure of a Man

Gavin Roach first measured his penis at the age of 12 and found it wanting.  And it hasn’t grown much longer when years later he starts trying to use it with other men.  

This gay tale of his teenage innocence, sexual exploration and growing body shame is the meat of Roach’s self-devised work for the Sydney Fringe, the second in his Anxiety Trilogy. The first, apparently much-applauded, was I Can’t Say the F- word.

Roach has an appealing, naked honesty. Indeed, he wears no more than jocks, back to front cap and a denim jacket, with just a chair on a bare stage.   He tells a tender journey: his embarrassment at his soft erections, the men who moved quickly on and, finally, his ability to please lovers so quickly and expertly that they wouldn’t touch him.   Sex it seems is everything in male/gay life.  So, asks Roach – at least in the publicity – if you’re a gay man who can’t have sex, what worth do you have?

It’s a great question – taking the “sex” out of homosexual – but sadly Roach never really explores it, beyond the navel-gazing of his anxious victim.  He spends 35 minutes artfully setting up this young man but then, prematurely, shuts down the show with little ventured about his wider gay world and identity. We are left with just recorded words of rejection from those who pass in the night.

With director Lauren Hopley, Roach moves his story well through different beats and postures, even if the lighting cues and sound quality were uncertain on opening night.  To Roach’s credit, though, The Measure of a Man at least leaves you wanting more.

Martin Portus

Photographer: Jarrod Rose