Cowbois

Anna Sokolova
Dec 6, 2025
6 min read

Updated: 5 days ago

Seymour Centre, 20 Nov - 13 Dec 2025

The review

Kate Gaul is an established director with a unique, rich style, recognisable but not repeatable in well-thought-through details. She is a big player in the world of Queer theatre. This work, at the end of the year full of strong voices like @fruitboxtheatre, performances in the @kxt_bakehouse, “Orlando” in @belvoirst, shows from the Late Night season @oldfitztheatre, stays practically as a quintessence of all calls and hot topics out there.

As the description states: “in a sleepy town in the Wild West, the women drift through their days like tumbleweed. Their husbands, swept up in the gold rush, have been missing for almost a year and show no sign of returning. In fact, the town is almost cut off from outsiders entirely, with only one drunken sheriff for protection. That is, until handsome bandit Jack Cannon swaggers up…”

There is a big, dense, nearly three-hour-long work. It is a multifaceted entity; there are a lot of small bits, each of which can be a pamphlet about acceptance, or freedom of love and choosing whom to love, or fluidity of gender, or power of sexuality, or danger and fear of aggressive masculinity. At the same time, it is a scatter of comedy scenes full of heavy flirting, flaming desire, and blooming sexuality serving as a driving force for self-discovery.

The entire music score is created by a violist and actor, Clay Crighton @claycrighton, who also makes an exposive, grotesque, attention-stealing appearance on the stage.

The tunes, setting smartly along with the flow of lighting, accentuating mood and its changes, lyrism, aggression, humour and joy, make a big part of this show. The live band of versatile and skilled musicians, playing quite a variety of instruments in a little gallery above the stage, and when needed stepping down to an old-fashioned looking piano, set at the saloon counter on the wooden stage, is a natural embedded element of this production.

Framed as a Western, the costumes are designed in the fashion of the era, but pushed high in brightness of colours. Long layered skirts, hard tops, cowboy-style shoes for women, and shirts, neck scarves, pants made of riding on men. And, of course, hats. The piece of art is the outfit of Jack Cannon, a deep-red rich rich-looking set, with embroidery, with boots and a hat, making him an attention centre everywhere he appears. He belongs to the spotlight, he knows that - and literally got a couple of statuesque scenes, frozen, posing, surrounded by a motionless crowd.

It begins one morning, when women one after another are gathering into a pub, disturbing the hostess, Miss Lillian (Emily Cascarino @emilycascarino), to finish her breakfast; she struggles to swallow anyway. The greetings and small talk swiftly turn into snappy, slightly poisoned women’s mini-fights about nothing. When Jack appears, that tone is never returning. This cowboy (Jules Billington @jules_billington_on_insta) is on “wanted” posters; his reputation precedes him, but instead of rejecting and fighting him back, all women are falling under the charm of this eclectic, handsome, charismatic tracs masc.

With a strong point made to push forward, to demonstrate and frown upon the over-confident masculinity, it looked a bit controversial that nearly all women of the town were dropping their guards, seeking Jack’s attention momentarily, like cats in spring. No matter the physicality, no matter whether a straight or a charming trans man, they fall in.

This is a transformation story - at its core. Jack’s presence catalyses something which was brewing unnoticed for too long. The Sheriff, a weak drunker, rediscovering his will-power and himself too. Matthew Abotomey excels in his role, with nuanced, complex changes of mood and pace. He creates perfect drunken talks without overacting, and that is in a play full of exaggerations. With the help of Jack, the buzz is forgotten, and Sheriff finds the courage to become and appear as he deeply wanted. Stylish loud dresses sit on him perfectly.

Lucy (Faith Chaza), an engaged woman who is capable of shooting a deadly sick horse, under the charm and with the support of Jack, appears in a cowboy’s outfit - content, slick and strong.

Jack swiftly becomes an impersonation of a “good bad guy”, per the definition of the only kid, a boy of around ten. That boy is a perfect little human, pure, open-hearted, who sees people as they are, driven by curiosity, unfamiliar with judgment. Don’t huff thinking of a child acting in the play. The boy I’ve seen on the day last week was excellent.

Jack is shifting further and further from any banal description of him as a dangerous gangster. A blossoming apotheosis of this carnival of sexuality is the explosive love story of Jack and Lillian. Visually stunning, brave, engaging, hot, strong, justifying the suddenness and depth of their connection. Reaching the height of the unity two humans in love can get to, they are not pulled apart, they are connecting even stronger, they become more than a couple, then become a symbol.

Flip it all again and look at Miss Jane and Sally-Ann - one is a sharp-tongued, engaged, bored school teacher, and the other one, married, constantly quoting Bilby, religious ma’am, both melted in the presence of Jack. The electric current of awakening desire is nearly palpable. If all expected from watching this show is a high-class comedy about women, come and see Amie McKenna (@avatorchrock) and Jane Phegan unwrapping their charismatic female characters with tenderness and nearly vaudeville lightness, but with a substantial, submerged layer of seriousness.

And then, men are back. Smashing the fragile world of a queer paradise, screaming to bring it all back to order. For them, all must return where it should, to satisfy long-established traditions and values. It all sublimated into a wild rhythmic dance, when all moves in unison, stomping, awakening anxiety and war tempo, as it has been done for hundreds of years. While men are marching, glowing with the feel of belonging and self-assessed power, only Sheriff is there, stomping, but holding fury tight. Jack is vanishing.

And all that wrapped in the shape of a Western, where good guys suddenly return to save who should be saved, where gunfights are a must. There is no shortage of that. A complex mix of all sub-stories unites itself for a final fight with “real”, external hunters who are chasing Jack. Who is, as required by the genre, returned. The town is united, and a long layered ending is not just chasing and hiding, but also a scatter of short, sharp, comical but tender scenes where whoever needs to sort out their relationships, is doing it on the fly, shooting intruders. Eddy O'Leary (@quiet_eddy) is not the dominating character in a story, yet it is a pleasure to watch how his George, a rejected fiancé of Lucy, flows in an emotional rollercoaster. He lets his character feel it all, showing it with long looks, slight changes of facial expressions, and graphically precise moves.

The final scenes are rolling over following Western tradition, a bit predictable and slightly overloaded with concepts of the necessity to fight and kill. With that, it is a bit of grotesque, a cartoon-like set-up, and hence not scary.

What is left as an aftertaste is a deep, satisfying feel of warmth, for all of them set free (with those who disagreed being eliminated). In the final scene with everyone together, joyfully singing led by jazz-spirited Branden Christine, crowding the stage in their colourful costumes, they look like a troupe of street theatre in a fairy tale. A happy crew of troubadours telling stories about love and fairness, which ought to be winners.

It’s guaranteed you’ll leave the theatre smiling. This is a rollicking good time and a great way to complete the year.