“One of my favourite things about 'Homo Pentecostus' is that I don't need to spend 30 minutes showering afterwards. Anyone who knows my previous works will know that I usually slink off stage with some unholy concoction of chocolate syrup, whipped cream and marshmallows sloughing off my body, or dripping a snail trail of neon body paint and biscuit crumbs all the way to the dressing room.

Not with 'Homo Pentecostus'. Just some sweat. Well, a lot of sweat. A quick wipe down, toss on a t-shirt and I can be out in the foyer in ten minutes.

And this is a joy because I get to yarn with audiences. Folk have come up and shared their stories of growing up in the Pentecostal or Evangelical Church. Or they share Peter Paltos' experiences of growing up in the Orthodox Church. Peter shares the stage with me in the performance and, in a way, the show is a long conversation between the two of us. It's sewn together from real conversations we had in the studio, conversations about queerness, sex and our skincare regimens. About Christ Energy. About faith and spirituality and the differences between the two. About conversion therapy.


Anyway, my favourite memory of these post-show chats was from our first season at Melbourne's Malthouse Theatre with a guy I'll call Charles. Charles waited patiently, hovering at the edge of my field of vision while I bantered with audience members. When the foyer was practically empty, he hesitantly came up and introduced himself to me. Charles is, he said, a Pentecostal chaplain, a leader in the Church and very much still a believer. Charles is also queer and in the closet. Tears came to his eyes as he shared his story and thanked us for the show. It was, he said, the first time he'd ever seen his story told on stage or screen.

And so the tears then came to my eyes. It was unbelievably gratifying. As Emma Valente (my co-director on this show) puts it, we have held a certain audience in our mind as we crafted the work: The queer person still in the Pentecostal Church.

This could easily have become a show in which a bunch of woke-inner-city-queer-lefties bag out the Pentecostal Church and its weirdness. But it isn't. Thanks partly to Peter's ongoing spirituality and partly to nostalgia I was surprised to discover as I delved into my own complex history as that ‘queerbo’ in the Church, the work has evolved into something much more nuanced, gentle and full of love.

In a way, 'Homo Pentecostus' is a love letter to all you queer folk who hold something sacred in your heart and your beliefs. I'm really looking forward to yarning with you in the foyer.

xo Joel”