In this metatheatrical tragicomedy, an ensemble of queer and trans performers cast themselves in a thought experiment, imagining the future heir to the British throne as having a life resembling their own. Jordan Tannahill, one of Canada’s most acclaimed playwrights, takes no prisoners in this ferociously audacious what-if, brimming with unbridled sexuality, wit, and imagination. A poppers-fuelled phantasmagoria interwoven with personal stories and ecstatic fantasies, Prince Faggot reckons with how the forces of power, privilege, and colonization play upon queer lives.
Jordan Tannahill is a Canadian novelist and playwright based in London.
His debut novel, Liminal, won France's 2021 Prix des Jeunes Libraires. His second novel, The Listeners, was a Canadian bestseller, and was shortlisted for the 2021 Giller Prize.
Tannahill is the author of several plays, and the book of essays, Theatre of the Unimpressed.
In 2019, CBC Arts named Tannahill as one of sixty-nine LGBTQ Canadians, living or deceased, who has shaped the country's history.
This imagining of years from now, when Prince George 'comes out' to the Royal Family, caused quite a bit of controversy, but was a surprise Off-Bway hit anyway - perhaps BECAUSE of that. Some of it is very funny, and yet has a sting in its tail - but the pro-gay preachiness did grate a bit every now and then (... and I say this as an out queer man myself).
The play starts out speculating what this picture of George at age 4, looking quite fetchingly fey, might indicate about his sexuality - which many people found to be a vile form of speculation, and which the play addresses head-on in its opening moments (as one character boldly states: “Frankly, I think we’ve been doing a terrible job at grooming. I mean look at how many straights there still are.”:
soooooooo good. strikes such a nice balance of absurd and lived in. feels very true, which is a big compliment for a self-proclaimed fairy tale. i really like the interstitial monologues!!! brecht is alive and does poppers confirmed!
Maybe a bit too ambitious for its own good, but it’s all very well done in the end. Plays like intellectual, self aware fanfic and it’s really cool.
A few notes Visibility isn’t the end goal of queer acceptance and queer politics. If the royals can’t even be gay how are we, the common people (oppressed and stolen from), supposed to do anything? And ultimately being queer is something that we simply are, not something that we have to explain philosophically (or dare I say conceptually).
I saw this off Broadway in November and have thought about it every day since. I came home and bought a copy, then had to wait for it to be printed. but it was worth it. I wanted to digest it slower and catch the moments when people were speaking over each other.
So worth the wait! This not only spoke to me at this stage in my life. It validated the queer kid hiding who he was. It brought to light the issues with my ex that were cultural and racial and led to the end of that relationship - among other reasons. I currently work in the recovery field and have to recognize that this also examines addiction - substances and sex.
I cried at the end of the performance and again at the end of reading it. I have not had such an emotional reaction to a piece of art in a long while. This has awoken a huge part of me and healed parts of me I thought were healed. This has been a year of growth and healing; 2025 has truly been a journey of self-actualization. I am thankful that this last-minute decision to see this play came into my life at this point. I am glad that I read it after to truly internalize even more from it.
This is an investigation into what it means to be queer, what it means to have the conflict between the heart and duty, what it means to struggle and come to terms and face the world. This was a stellar play. It is raw and visceral - and I don't want to sound cliche when saying that, but it's the truth. This gutted me in all the best ways. This also gave me a hope, strangely - I'll say no more to not spoil anything. This is sure to be a queer classic.
Prince Faggot is one of the most exciting, daring, inventive, and fresh plays I have seen in years. Reading Tannahill’s script brought all this back months after seeing the play at the Seaview theatre. The title alludes to the play’s unashamed looking into queerness and the messy complexities of a life lived in spite of heteronormative and patriarchal constructs. That characters each get to embody a duality—whom they represent in the central story of an adult Prince George and his lover, Dev, and their “real” selves (“real” in quotations because there’s a bit of meta theatricality at play where the characters offer scripted monologues designed to appear to be authentic representations of the actors themselves), those of Black, trans, and other marginalized identities—sets up a brilliant opportunity for various levels of discourse for the play to weave through. (It is critical that the only character not afforded this duality is George, the only white, cis male actor.) The play compellingly gatekeeps faggotry (who gets to be a part of that “family,” as Dev refers to it) in a similar way to how the monarchy has gatekept privilege; however, while the monarchy has made no pretence of inclusivity, faggotry (and queerness in general) holds inclusivity as a key value; I’m not sure if the play is aware that is making a comment on this demi-hypocrisy or not. This theme of limited, quasi-monolithic faggotry, plagues George throughout the play and seems to be the motivator behind increasingly risky behaviour; it’s unclear whether George engages in BDSM and chemsex culture to the extent that he does because of repressed desire, inherited shame from being a member of the British ruling class, an authentic want to participate, or some combination of any and all. The blurred lines between these motivations are something I wish the play teased out more, especially because the scene in which George is confronted for his behaviour by his father allows George to paint gayness as a monolithic culture about sex and drugs, a characterization that feels reductive and one-dimensional even as it is actively trying to portray the exact opposite. The play’s greatest strength is that there’s something in here that, I think, would cause discomfort for everyone—identifying what that is for oneself and having conversations with others about their particular discomforts creates a space for dialogue that brings different lived experiences into relationship with one another. That is theatre at its very best.
I found this distasteful. I get the argument put forth in the first scene, that children are sexualized to be heterosexual practically from birth, and that, yes sometimes you absolutely can tell as early as three or four that a child isn't going to fit into classic gender roles when they become an adult. And that they know it themselves, even if they don't have the vocabulary or cognition to know it fully they know that something makes them different from their school mates. God knows I did. My objection has nothing to do with "sexualizing" children or grooming or any of that other right wing bullshit.
But-this is still about a real person who as I write this, is probably just entering puberty, and was even younger when the play was conceptualized. And that boy has enormous pressure on him by virtue of the family he was born into. Adolescence is hard on anyone-imagine what it's like for a boy destined to be the King of England someday. And you can't have it both ways-you can't write a play like this about a real person who isn't even an adult yet and also hide behind "it's a fairy tale."
You could just as easily write this about a fictional prince and make your points. You don't have to use a real prepubescent for your own purposes without their acknowledgement or consent, consent they probably aren't even mentally capable of understanding all the implications of yet. This is the author hijacking someone's childhood for shock value.
Prince Faggot by Jordan Tannahill Is Heartbreaking.
This needs to be a stage production (near me) soon that I can enjoy. But until then I am happy to have read the script. It’s a beautiful meditation on assumed sexuality and one(very public) family’s repetitive trauma.
To be clear it’s not heartbreaking for the Prince but for the society and future that is presented not just for the Prince, but us: Nationally, Internationally, Environmentally, Socially, nothing is better. All because of the control the elite have over the public, and it seems the public has over them.
But in truth it’s just the loudest voices taking control and not the true/real. And that is what’s heartbreaking. A world where even the most well positioned must resort to hidden symbols to show their true wishes.
After a few years of royal fandom with The Crown, endless Diana stories, or other docu-dramas about this royal or another. Not to mention the news and historical impact from all of those from just one Victoria Royal line. And of course having English grandparents; one can see the echoes of the past still infesting the new generation with repeating consequences. Just let us all love who we want to love.
This play is for anyone that wishes to be heartbroken or cannot find a stage production. It should be a book club book! Must read!
I saw the play expecting it to be good but mostly light fun. From the opening monologues, I knew I was in for something different than what I’d gone in expecting. Amusing, yes, but also deeply moving and cathartic. I think the theater—shirtless vendor twink and predominantly gay men—was an integral part of the experience, not to mention the great performances of the actors involved, but there was something rewarding in reading the lines as written. The same catharsis of emotions I felt watching the play came through on the page, making me question and reevaluate so much about my own identity. Prince [british cigarette] surprised me and I think that’s one of the highest compliments I can give.
“Who here is divinely anointed? I ask you. Who here is chosen by god. I am. I am chosen by god. I am chosen by god. And better. I am chosen by those who love me.”
Sobbed. RIP Bertolt Brecht 100% you would’ve written this exact same play if you had seen the photo of Prince George admiring the helicopter.
This play captures such a specific energy of what I dream contemporary theatre to be. The Performers’ monologues are SO brilliant in the ways that they can only exist in the context of this play, and they’re so personal and cutting…. Unreal. Favorite of the year so far.
I’ve been thinking a lot about why plays are plays and not any other form of media when their stories could happen through any media. This is such a perfect play. It has to be a play, a beautiful, gay, sexy, powerful play.
Explicit, subversive, uncomfortable, and unapologetically queer. Definitely going to need to check out more from Jordan Tannahill - this is the kind of theatre that we need right now.
A master class creativity, and what it means when you use complexity in order to actually talk about something instead of saying, something is complex so that you can avoid dialogue
A fundamental misunderstanding of British politics. Decent story about how privilege factors into the queer experience. However it is also sexual fanfiction about a 12-year-old.