Camden Fringe 2025: Second Class Queer at Theatro Technis

31^st July 2025

Maggie O'Shea

Maggie O'Shea

31 July 2025

The beauty of niche festivals like the Camden Fringe is getting to hear unique stories from all walks of life, including those that might be overlooked by the mainstream. Kumar Muniandy’s charming and thoughtful Second Class Queer, for example, covers race relations, queer expression, self-hatred and the male g-spot – all in 60 minutes.

Writer, director and star of the one-man show, Muniandy portrays Tamil-Malaysian man Krishna. Now living in Berlin, Krishna has been finagled by a friend into joining a speed dating night for gay men. All we know of these potential suitors is their disembodied voices piped in from off-stage; it is through Krishna’s responses that the story begins to unfold. In his own words, he tells of his upbringing in Malaysia and the difficulty of living as a closeted gay man in a country where homosexuality is still a crime. While the ignorant (if sometimes well-intentioned) white folk raise Krishna’s ire, other conversations lead to interesting reflections on privilege, trauma and self-acceptance.

The strongest element of the show is undoubtedly Muniandy’s performance. He’s a charismatic, naturalistic presence on stage and has a watchable quality that keeps the show engaging. He’s also funny – in amongst the serious subject matter are some decent gags, covering topics like the prevalence of sex shops in Berlin and Westerners’ obsession with finding themselves in India. The humour makes Krishna a likeable and relatable lead; his curiosity and empathy towards his dates make his righteous anger about their shortcomings feel even more justified.

The neatly segmented narrative structure created through the blind date format offers a good skeleton for the story, but it does make some of the conversations feel contrived, especially early on. The hot-but-dumb Brit and the conveniently colour-blind German, while representing racist attitudes that undoubtedly persist in reality, feel slightly too cartoonish. Their lines too perfectly set Krishna up for his counterarguments (articulate and cathartic though they may be). Even the (self-described) overweight Muslim man speaks in phrases that would be more at home in a university debate than on a first date, quickly jumping to language like “thin privilege”.

But the show’s nuance deepens as it goes on, with Krishna’s dates presenting more complex personalities and the depths of his own grief coming to light. While it’s enjoyable to watch Krishna smartly shoot down racist stereotypes, it’s even more interesting to see him learn and grow from his interactions, whether it’s picking up tips for his love life or getting advice on how to cope with loss (or even learning about the art of self-forgiveness from a fairly insufferable wannabe yogi). The moving final scenes offer a satisfying conclusion that leaves us hopeful for this character Muniandy has so effectively endeared us to.

Maggie O Shea
Photos: Courtesy of Second Class Queer

Second Class Queer is at Theatro Technis from 30^th July until 1^st August 2025. For further information or to book, visit the theatre’s website here.