The girls are fighting at the Gremlin Theatre. And by girls, of course, I mean four grown gay men, in Only Ugly Guys, a brutal and deceptively beautiful new play about the absurdity of contemporary queer relationships.
Only Ugly Guys is a four-act psychological sparring match from theater company Running Errands, written and produced by Kurt Engh and directed by Grant Sorenson. The plot, though rigorously developed, is less important than the show’s structure. Each act centers a different character in a chaotically interconnected foursome: Ciprian the demon twink (Trent Ramert), Adam the alternative cynic (Jack Oleg), Dean the himbo (Leo Rossmiller), and Brad the mainstream mascdaddy (Steve Mallers). Though the play shirks conventions, its central conflict is classic: None of these men have found the love they’re looking for.
They grapple with their desires through sex, drugs, and creatively relentless cruelty. The action thrusts from standard settings for gay farce to more unexpected places. We start at a Provincetown wedding and booming club, eventually ending up at an insurance corporation and a hot tub in cabin country. Beneath it all, the familiar cast of insidious media actors—TikTok, OnlyFans, podcasts, reality TV—pervade and calcify the ensemble’s fraught senses of self.
If the subject matter sounds exhaustingly familiar, I understand the trepidation. It’s hard to avoid trite, sloppy commentary on modern perils like dating apps, social media, and post-PrEP cruising culture. Recent film depictions of gay life like Fire Island and Bros strive for authenticity, but retain a stubborn rainbow veneer left behind by an “LGBTQ+ Stories” selection menu. They then undercut their point further by reproducing the very oppressive societal standards their characters lament.
In contrast, Only Ugly Guys captures a starkly lifelike tone, bearing comparison less to modern counterparts than to formally inventive classics like Andrew Holleran’s novel Dancer from the Dance. The show carries no pretense of narrative satisfaction, redemption, or justice for its characters. It doesn’t pander with a forced sense of coherence or respectability. Rather, we all get to delight in the sexy mess.
Engh’s script is hilarious, breakneck, and so profusely gay that it reads like a dialect. It exemplifies how much the amorphousness of gay identity owes to a ravenous consumption and regurgitation of media. Ramert’s brashly rendered performance as Ciprian especially packs in the references, cribbing constant quips and mannerisms from the baffling churn of gay internetspeak. “That’s your husband”; “That’s not the truth, Ellen”; “I went to Epstein Island and everyone knew you”; “#MeToo never made it to the gays”; skinny, skinny, skinny.
It’s almost uncanny to respond to this absurdly specific humor with laughter instead of a digital like. The communal response to these moments reminds the audience that the nebulous sense of queer community the characters seek does exist, in little ways, in the room with us.
Much of the play’s drama rides on this abundance of digital detritus. Farcical plot developments stem from covertly recorded voice memos and unfortunate AI interruptions. Despite this, the actors only ever pantomime the use of phones, a reminder that online decisions and speech are just as real as what’s said and done in person. A brilliant third act, focusing on Adam and Dean’s pornographic plight to take down PrEP-prescribing insurance companies, unfolds almost entirely through text messages. By the play’s shocking final reveal, “real life” evidently consumes both the on- and off-screen.
As smart as the play is, Only Ugly Guys really shows its heart through the four actors’ fittingly versatile and physical performances. Sorenson’s deft direction guides the cast through rapidly changing registers, sustaining the audience’s empathy in scenes that could easily veer into a maudlin or sadistic tone with less capable actors. Highlights include two Drag Race-caliber lip syncs, Rossmiller’s unflappable deadpan, and a stirring final monologue by Mallers. If the show has a flaw, it’s that Dean’s arc doesn’t quite hit the emotional heights of the other three guys. The standout, however, is Jack Oleg’s performance as Adam. Oleg brings a commanding and responsive energy to every scene, astoundingly naturalistic in their commitment to a diva’s theatricality.
Only Ugly Guys depicts a modern social reality where people can be surveilled and then dismissed through a swift block, swipe, or vicious public humiliation. The beauty underneath the ugliness is that the show presents four affecting and dignified gay characters who, through the good, bad, and ugly, don’t discard each other in the end. They owe each other something, if not love. Committing to members of their community grants the authenticity they go through such turmoil to achieve as individuals.
There is one small choice made in the play’s final monologue that elevates its excellence. Brad, recounting a clandestine Grindr hookup with a straight guy, imitates the other man’s tearful apology: “I’m real sorry you can’t get married anymore.” It’s an ultimate tonal shift that places this story on the cutting edge, eerie and startlingly familiar to the audience. The guys don’t miss a beat, though. That moment’s not a revelation—it’s their life. They keep on joking.
While Only Ugly Guys closed its run on September 27, Engh’s company Running Errands has more in store for even the most reluctant Twin Cities theatergoers. Just a quick browse of their website, complete with a manifesto, assures they’re not interested in showbiz as usual.
“When most other local shows feel bloodless or pandering, our work is intentionally provocative,” said Engh. “Our goal is to make theater for people who find theater to be boring, irrelevant, not for them.”
Past projects include Engh’s adaptation of Norwegian novel Naïve. Super and a pilot run of an earlier version of Only Ugly Guys. The group invites new collaborators in a quarterly short play series at the Hive Collaborative in St. Paul, also titled Running Errands, with their next performance on January 27. They will also stage a new play at the Southern Theater next August.
If Only Ugly Guys is any indication, Running Errands promises to deliver theater that reaches the full potential of live performance in a moment where it’s increasingly necessary to experience life offline. Don’t worry if you slip up, though. Keeping up with your scrolling might help you laugh a little harder at the next show.
