Russell T Davies has been my storytelling hero ever since that infamous “salad tossing” scene during the opening moments of his 1999 breakthrough, Queer As Folk. Bold, sexy, and unapologetically in your face (literally!), he took queer storylines to a whole new level and turned me into a Davies disciple. His subsequent works like Cucumber, Banana, A Very English Scandal, Years And Years, and especially the gut-wrenching It’s A Sin, have only served to irrevocably bury me deeper into his cult. Along with other talented creators like Vince Gilligan and Noah Hawley, I will follow Davies down whatever rabbit hole he chooses to go. Hippity! Hoppity! Hop!
All of this is to say, imagine my dropped jaw, fast beating heart, and perhaps, yes, a trail of saliva dripping off my chin when his latest mini-series, Tip Toe, landed in my inbox. I can’t think of anyone better to update the world on the queer experience than Davies, and, my friends, he’s not pussyfooting around with this outing.
Tip Toe stars Alan Cumming as Leo Struthers, a gay man of a certain age who runs a Manchester gay bar called the Spit & Polish (!) and lives next door to Clive Goss (David Morrissey) and his family. While Leo’s out and proud, Clive epitomizes toxic hetero masculinity. When the show opens, we witness a particularly gruesome tableau which we don’t fully understand, and then flashback to 10 days prior. Here, we witness the inciting incident, something so seemingly innocuous but a powder-keg nonetheless. A one night stand absconds with a laptop from Leo’s brownstone, causing our poor protagonist to chase after him clad only in a tank top and briefs. Accidentally locking himself out, he knocks on Clive’s door and asks to borrow his phone in order to call his bestie, Stephanie (an incredible Elizabeth Berrington). She’s the kind of labrador who will drop everything to rescue her pal. Clearly uncomfortable with Leo’s state of undress, Clive helps out as fast as possible, anything to send this out there gay man on his way. Clive lives with his less than adoring wife Marie (the stellar Pooky Quesnel), his teenage son George (Jackson Connor) and young adult son Saul (Joseph Evans) and has designated himself the King Of The Patriarchy. This brief encounter between our two main characters sets off an intricately woven chain of events which will lead us back to the mayhem of the opening shot in the span of 5 tight episodes.
One could easily retitle this show When Microaggressions Become Macro as Davies, along with his extremely talented director, Peter Hoar, turn the screws on this story so deliberately and deliciously. Despite the show’s very dark nature, it’s a joy to watch. Much of the credit goes to Cumming as he relishes the chance to play a man who will no longer put up with any form of homophobia. After a lifetime of being bullied and marginalized, and now somewhat safe in his gay bubble, Leo has learned to speak up and fight back. After their initial run-in, Leo and Clive’s lives intersect with much more frequency, sometimes lightly such as when Leo hires Clive to fix the electrical problems at his pub and other times more severely in the moments when Leo gets too involved in the young Goss mens’ lives.
Although Davies has always worn his heart on his sleeve, Tip Toe feels like a sea change for him. Much like Leo, Davies has clearly reached a point in his life where he no longer has any f*cks left to give. As such, this show features very little subtext. Instead, we get text with a capital T. Cumming has many stunning speeches, mostly hurled in Clive’s direction, none more potent than in the series’ penultimate episode. Davies script states its case very clearly, as if he were channeling Howard Beale from the movie Network. Leo is “as mad as hell and he’s not gonna take it anymore!” Viewers may find this lack of subtlety off-putting, especially in the finale, which admittedly escalates perhaps a tad too rapidly. But Davies clearly intended this and makes the point that the world can turn upside down at a moment’s notice, especially for us queer folk. Where Tip Toe faltered slightly for me was in the series of end title cards, where Davies lays things on a little too thick. He doesn’t care. He wants to slam us against the back of our comfy sofas and wake us the hell up now! I applaud that.
Through it all, we get astounding performances from our two leads. Cumming invests his Leo with such fiery passion and despair. When he blows up, you feel the years of bottled emotions spewing forth. For his part, Morrissey stalks this world like a wounded animal, always ready to spring. Davies, however, wisely gives us an episode in which Clive’s backstory touchingly allows us to see the man he could have become.
The supporting cast bring a lot to the table as well, with Jackson Connor giving us a glorious peek into the life of a gay newbie as he lets loose, and in one thrilling moment we feel his freedom as he walks through a very queer party. Joseph Evans also pops off the screen as a cam boy with zero inhibitions. Pooky Quesnel has a stunning scene with Morrissey in which she boldly confronts him about the state of their characters’ marriage. Paul Rhys nearly walks away with the whole series as Melba, an Old Queen who haunts Leo’s bar and unforgettably lays out the meaning of the show’s title. Instead of detailing how far we’ve come as a culture, Melba’s speech seems to spell doom for us all.
While neither pretty nor uplifting, Tip Toe couldn’t feel more relevant. With the far right clearly out to destroy the LGBTQ+ community, so many of us don’t feel safe anymore, and for good reason. It’s not safe, and sometimes it takes a true artist like Russell T. Davies to scream it from the rooftops.
By Glenn Gaylord, Senior Film Critic
Tip Toe is currently streaming on STARZ in the United States and on Channel 4 in the UK.
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