Why a 1980s Story About Miners and LGBTQ+ Activists Might Be the Show We Need Today
Let me tell you why I’ve been obsessively thinking about a musical set in 1984. No, it’s not Nineteen Eighty-Four—it’s Pride, a show that connects Thatcher-era Britain to our current chaos in ways that feel unnervingly intentional. On paper, it’s about a gay activist named Mark Ashton forming an alliance with Welsh miners during their strike. But peel back the surface, and this production is a masterclass in how history repeats itself—and how we might break the cycle.
The Unlikely Alliance That Changed Everything
Here’s the basic setup: A 24-year-old LGBTQ+ organizer convinces his peers to support striking miners in South Wales. Why? Because both groups were being crushed by the same system. At first glance, this sounds like a heartwarming underdog story. But what fascinates me is the deeper truth: marginalised communities often find solidarity in the most unexpected places. The miners were fighting for their livelihoods; the LGBTQ+ activists were battling stigma and state neglect during the AIDS crisis. Neither group had the power alone, but together? They became a cultural earthquake.
Personally, I think this dynamic reveals something we’re still grappling with today: the illusion of separation between social justice movements. When Ashton’s group sent money to the miners, they weren’t just being charitable—they were recognizing a shared enemy. That enemy wasn’t just Thatcher’s policies, but a worldview that pits struggling groups against each other. Sound familiar?
Why the 1980s Setting Isn’t Just Nostalgia
Let’s talk about the time period. 1984 wasn’t just a random year for this story—it was a breaking point. The coal industry collapse, the rise of AIDS, and the erosion of workers’ rights created a perfect storm. But here’s the twist: the show isn’t wallowing in despair. It’s celebrating resilience through music that blends disco, rock, and Welsh choral traditions. In my opinion, this musical choice isn’t just clever—it’s radical. By mashing together these genres, the creators are saying: Our differences are our strength.
What many people miss is that this isn’t a historical curiosity—it’s a mirror. We’re living through a new era of crises: climate disasters, economic inequality, and a global rise in authoritarianism. And just like in 1984, the solutions won’t come from isolated efforts. The show’s soundtrack, which I’ve now listened to three times straight, feels like a blueprint for how art can bridge divides. It’s not subtle, but it doesn’t need to be. Subtlety won’t save us.
The Real Message: Kindness Isn’t Passive
The marketing calls this a “celebration of the surprising power of kindness.” That sounds sweet, but I’d argue it’s dangerously understated. The kindness depicted here isn’t polite smiles or charity drives—it’s radical empathy. It’s risking your reputation to stand with people who smell of coal dust and disinfectant. It’s recognizing that your fight against police brutality overlaps with someone else’s fight for a living wage.
A detail that stands out to me is how the show’s creators—direct from the original Pride film team—are framing this as a “glorious spectacle.” Why glorify hardship? Because they’re challenging our obsession with individualism. From my perspective, this isn’t just theater—it’s a political act. Every glittery disco beat is a reminder that joy can be revolutionary when shared.
What This Means for 2024
Here’s the uncomfortable question the show forced me to ask: Are we repeating the 1980s because we never learned the lesson? The miners lost their strike. The AIDS crisis claimed thousands. But the solidarity they built? That legacy still burns. In an age of algorithm-driven outrage and performative activism, Pride dares to say: Real change happens when we stop scrolling and start showing up—with money, time, and maybe even a terrible dance move or two.
I’ll admit it: I’m tired of art that doesn’t challenge me. This musical isn’t perfect—it probably has a few cheeseball moments that’ll make purists cringe. But it’s doing something bolder than perfection. It’s asking us to look at our fractured world and say: What if the answer isn’t more division, but less? What if kindness isn’t the result of progress, but the catalyst? That’s not just a message from 1984. It’s a demand for today.
