‘It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile. Be yourself no matter what they say’, is a lyric from ‘An Englishman in New York’, which Sting penned in homage to the inaugural debonaire dandy, Quentin Crisp. It also reads as one of the many mantras that non-conformist Quentin chose to live his life by. A natural raconteur and clearly at his happiest when all eyes are clapped firmly on him, Mark Farrelly takes to stage adorned with a purple rinse wig to convey Quentin Crisp: Naked Hope – a one man show recounting Quentin’s conventional Surrey upbringing to his many debauchery-filled escapades in 1970s Soho. The night began with Quentin professing that he’d “retired at birth”, swiftly followed by the notion that he can’t think of anything more ghastly than having to work for a living, a fate which he avoided as at all costs. Quentin Crisp: Naked Hope is a continuous flow of witty societal observations and wry-infused quips.

It came as no great surprise to discover that as well as starring in the work Farrelly also wrote it. Every line was delivered with such conviction that it radiated his intense admiration and duty to attempt to mimic Quentin’s charismatic manner and eccentric nature. One of Quentin Crisp: Naked Hope’s defining characteristics was the endless stream of aphorisms, which although were cutting and chuckle-inducing, the sheer quantities employed in such quick succession meant that many began to lose their impact and in parts hindered any clear narrative progression or thread.

Thankfully any momentum and substance that the first part of the piece lacked was redeemed in the section that followed. The structural division was marked by a short burst of Sting’s ‘An Englishman in New York’ and Farrelly swapping the purple rinse number for a more distinguished grey coiffure. Now in his seventies and living in New York, Quentin was, by his own admission, a “senile delinquent”. Celebrated for quintessentially English eccentricities, Quentin treats us to one of his lectures, crammed with his inimitable aplomb. Due to failing eyesight Quentin enlists a member of the audience to help him read aloud some of the audience’s questions. Needless to say, the audience member is soon as red in the face as the rouge that adorns Farrelly’s cheeks and lips. Aside from swapping headpieces, as the elder Quentin Crisp Farrelly’s whole physicality and overall presence changes, he is now hunched over and reflective of being in the autumn of his life and approaching the end of his days. The younger and more sprightly Quentin from earlier in the evening commented “I never do anything I don’t want to, except grow old”, suddenly seemed to have acquired a new level of profound poignancy.

Prior to seeing Quentin Crisp: Naked Hope I had of course heard of Quentin Crisp but knew very little about the man behind the eponymous name. Farrelly brings Crisp’s flamboyant nature to life in a captivating manner, depicting him as everyone’s ideal dinner party guest.

Quentin Crisp: Naked Hope is playing at St James Theatre until 7 September. For tickets and more information please see the St James Theatre website.