Perhaps there are people out there who don’t know that Grindr is a gay ‘dating’ app and are blithely unaware of the culture which has spawned from this smartphone phenomenon. This production is not aimed at that naïve demographic, but serves as a satire, cautionary tale and a timely mirror for the app’s 15m users across the globe.
Last year Grindr released stats in which the UK emerged as the global leader for self-identified ‘fem tops’ while Ireland recorded the highest proportion of users listing themselves as ‘bears’. The most searched tag globally was ‘hung’. Madonna recently used the app to launch her new album, and it’s reported that cities experienced a 4% spike in usage when Lady Gaga’s Monster Ball came to town. The app may be re-shaping our neural pathways and it’s definitely affecting the way we meet and treat each other.
On the serious downside, the app is used to entrap gay men in countries where homosexuality is illegal. Grindr has also been cited as a conduit for sexual assault, blackmail and drug use- specifically crystal meth. The serial killer Stephen Port is usually referred to as the ‘Grindr Killer’ as he used the app to find his victims. Racism, body fascism and toxic masculinity are endemic on this platform and continue to be debated with weary fury. This level of drama, ethical conflict and tragedy associated with the app might explain why writer Erik Ransom decided the topic would be best explored via an X-rated opera that’s jarringly dark, while being outrageously camp. Somewhat surprisingly, it works a treat.
Erik Ransom (Composer/Librettist) has included nods to Verdi, Wagner and ancient Greek theatre. In the superbly Medieval opening of the show, incantations of Latin seep from the shadows of robed figures. Ransom gives glimpses of high art aspirations, but in the programme, he hopes the audience will find the show, ‘at least as enjoyable as your most recent wank’. He’s done the homework but opted for a vibe that’s more Grabbys than Glyndbourne. This is a production that’s defiant, provocative and highly original.
Christian Lunn returns to the title role of Grindr, a mythical, malevolent deity who toys with the lives of lustful mortal men. Lunn originated the character in 2018 and received an Off West End nomination for Best Actor in a musical in 2019. Lunn brings the operatic vocals and a compelling performance. A demi-drag fusion of Damien the Omen and Frank-N-Furter, Lunn’s otherworldly presence has a stop-motion physicality, akin to an animated monster from a Ray Harryhausen movie.

The Grindr god watches over the human fools, which include Devon (Patrick Barrett) and Tom (Kane Verrall). These men meet on the app but fall in love and move in together. This cruise-free romance infuriates Grindr, who seethes in frustration when they embrace monogamy and abandon random endless sex quests.
Recently sprung from Italia Conti, Will Joel plays Jack, a sexually precocious twink who the audience meet when he sings the jaw dropping song, ‘Cum Dumpster’. The aria opens with the line, ‘I wanna get seeded, I wanna get breeded/If you’ve got a big cock, I need it, need it’. It’s an unsubtle and shocking ditty, but it’s an entirely accurate reflection of the lingua franca and brutal culture of the busiest gay app on the planet.
When Jack goes to hotel room for a date with lecherous older man Don (Dereck Walker), the play highlights the moral ambiguities that can spill from online hook-ups. Sex work, consent, fetishised strangulation, the danger of strangers and the curse of the closet are all explored in a scene that is both frivolous and grim. Walker throws himself into the role of pantomime villain with impressive gusto. His conviction and passion render the character utterly believable and at times, almost sympathetic.
Trogodorium (Oliver Cartwright) and Versipellis (Will Loader) deserve a special shout out as Grindr’s minxy sidekicks, acting as Greek chorus and saucy, sequinned cherubs. With operatic melodrama, the four main characters are given an unlikely, but hilarious denouement.
The set design by David Shields serves gothic cathedral windows at the rear, and digital doorframes downstage. The 4 Grindr users and their online chats were well served by this LED framing. William Spencer’s choreography and direction shows both discipline and attention to detail, especially with limitations of the space. One can only imagine how spectacular this show could be with a big budget and room for its ironic grandiosity.
Erik Ransom deserves massive credit for this an anarchic and subversive show. It’s trite, filthy and camp, but the concept, with its classical references elevates it above the cheeky nonsense one might assume from the title. It’s low-budget, silly and skips over many of the huge issues that Grindr culture has brought to the LGBTQ community. Despite that, it’s reflective, sharply observed and shamelessly entertaining. It’s definitely more rewarding and way less likely to cause harm than the inescapable app which inspired its creation.
Grindr the Opera at Union Theatre until 19th July 2026, Union Theatre
Reviewer: Stewart Who?
Reviewed: 27th June 2026
North West End UK Rating: