Quentin Crisp isn’t an instantly recognisable name these days, even within the LGBTQI community.

This is something of a tragedy, because for the majority of the 20th century, Crisp was the epitome of individuality. Starting his career as an androgynous nude model in 1930s London, he eventually became a controversial gay icon, a writer, and an infamously opinionated, witty and eccentric character.

Helpmann Award-winner Paul Capsis will be embodying Crisp this month in the one-man show, Resident Alien. Written by Tim Fountain, this intimate night at the theatre invites audiences into Crisp’s New York apartment to chat about life from his unique perspective. It’s the role of a lifetime for Capsis – not only because of its specific demands, but also because of his personal admiration for Crisp.

“He is important to me because he made me realise that homosexuals have always existed since God made Adam and Steve,” says Capsis. “Quentin was an arm stretching back in time, where I couldn’t imagine people like him ever existing. It’s one of the most challenging roles I have ever undertaken. I have to appear in my underclothes, for goodness sake, and inhabit the skin of a 90-year-old, to speak as him. Not to mention all the lines and philosophies of Mr. Crisp that he himself has said and wrote, that I have memorised … I take two hours to become him every night.”

The LGBTQI community is growing stronger and more inclusive every day, despite the hatred and challenges it still faces from certain groups and individuals. Rather tragically, despite being iconic for his homosexuality, Crisp never felt welcomed during his lifetime.

“Back in the day, when it was just a simple ‘H’ for ‘homosexual’ or ‘Q’ for ‘queer’ – now we have the entire alphabet to deal with,” says Capsis. “When Quentin first went to London in the 1930s, he found himself in the company of a group of effeminate homosexual men who were prostitutes, and Quentin himself had become a prostitute. He didn’t know there were gay men who acted and behaved like ‘real’ men until much later. He was dismayed when he was rejected by the underground illegal gay establishments because of his obvious effeminacy. As far as community is concerned, I don’t think Mr. Crisp felt at all part of any such thing. He was alone really. It was his choice to be a one-man protest, even though he didn’t believe in protest. And he didn’t believe in relationships either.”

This rejection certainly didn’t breed conformity within Crisp. He was known for being outspoken with his opinions and commentary, even when it got him into hot water, such as ridiculing Princess Diana and saying AIDS was “just a fad”.

“Mr. Crisp got into a lot of trouble with his views on AIDS at the time,” says Capsis. “He never changed as a person. He told it as he saw it, and it’s just unfortunate that a lot of people were hurt by his opinions. They forget that he was true to himself to the end, he was unflinching in the way he saw the world. He never tried to appease or win over any group – he was the real deal. No political correctness for him.

“He never felt part of any community. He never asked to be hailed or worshipped by any group. No-one was more surprised than he when the world suddenly took notice of him and wanted to know his views on every subject. This happened from about 1975 – when asked, he gave them as honestly as he knew how. He didn’t censor himself. He was courage personified. In America at the time, the gay community turned on him after hailing him a saint. He kept living, breathing, blinking and meeting strangers.”

By “meeting strangers”, Capsis doesn’t mean Crisp was simply greeting fans and signing autographs. He took fame to a whole new level.

“Mr. Crisp was one of the most unconditional people on the planet Earth. He would talk to absolutely anyone. He liked people and he was listed in the phone book and met with anyone who wanted to meet him – even those who promised to murder him! He would ask what time best suited the meeting – the other person always had to pay for the coffee and lunch, of course. In fact, Mr. Crisp existed in a time when people actually met in real time, not in this cyber unreal time. Today we have the impression we are connected, but in fact, we are supremely disconnected. This is in my own view and how I see the world today. The internet has separated us. I think Mr. Crisp would be disheartened by today’s world.

“One thing about Mr. Crisp is he didn’t believe in political correctness at all, and I do admire him for that. Today we are shutting down conversation due to political correctness. I admire his courage to be himself at all costs. It’s something that I try to do in my own life – be myself at all costs – and you do indeed pay a price for that, even today. Not that I’m bothered. In some countries in the world today, gay men are executed for being themselves – that bothers me.”

With such a huge character to portray, and a lifetime of incredible stories and opinions, the audience can take high expectations into Resident Alien. “It’s solid Crisp-isms from beginning to end,” says Capsis. “Mr. Crisp is going out to meet Mr. Brown and Mr. Black, and we meet him in his apartment in New York and he talks to us as he dresses … the rest is a big surprise. Trigger warning: [expect] bandages, filth, soiled sheets and Mr. Crisp’s many wonderful philosophies. Oh, and a hairstyle to die for.”

Paul Capsis appears in Resident Alien atSeymour Centre, running Tuesday July 12 – Saturday July 23.

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