THEATRE INTERVIEW 2025
Conor O’Cuinn
looking for fun?
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LOOKING FOR FUN?
Written by Conor O'Cuinn
Directed by Tazy Harrison-Moore
CAST:
Conor O'Cuinn
THEATRE503
22 - 24 Jan 2025
Jan, 11, 2025
Looking for fun? is a raw and unflinching one-person play that dives into the world of online hookups, queer identity, and the pursuit of connection in an age of instant gratification. Through witty monologues, playful audience interaction, and moments of deep vulnerability, we follow Looking4fun—a young man navigating the highs and lows of hookup culture, sexual liberation, and the scars of loneliness and shame.
How’s it going, Conor? How does it feel to be bringing Looking for fun? back to London?
Hello! I’m doing well, thank you. It’s exhilarating to return to Looking for fun? after a year and a half. Revisiting it feels like catching up with an old friend—it’s familiar yet full of surprises. I’m excited to share how it’s evolved and hope it resonates with audiences even more this time.
You premiered your debut play at the 75th EdFringe, a city you're no stranger to. What was that experience like, being in the city with your show?
Edinburgh holds a very special place in my heart. I lived there for four years during university, and it’s where I grew both as a person and an artist. Premiering Looking for fun? at the Fringe felt like coming home. Edinburgh shaped me as an artist, and the city’s vibrancy and spirit deeply influenced the play. As Alexander McCall Smith wrote, 'This is a city of shifting light... so beautiful it breaks the heart again and again.' That captures the inspiration Edinburgh gives me, and I’d love to bring the play back there one day.
When the show was transferred to the Kings Head in 2022, Louise Penn wrote in her four-star review that Looking for fun? was ‘a strong and skilful show that deserves to be seen and discussed more widely.’ What has it meant to you to get this type of recognition for your debut play?
Receiving such thoughtful recognition has been surreal and humbling. When we began Looking for fun?, it was about telling an honest story and connecting with audiences. The feedback we’ve received has reinforced how meaningful those connections can be. I owe everything to the incredible team who made this journey possible—they’re the heart of every kind word said about the play.
Do you think there is a wider misunderstanding, from both straight and LGBTQ+ communities, about hookup culture?
Hookup culture is nuanced and deeply personal. What interests me is how private behaviours influence our public lives. Sometimes, the instant gratification we seek privately can shape our communal connections, creating a lack of empathy. This tension is central to the play.
What do you think we can do to address this somewhat dependence on apps like Grindr?
Grindr isn’t going anywhere, and honestly, I celebrate that. It’s a tool that has connected people, built communities, and fostered relationships that go far beyond the digital. My concern, though, is the erasure of physical queer spaces—places where LGBTQ+ people can gather and express themselves authentically. I’d love to see apps like Grindr complement these spaces rather than replace them, perhaps by encouraging a resurgence of communal, non-sexual aspects of queerness. There’s so much healing and joy in queer community beyond hookups, and I think we’re missing out when we forget that.
Can you tell me a little bit about how Looking for fun? came about?
‘I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.’ That famous line from A Streetcar Named Desire captures the yearning for empathy, intimacy, and connection that lies at the heart of Looking for fun? In many ways, my protagonist, looking4fun, is a modern-day Blanche Du Bois—a sensitive, feeling person searching for authenticity in a digital world they aren’t equipped to navigate.
Writing this play, I felt both inspired by and haunted by Streetcar. Its themes of desire, shame, and connection echo throughout my work, as does the spirit of Tennessee Williams—his queerness, his struggles, his sense of isolation. But Looking for fun? is also about the ghosts of the digital world; the fleeting, surreal nature of Grindr hook-ups and how the search for connection online can be both fantastical and devastating.
My love for plays like Angels in America and The Inheritance has also profoundly shaped my work. These stories connect me to the “queer ghosts” of the lost AIDS generation—figures whose presence I feel haunting my identity as a theatre-maker and a queer person. Initially, I set out to create a play that addressed the contemporary landscape of HIV/AIDS: celebrating advancements like PrEP while also confronting the stigma and prejudice that persist, even within the queer community.
With this play, I hope to explore a lineage of queer souls, past and present, and how we navigate intimacy in an age of instant gratification, where even connection can feel like a transaction as our deepest personal interactions are commodified.
During the writing process, was it cathartic in a way for you to reflect back at your past and experiences?
Looking for fun? was born out of my own journey as a young queer person searching for connection and community. Like many, my first point of contact with the queer world was through hookup apps like Grindr. The play emerged as both a personal exploration and a cry for something deeper—one that, to my joy, found resonance with the wonderful audiences who have supported us. One of my favourite scenes is when the protagonist, Looking4fun (a nod to his Grindr username), visits a barber shop. For many queer people, barbershops often feel like hyper-masculine, heteronormative spaces. Writing this scene allowed me to explore the dissonance of wearing a “mask” to fit in—a feeling many of us know all too well.
Since Looking for fun? premiered, has your text/performance changed much?
Oh massively. When we debuted at the Fringe, we had just five days to rehearse, so seeing the play grow and adapt has been thrilling. Each space we’ve performed in has shaped it differently—from a club, to the thrust stage at King’s Head to Bedlam Theatre. This latest version at Theatre503 feels like the most daring and creatively realised form yet.
What has been the biggest challenge you faced bringing Looking for fun? to the stage?
Self-producing a show that you have written and perform in was never going to be an easy task, and I’d be lying if I said it has been without its challenges, but having such a strong, hardworking, and dedicated core team has meant that every challenge has been taken on with grace and professionalism, and I can honestly say that every stage of this show has been without drama or stress because of the collaborative spirit the show has instilled within our small community as a creative team. As any freelancer reading this will surely relate to, the main challenge has been being able to balance working on the show with life, ensuring welfare and avoiding burnout, which unfortunately is part of the deal when committing yourself fully to art that you truly believe in and want to perfect.
How did you go about selecting the music that’s used throughout the show?
The song selections are mainly from the mastermind that is my director, Tazy Harrison-Moore. The music in the show has a dual nature of gay anthems from the 80s and 90s including Donna Summer, the Cocteau Twins, Pet Shop Boys, embodying a sense of recompense for the queer golden age and a longing for the pre-digital past. This is blended with more modern queer artists including Orville Peck and Black Math. Each song is carefully selected to reflect the quality of each moment, serving as a bridge between the realism and surreal elements of the play, allowing for a more expressive physical language of movement and dance, led by our movement director, Amelia Chinnock-Schumann.
"This play emerged from my mind as we all were emerging from a national lockdown, searching for community and connections."
And a bit of a tough one, but, of all the songs you use in the show, is there any one song that really connects with you and the message that you want to share with your play?
Give a Little Bit by the Goo Goo Dolls, the final song of the show, as the lyrics speak to both the audience and the central message of compassion, empathy, tenderness and connection in the show: “Give a little bit/Give a little bit of your love to me/Give a little bit/I'll give a little bit of my love to you/See the man with the lonely eyes/Take his hand, you'll be surprised“.
What has been your experience working with your director, Tazy Harrison-Moore, and how important would you say the creative collaboration between you both has been on this production?
This show has always been a labour of love and collaboration. Working with Tazy Harrison-Moore as director has been an incredible experience—she has such a sharp eye for detail and brings out nuances I hadn’t even realised were there. Over time, the show has evolved through input from our creative team, each run introducing new elements that enhance the storytelling. Our move to Theatre503 feels like the perfect next step; the space encourages intimacy and experimentation, which are so central to the play. Every performance feels like we’re building something new with the audience, and that dynamic keeps it fresh and alive.
Where did your passion for theatre come from?
My passion from theatre came from a very early age, subjecting my relatives to a performance at any given suitable opportunity, with my sister as my trusty overworked second actor and stage hand. I was soon yearning to be on a proper stage, and dived head-first into my local amateur dramatic scene, playing every and any child role I could get my hands on, soon landing myself the role of Michael Darling in my first professional job aged twelve in Peter Pan. That experience embodied for me everything that theatre was and could be – flying across London to Neverland, playing with pirates, believing in fairies (something I later found out to be true in my very own way...), and magic. As Blanche Du Bois herself says: I don’t want realism, I want magic!‘
Was there any advice you’ve been given as an actor/playwright that’s had a real impression on you?
Oof. I have had the privilege of learning from many teachers, mentors, friends and colleagues that there is too much to recount as it has informed so much of who I am. Something that sticks with me from drama school is a piece of wisdom a director who I greatly admired and was slightly terrified of whilst at LAMDA told me to not ever let anyone take away my power. And I think as a bright-eyed 18 year-old wanting to make everyone happy it took a while for this lesson to be learnt, and it is something I still am questioning and returning to. Those words unlocked something within me that allowed me to own my own space as an artist, and to take responsibility for my own welfare and how I allowed myself to be treated. As a writer, some of the most valuable lessons I have learnt, and still wrestle with, is to be as specific with my words and intentions as I possibly can, as that is where the magic lies.
Since Looking for fun?‘s first debut: What would you say has been the most valuable lesson you’ve taken from this production, and what stories are you looking to explore in the future?
The most valuable lesson I have taken from this production is to embrace the community around you. This play emerged from my mind as we all were emerging from a national lockdown, searching for community and connections.
In the future, I would love to explore stories that build on this theme (perhaps with more than one person onstage would achieve this!) and have a very specific lens. I have become increasingly aware of the responsibility we each owe to one another, layered with the responsibility of what it is to make live art and share that with people.
And finally, what do you hope your audiences will take away from Looking for fun?
Looking for fun? explores our shared longing for connection and belonging. Beneath the humour and Grindr pings lies a deep vulnerability we all experience. I hope audiences leave inspired to reflect on love and loneliness in our increasingly digital world—and to find tenderness and humanity in their connections.