Only in New York, honey. A new off-Broadway play is making royal heads spin — and not in a good way. Prince F**t, a theatrical fever dream from Canadian playwright Jordan Tannahill, sets its sights on the year 2032, imagining a queer adult version of Prince George, the 11-year-old son of Prince William and Princess Catherine, as a gay man entangled in a steamy, subversive romance with an Oxford-educated Indian boyfriend named Dev.
In case you’re wondering — yes, it goes there. We’re talking nudity, chemsex, BDSM, the whole royal court of queer taboos. But while the queer community has often applauded boundary-breaking art, this show has critics fuming not over the content, but the context: the real Prince George is still very much a child. Naming him outright, especially in a piece dripping with explicit themes, has been called creepy, exploitative, and just plain “ick.”
Blurring the Line Between Art and Exploitation
John McCrea (of Everybody’s Talking About Jamie fame) steps into the crown as the fictionalized Prince, with Mihir Kumar (And Just Like That) as his dashing romantic counterpart. Directed by Shayok Misha Chowdhury, the production bills itself as “a fairy tale” spun by a queer and trans ensemble reckoning with power, colonization, and identity through the lens of one of the most privileged families on Earth.
Tannahill defends the show as “meta-theatrical satire,” emphasizing that the focus isn’t actually Prince George, but rather what it means to imagine a royal heir as queer. “The ensemble are the leads,” he argues. “It’s about the ways colonization has shaped our lives… and why, so often, we don’t talk about queer childhood.”
But critics — and a storm of Reddit commenters — aren’t buying it. “Is it right to essentially write fan fiction about a real child?” one user asked. “It just feels gross.” Another called it “provocative for the sake of provocation,” suggesting that using a fictional royal — Ă la Red, White & Royal Blue — would’ve sidestepped the ethical minefield.
LGBTQ Commentary: When Bold Goes Too Far?
Let’s be clear: queer art has always lived on the edge. From drag queens reclaiming Catholic imagery to gender-bending adaptations of Shakespeare, LGBTQ creatives know how to stir the pot. But the queer community also understands boundaries — especially when it comes to children.
By centering a play on a real-life minor — and one bound to inherit immense symbolic power — Prince F**t risks alienating the very audience it seeks to represent. Yes, it’s important to critique monarchy, whiteness, and heteronormativity. But when those critiques latch onto an actual, living child who can’t defend himself, the message gets muddled.
Still, the show’s defenders say it’s asking hard questions: Why are we so uncomfortable imagining queer futures for public figures? Why is queer adolescence still taboo? And who gets to decide which stories can be told?
For many in the LGBTQ world, Prince F**t is a glittery, problematic mess — but one that forces a conversation we often avoid. And if we’re going to tell queer fairy tales, maybe we just need to write new ones altogether, instead of reworking old royal bloodlines.