Theatre Reviews 2019
Towards Zero
at the Altrincham Garrick
Towards Zero was written by the Queen of Crime, Agatha Christie, first published as a novel in 1944 and reworked as a play a decade later. It revolves around a summer gathering of friends and family at the lavish home of a wealthy widow, Lady Tressilian, a frail, but sprightly and spirited gal, hilariously played by Garrick veteran, Pat Williamson, who delivers some classic one-liners. “You should never let your affairs interfere with your marriage.” (I suspected her straight away.)
Her ward, Neville, is played by David Glover, who shows a wide range of naturalistic acting. (I suspected him straight away.) He rather awkwardly brings his current wife (Lara Hancox) and ex-wife (Arianna Glenton) along with friend and lethario, Ted (Ben Moser). (I suspected all of them.) Thomas (Chris Catney) is the spurned lover of Neville’s first wife, a young man who lives in the shadow of his much better looking and more successful (and dead) brother. (I really suspected him.) Then there’s wise old Mr Treves (David Reynolds), trusted family friend – and possible murderer? Last but not least, we have Lady Tressilian’s hard working, long suffering aide, Mary, (Lindsey Barker). (I suspected her immediately.)
We’ve got a lot of wealthy but fractious people in one place, we’ve got a rambling and isolated location on a Cornish river estuary, we’ve got envies, resentments and acrimony… we’ve got summer sunshine, but there is evil under the sun.
The first half does contain a lot of sometimes rather clunky exposition. All the characters and their backstories are laid before the audience and it can be somewhat overwhelming and confusing as a barrage of names, relationships, inter-relationships and situations are fired at you in rapid succession. It’s too easy to get bogged down and lose track of who married who and who divorced who, when and why. This is not a criticism of the engaging cast at all, who all performed ably and indeed admirably. The characters are all very clearly delineated and – thanks largely to their excellent portrayals – it all starts to fall into place.
This is a period piece in more ways than one. It was written in a different era, when people could sit through something longer than a viral video on Facebook. It unfolds gradually, probably too gradually for most audiences today, but that’s also part of the beauty of it. It’s an Agatha Christie, it does what it’s supposed to do and almost follows a formula. Thankfully, there is no attempt to bring it up to date, which has seldom worked. It is set proudly, unmistakably in the past and the wardrobe department have gone to town… and come back with a plethora of vintage costumes. The men are always dapper in a variety of formal or casual suits, and the woman are vibrant in an array of florid and sometimes gaudy dresses and trouser suits, creating an effective feeling of yesteryear.
With the characters established, the in-fighting, backbiting, bitterness, breakdowns, and threats ensue… and by the end of this endless night one of the assembled players has an appointment with death. In the morning a murder is announced: someone has been brutally bludgeoned in the night… and one of their number is a murderer.
Part two involves the police investigation and the various suspects being interviewed, as they fall under the moving finger of suspicion. This was, unfortunately, less tight than the first half had been, with a few pauses and a few fluffs, but it was still hugely enjoyable. I felt sure I’d worked out who the murderer was; I thought this repeatedly and was wrong every time. I won’t give the game away, but the actor playing the murderer was fantastic. When required he – or she – changed into an obvious, but still credible villain. There is an unexpectedly exciting and action-packed finale, which was absolutely thrilling, including some very well-staged physical acting, a bit of a tussle and a few punches thrown, all incredibly well-executed. The audience were loving it.
If you don’t like Agatha Christie and aren’t a fan of the whodunit genre, then this probably won’t appeal to you, but if you do, then it’s a beautifully indulgent treat. It delivers everything an Agatha Christie should deliver and at the climax, quite a bit more. The wonderful cast make it look like murder is easy. Incredibly enjoyable.
Reviewed: 23rd September 2019.
Reviewer: Gray Freeman
NWE Star Rating: **** (4 stars)
Danny and the Deep Blue Sea
At Hope Mill
Roberta (Hannah Ellis Ryan) and Danny (Danny Solomon) meet in a near-deserted downtown bar. They both dislike and distrust people and shy away from human interactions, but both are inexplicably drawn to each other, possibly because they recognise a kindred and damaged spirit. They begin an aggressive conversation. Danny is quick-tempered and violent. He is covered with bruises, and fears he might have killed a man. Roberta’s past involved child abuse in the form of paedophilia incest, which she instigated, leaving her with feelings of guilt and self-loathing. On the surface, both characters are hostile and unlikeable, but as details of their troubled pasts emerge, we grow to understand why they behave the way they do.
They spar, verbally and physically. Surprisingly, there is some humour in their volatile exchanges. As the shouting and hitting abates, they inevitably embark on a one night stand and drunkenly make plans for a future together. Here, there are moments of genuine tenderness and real glimpses of hope, that possibly they will manage to turn their lives around.
While most of the dialogue is naturalistic, there are a few moments that could have been clunkily embarrassing, such as Roberta’s speech about the sea, but fortunately, Hannah Ellis Ryan imbues it with a credibility and resonance that it would otherwise lack. Danny Solomon reveals that behind his character’s gruff aggression, there is a surprising and endearing gentleness, and both disparate sides are very believable. The plot is really very simple. I think it’s fair to say the strength of the show is in the performances; they act their pants off. The American accents are very credible, the aggression is palpable and the physical acting – the slapping and violence – is very well executed. (And probably very painful.)
As a two-handed piece, the leads are on the stage all the time; the whole play is made up of their dialogue and interactions in the space of less than a day. It is an immensely intense and powerful piece and certainly the right length at just over an hour. It is a love story and a hate story. And the hate is directed within, more so than at the other person. It is a taut and forceful insight into other people's troubled lives.
Reviewer: Gray Freeman
Reviewed: 11th Sept 2019
North West End star **** rating: (4 stars)
“The Community Centre”
at The King’s Arms
“The Community Centre” is a gentle comedy full of colourful characters. It is set – obviously – in a community centre in a rough area, the centre of the community, the heart in a heartless place, where a group of regulars gather to spend their days socialising and saving money on their fuel bills.
Writer, Nicola Gardner, plays larger than life receptionist/manager, Patience, who is a pure joy. She swaggers and sways, is feline and vampish and full of sassy personality. She addresses the audiences and flirts outrageously. She shops at international shops. (Netto, Lidl and Aldi.) They call her the Black Marilyn Monroe and to prove this, she performs a seductive and breathy “Happy Birthday, Mr President” on a reluctant and decidedly uncomfortable caretaker, which is a show stealing moment. (Whoever “they” are, they’re right: she really is a black Marilyn Monroe.)
Nicola is also a stand-up comedian, which really shows. She has great rapport with the audience and huge confidence. The other character she plays is evangelical pensioner, Sister Richards, who lusts shamelessly after many – or any – black men in the media, but her TennaLady gets in the way. (She passes water at six o'clock every morning... But doesn't wake up until seven.) She is accompanied by three other elderly patrons, the loveably innocent Sister Johnson ( Deborah Colphon), Brother Leroy (Tony McPherson) and Brother Myers (Andrew George). They are a comedy quartet with ripe accents, full of Jamaican jubilance and exuberance, smiling and laughing and generally spreading joy. The four old timers are all young, but convincingly old. That's called acting!
The other regulars are two skiving workers, drippy Anisha (Alex Kapila) and rough Bev (Janet Lilley), who put me in mind of characters from Victoria Wood's dinnerladies sitcom as they discuss men, abortive relationships and blind dates.
Finally, occasionally shuffling through with his mop, is caretaker Robbie, a white Rasta with dreadlocks, ably portrayed by Liam Grunshaw, who adopts an excellently authentic accent, though when he gets stressed, Robbie drops back into his native broad Mancunian. He lopes and skanks: "born in a white body, but a black man underneath." He occasionally sings a few lines from his idol, Bob Marley, and he has a beautiful voice.
This is very much a feel good show. I smiled all the way through. It is fairly consistently funny, gently comedic, with several really hilarious moments. Some of the humour comes directly from the performances, especially with Patience, who is really restricted to a few walk-on parts, but every time she appears she owns the stage and the audience. At first, I felt we should be seeing more of her, because she is hugely entertaining, but I think it was probably a clever ploy to hold back such a strong, forceful and upfront character, because less is more. Patience is immense fun. She's outrageous, contagious and highly addictive.
“The Community Centre” is multi-cultural; the cast is multi-talented. My only criticism – and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a play that this doesn’t apply to – is that it is a bit on the long side. It is in the region of an hour and forty minutes and – while it doesn't drag – I would prefer it to be shorter. There's no play that I don't think could benefit from being shorter and tighter.
There is a running background theme of concern over citizenship and deportation, which addresses very real, current fears. I thought we were heading towards a very negative culmination, but Instead it ended very happily with the whole cast singing Bob Marley’s “One Love”.
The play is a day in the life of the community centre and tomorrow will be another similar day for the regulars. There are no big, dramatic plot revelations: it just simmers with constant humour. The moral of the story is that we're better off in a community, we’re better off being with other people and sharing our problems, so – in the words of Bob Marley – and the cast – “let's get together and feel alright”.
Reviewed: 8th August 2019.
Reviewer: Gray Freeman
NWE Star Rating: **** (4 stars)
Talk to Yourself
At the King’s Arms, Salford
This is an artistic trilogy: a monologue, a painting and music. (Although the publicity info states it will be a cello, it is in fact a keyboard and gadgetry providing electronic soundscapes and “found sound”.)
There are three female performers and it is very much a female piece, based around the real life accounts of women's experiences with pregnancy and abortion. Not surprisingly, it isn’t big on laughs, but is rather understandably heavy. It is supposedly set in a dystopian reality where women's choices are limited, but to be honest, I only know that because I read it; I didn’t think that came across sufficiently.
The spoken words were very realistic – possibly because of their basis in fact. The protagonist was very grounded and naturalistic, giving a broad, gutsy performance. She was very credible and came across as a real person, not a functional caricature.
Atmospheric sounds effectively underline the salient points of the monologue, which are very powerful, both in the writing and the acting: the protagonist getting pregnant at 18, telling her mum, waiting for the pregnancy test, taking the morning after pill and her body actually aborting the finger nail-sized foetus.
I thought the strength of the script was in the various very well-crafted, tense and thought-provoking scenarios, rather than the piece as a whole – again – possibly due to it being compiled from several authentic, verbatim accounts.
Meanwhile, to further illustrate the spoken narrative – no pun intended – an artist painted a series of abstract images, which were projected onto a large screen in the background. On the one hand, this was interesting and unusual, although you could argue that it distracted from the monologue. There was apparently meaning behind the artwork, but it eluded me.
The music was evocative and very successful. The acting was first rate. The general direction was very good with a lot of devices used to create movement in what could have been a rather static talking head piece. There is certainly talent on show here. It’s artistic, avant-garde even, memorable and different, but – for me – only partly successful.
Reviewed on: 24th July 2019.
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman.
Star rating: *** (3 stars)
I, Tom Mayhew
At the King’s Arms Vaults, Salford
Tom Mayhew is an award winning stand-up comedian; he won The Comedy Store's King Gong in 2016, when he drifted on stage from the audience and performed an impromptu set. (You can watch this performance on his website.) The thing that struck me then, was his awkwardness, not just because he might be nervous, but because he seemed ill at ease in his own skin. I thought it was a stage persona and one which I felt worked incredibly well and endeared him to the audience.
Meeting him tonight though, I was surprised to find he is now far more confident and self-assured, which is understandable, as he’s been highly ranked in several comedy competitions and has worked on BBC Radio, so he’s obviously getting it right. (To be honest, I was a fraction disappointed in this new-found confidence, because it meant I was back to my usual position of being the most socially awkward person in the room.)
I say “room”, but this was the Vault beneath Salford’s King’s Arms pub: cold, creepy, stone flagged – basically a whitewashed cellar – which is an odd but adequate venue for Tom, to try out his new material. This is a work in progress, so he may glance at his notes, add a tick to a joke that really worked or a cross to a joke that bombed. I don't think anything fell into the second category.
They always say “write about what you know”, so He, Tom Mayhew, currently in his mid-twenties, has wisely fashioned his show around the theme of his life so far, principally leaving school, being unemployed for three years, the joys of signing on and then his first job at Sainsbury’s. Stand up is now his full time career and it’s his dream job.
He is from a working class background, where times were hard and money was scarce. Refreshingly, he admires and respects his parents and still lives with them. One of the benefits of getting his own place would be: "Not seeing dad's bum every day." He tells us he has a girlfriend, who he unashamedly loves to bits. She is the producer of the show and their relationship has apparently hugely boosted his confidence. (So that explains it.)
Being up-close in a small venue could be uncomfortable, but Tom was easy going and I think everyone felt connected and was rooting for him. As an audience member said after the show, he is "irritatingly likeable".
He touched on the diverse subjects of Christianity, pansexuality, self-esteem, mental health and supermarkets, but mainly unemployment. He likes football: “…because it gives me something to talk to the older generation about... Because I don't like cars and I'm not a sexist."
He only very occasionally glanced at his notes and once or twice asked for an opinion. His comedy style is largely social comment and observational humour – and very personal. There is also some biting political satire and a bit of surrealism. His material is heartfelt, genuinely funny: I laughed a lot. But really, he seals it because he is a likeable character. The wrong person telling the right jokes, wouldn't work, but Tom is warm and personable and brings personality to his material.
It was interesting to see the show in a raw state and get a glimpse of this rising star. You can see this Work in Progress at the King’s Arms on 25th July. https://manchesterfringe.eventotron.com/?event=30835
His next stop is the much-celebrated Edinburgh Fringe. Although this isn’t yet a finished product, but a Work in Progress, it’s a five star show waiting to happen.
Reviewed on: 24th July 2019
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman.
Star rating: **** (4 stars)
WHAT IF…? At The King’s Arms
The piece is written and performed by first year drama students from the University of Salford.
Regulars gather in the local boozer, the Queen’s Legs, on a Friday night. Each person has their own reason for being there, their own secrets and their own skeletons. The landlord, Charlie, is jovial, a decent sort, the only male in the piece and the lynchpin holding the characters together. And sometimes apart.
Lucy is a permanently late barmaid with a very authentic waver in her voice; her childhood was haunted by an abusive father and she struggled to overcome drug addiction. Andi, short for Andrea, friend and sort-of bar staff, is leading a double life, she’s homeless, aggressive and lost.
Each character has a story of why they are who they are, based on their childhood, their upbringing, with alcoholic or drug-taking parents, abusive fathers, absent mothers, foster care, death. Each addresses the audience at various points to reveal their backstory, in heartfelt and often impassioned monologues. During these sections, the other actors freeze, which is visually arresting and very effective.
The entertainment arrives, Lexy on guitar. She bravely sings unaccompanied, but in a showbiz-oozing style, like a performing puppet, singing because she’s expected to sing. "We've all got issues." she wisely says, which underscores the point of the play.
Patrons drift in. Emma Lee (“Two words, no hyphen.”) is dressed to impress but impressing no one. She is shallow, drunk, cocaine-snorting, obsessed with her looks, her image and social networking. “What is a friend these days? Just...” (thumbs up) “a like."
Delilah is a vividly dressed vegan artist, pretentious and self-obsessed, unaware of the feelings of the people around her. Landlord Charlie asks her out; she laughs hysterically.
Towards the end of the play, a mature business woman appears in the bar and it all gets suddenly surreal with splinter scenes featuring a judge and jury. They were well-acted, impeccably timed, but I felt they were somewhat jarring and out of place within the context of the play.
I thought the acting throughout was of a consistently good standard and the characters were well drawn, but I didn’t always feel this play was the best vehicle to showcase their talent. That they are talented isn’t in question. It is presumably a play written by committee, with the cast pitching in ideas. At times it reminded me of the Stockport pub comedy Early Doors (and in the future Charlie may well turn into John Henshaw, a very credible comedy and character actor.) Sometimes it was very much a showcase and seemed to have every theatrical trick thrown in, simply because it’s theatre. There are some rather clumsy metaphors “I’m a moth, but I want to be a butterfly.” Or the rather obscure: “I’m prawn cocktail, born into a cheese and onion family.”
Though it treads a fine line between comedy and pathos, there are some very funny, laugh out loud moments, but ultimately the piece ends with the characters suddenly, very soberly, relating suicide statistics, which – while shocking and poignant and quite damning to society – felt somewhat tacked on, as though an after-thought to give the piece resonance.
So the play ended on a very grave note, but I’m going to end on a positive. Despite being students, the cast came across very confidently. Perhaps there were nerves backstage, but – like true professionals – none of these transferred to the stage. If this is the result of one year of drama tuition, then these young stars have a bright future.
They’re serving last orders at the Queen’s Legs on Sunday 14th July at 2pm, at the King’s Arms in Salford. https://manchesterfringe.eventotron.com/?event=36989
Reviewed on: 10th July 2019.
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman.
Star rating: *** (3 stars)
Juliet Meyers: This Flipping Rescue Dog has Ruined My Life
At the King’s Arms, Salford.
Juliet Meyers is a writer and stand up comedian by profession, having written for Sarah Millican and 8 Out of 10 Cats. Juliet is bubbly and warm and connects instantly with the audience. Her comedy is well-observed and genuinely funny. But enough about the considerable talents of Juliet; her rescue dog, Homer, is in attendance. He has fox ears and “puts me in mind of a latte”. Homer is a Portuguese podengo medio, “which makes him sound like a hatch back”. He is friendly and stunningly handsome.
Juliet starts off saying “Cheer if you've got a dog!” (Cheer.)
“Cheer if you haven't.” (Slightly less stressed cheer.)
“If you like cats you might be at the wrong show. Andrew Lloyd Webber wrote a musical for you.”
But no one is at the wrong show. Whether you like dogs or not, the humour transcends the subject matter. As Juliet speaks, Homer wanders around the audience (literally) shaking hands with his public. He is very relaxed and seems to be thoroughly enjoying the experience. He is so at ease that he later curls up on the stage and goes to sleep.
Along with his brother and sister, he was found abandoned at fifteen days old, outside a vets – in Portugal. Juliet adopted him three and a half years ago. She tells of the trials and tribulations of having a dog, the unconditional love, the separation anxiety, the neediness.
It is a mix of personal anecdotes and clever canine politics, touching on the subject of neuticals (you’ll have to Google it!) the elitism of Crufts, the constant weeing. “He wees on everything. He's young and it's a very powerful wee! He weed on a friend's drive and did fracking!” And the ludicrous things people say: “Ah… did you want a child?” and “Is he adopted?” “I say No... But he looks a lot like his dad.” And “Yeah, he's a bit like a Russian prostitute.”
Juliet has a very comfortable and relaxed delivery style. As she’s talking, it feels like she’s chatting comfortably and telling you things for the first time, which is the mark of a good comedian.
She reveals a set of headbands she has bought: she slips hers on: DOG OWNER. Homer – a consummate professional – sits patiently, head raised, waiting for his own headband to be put on him, which reads: YOU DON'T OWN ME.
Juliet Meyers is naturally very funny anyway, but talking about Homer and having him on stage with her is just the icing on the cake. I laughed all the way through. I could relate to everything she said, apart from a comment about artificial dog hormones affecting her periods. She is refreshing and joyous. It was riotously funny, completely relatable, a feel good show with an added Homer bonus. This is not a show you want to miss. Heart-warming and hilarious!
You can catch Homer… and Juliet will probably be with him… at the King’s Arms on 19th July. https://manchesterfringe.eventotron.com/?event=37294
Reviewer: Gray Freeman
Reviewed: 18th July 2019.
North West End star rating: ***** (5 stars)
https://twitter.com/julietmeyers
Harold and Arthur's Horror Show
At the King’s Arms, Salford
This is billed as “true crime... Paranormal horror... Conspiracy theory... This might be the most disturbing "play" you see this year.” Probably only the last part of that statement is totally true.
The show opens with a chilling scream, followed by horror movie-style organ music. A screen shows images of the atomic tests at White Sands, split atoms, mushroom clouds, then marching Nazis and footage of refugees, then Bowie, scenes from the cult classic Twin Peaks, owls, animals… It is bizarre, unconnected, unsettling, disturbing, seemingly random… or is it? My mind was struggling to find some order, make sense, make connections that probably weren’t there. A narrative voice over begins, telling the tale of the Pied Piper. Again seemingly random. Again – is it?
The hosts finally come out and introduced themselves, with the unlikely names of Arthur and Harold, played by Jonathan Curd and Kiran Tanna. The show takes the form of a live podcast presentation. They are confident and credible hosts, presenting their horror show, which is akin to a mystery or true crime programme.
It’s difficult to say what this actually is, or what it’s trying to be, as it’s many things, but the defining description is almost certainly black comedy. Very black. Like proper art it makes you think. It makes you question the boundaries of bad taste and acceptability. Several times the content tiptoes the thin tightrope between the two, and – many times for some people – I think it’s fair to say, it plummets over. The horrors of the holocaust are flippantly discussed alongside the theory of a hollow Earth and giant bird creatures that live there. It sometimes feels that they are challenging you to laugh if you dare.
The photographic presentation which accompanies their talk is fascinating, often funny and sometimes harrowing; as with everything about this show, it is polarised and polarising.
The hosts jump from talking about Nazis and UFOs to discussing missing people and several cases are documented. It all becomes very serious and very compelling and suddenly seems far removed from the Fortean Times-type nonsense that they started out with. It is very interesting and captivates the audience.
The show is punctuated by “ad-breaks”, supposedly at their corporate sponsor’s insistence, which allows them to show snippets of film, which are very loosely adverts, but are bizarre and quite horrific, featuring images such as someone being kidnapped and tortured with an electric drill, or a man with four eyes. The stuff of nightmares.
After an ad-break, Arthur comes out alone to relate a strange experience he had. The stage and the theatre itself is eerily lit, in near-darkness, while outside it is probably still sunny; it is disorientating, like being in a deprivation tank. It feels much later, it feels like midnight, the witching hour and all that that entails. I mostly loved this section, because of the intense atmosphere that was created, with the addition of subtle sound effects, weird static and odd undulating sounds creating an aural backdrop. Arthur conveys a real sense of fear and was very effective at cranking up the tension, but this is rather squandered as the narrative is overlong and by the conclusion it seems to lack purpose.
Harold then tells his own spooky story, which is shorter, peppered with humour, but also seems somewhat obtuse by the end.
SPOILER ALERT!
As the show has now finished its single night run at the GM Fringe festival, it can’t hurt to spoil the ending. Except there isn’t one. Not a neat, narrative ending anyway. A fake fire alarm goes off and Harold and Arthur announce the show is over and everyone can go home. The audience don’t stir, awaiting a punchline or a suitable conclusion. There is no finale, they insist. There is no big finish, no song and dance routine. That’s it. They start tidying the stage. Eventually, the first brave but uncertain member of the audience stands up and makes for the exit. With some hesitation, everyone else tags along and shuffles away, confused, bemused and possibly slightly disturbed.
As we’re going down the stairs, I overheard the couple in front of me saying: “What did you think?”
“Hmm… I’m not sure.”
“Yeah… me too.”
That summed up the experience for me. But they almost probably talked about it all the way home. And sometimes that’s the point: to shock, to make people wake up, to make people question something…. Or anything.
I feel this had huge, HUGE potential in many places. The actors are good, their comedy timing is good, and they convey a realistic sense of presenter-like faux-earnestness. While it is certainly sometimes horrific and definitely sometimes amusing, it’s an odd entity, made of disparate pieces. What I really like about the show is that it fired up my imagination and kept me wondering. Twenty-four hours later I’m still rather captivated by it, for which it earns its fourth star.
Despite the confusion in the audience, I have a nagging feeling that these two young Yorkshiremen know exactly what their show is all about and it is exactly how and what they want it to be.
Reviewer: Gray Freeman.
Reviewed: 18th July 2019.
North West End star rating: **** (4 stars)
Orlando De-Bloomed
at the King’s Arms, Salford
Described as “a white-knuckle ride into the dark heart of humanity, and a search for the true meaning of Orlando Bloom*. Expect to be moved. Expect to be thrilled. Expect bears. So many bears. *Show may contain traces of Orlando Bloom.” In fact, the only thing Orlandean was a life-size cut out, standing at the mic, centre stage.
The show is the brain child of Leo Mates, actor, performer, writer, comedian. Leo enters wearing glasses and a beret. He sticks a photograph of his own face over Orlando’s and introduces himself as Hector Dunderbridge, the world famous playwright, author of such classics as ‘The Bears and the Bees’ and ‘Punctuation: the Musical’. He is pompous and aggressive and remains in character all the time.
Hector begins with the performance of one of his pieces, using (sometimes reluctant) audience members. He is rude, impatient and overbearing. “Don't ad lib!” “Go back to your seat!” He pulls out the poor, unfortunate, unsuspecting audience members seemingly at random, regardless of gender, so the character of “Mother” is a tall man with a beard, whilst “Man” is a young woman in a flowery dress, which just adds to the absurdity.
The play is terrible, Hector is terrible. A seat at the front is marked RESER-VED. for a famous producer to come and see the show, but we all know he will never arrive.
Next – and again with audience participation – Hector performs his renowned play ‘The Bears and the Bees’. “A love story set in the time of bears.... And bees.” As I was reviewing and scribbling frantically in a notebook, I was the only, sole, solitary, person who wasn’t pulled up onto the stage. (God bless North West End!) The audience seemed to take it all in very good spirits and there was much laughter. Though possibly nervous laughter.
Whilst Hector Dunderbridge is a self-important bully, beneath the glasses and the beret, Leo Mates is very likeable. He has great stage presence and a very powerful, booming, theatrical voice. He holds a mic, but really doesn't need it. He is confident, his performance is assured and he is charismatic. He is also a credible actor and seamlessly conveys mania, arrogance, self-doubt, mania, bitterness, resentment and mania. In fact, Leo projects mania and hysterical madness with worrying ease!
As the show progresses, Hector becomes increasingly manic, waiting for the producer who isn't going to show, then he gets a text from Orlando Bloom, who is apparently locked outside and Hector has hijacked what was supposed to be his show. Hector holds the audience to ransom; the doors are locked. His mania increases. With Hector/Leo ranting, sobbing, shouting, threatening, I actually began to feel like a genuine hostage. “Keep the doors locked!” But then I must have got Stockholm Syndrome, because I started to really pity poor Hector, who had a moment of self-realisation.
How were the audience freed, you might ask? If indeed they were? You’ll have to go and see the show for yourself. It was a very effective end to a bizarre, leftfield, off the wall, under the radar and surreal experience. It is almost unquantifiable. It is certainly memorable. I thought Leo was a very strong performer and – for me – stronger than the material. He finished, as himself, by saying: “If you've enjoyed the show tell your friends. If you haven't... Tell your enemies.”
You can catch Orlando De-Bloomed at the King’s Arms on 19th and 20th July. But tell someone where you’re going, take backup and don't look Hector in the eye. https://manchesterfringe.eventotron.com/?event=37595
Reviewer: Gray Freeman
Reviewed: 18th July 2019
North West End star rating: *** (3 stars)
The Suitcase, The Beggar & The Wind
At Stockport Station
I love the unusual setting: a bare brick room at Stockport station between two platforms, with trains coming and going constantly. I love travel, I love the romance of travel and I love trains, so this offered a lot of potential. Despite freak weather earlier in the afternoon, the show was sold out.
There are five characters, all dressed in clothes that slightly suggest times gone by and also vaguely hint at a foreign setting. (It’s France.) ‘The Beggar’ plays an acoustic guitar and sings in a slurred, almost drunken, guttural voice. A male passer-by walks past repeatedly, carrying different objects, saying “I’m just passing through.” A couple, Irene and Etienne, arrive. The suitcase Etienne is carrying is heavy and he is complaining, which upsets Irene.
“Do you love me?” she asks, for no apparent reason, “I wonder if you love me?”
“Is this any place to ask me?” counters Etienne. “Right here, between the suitcase, the beggar and the wind?”
The dialogue and delivery are not naturalistic, but lyrical, theatrical, almost Shakespearean. There is a sense of oddness; the characters and their language seem strangely displaced and unreal, presumably intentionally so.
The male passer-by comes along again, this time carrying a clock, and Irene embarks on a long and ludicrously fantastical conversation in which they appear to go from strangers to lovers, saying things like “We will dive into the pond of pleasure and marinate in it.” But then the last train is announced, so Irene abruptly drops his hands and she and Etienne leave, without so much as a goodbye. The passer-by rather sadly goes on his way with his clock.
At this point, six people from the row in front of me walked out and didn’t come back.
The couple return again and the dialogue is largely repeated, but this time their roles are reversed and Etienne embarks on a fanciful and magical conversation with a female passer-by. He asks the woman what the weather is going to be like. She humorously removes a huge decorative barometer from her bag, which gets a laugh.
At this point, the man next to me placed his hat on the empty seat in front and began photographing it.
Etienne and the female passer-by continue their flowery, verbal romance until (again) the last train is called and Etienne abruptly steps away.
“Last train, silly goose.” says the Beggar to a sleeping Irene.
Etienne and Irene hurriedly leave for their train and the slightly bereft female passer-by goes about her business.
I have basically just related the plot, because I have no idea what this was about, what it meant or whether I missed the point, but I suspect there was no point as such, other than a poetic use of language. I tried very hard to understand it. I tried to immerse myself in it and – when I completely failed to grasp any meaning – I tried to find some enjoyment in the rhythm of the words and the use of language. It only ran for forty minutes, but I felt even at that length it was over-long.
My opinion differs considerably to previous reviewers and it’s just my opinion, but I’m afraid I didn’t enjoy this at all. I love the setting, the poster, the possibilities and the beggar’s gruff singing and guitar playing. I hope others get something from it – tonight’s show is completely sold out – but it’s just not for me.
https://manchesterfringe.eventotron.com/?event=37807
Reviewer: Gray Freeman
Reviewed: 11th July 2019
North West End rating: ** (2 stars)
KASTERBOROUS IN BOLTON
at The King’s Arms, Salford
An adventure in Time (1999) and Space (Bolton)
It’s 1999: the dark years when Doctor Who was just a cancelled TV show. It has been out of regular production for a decade. Kasterborous is a fan convention, and it’s being staged in Bolton. (Kasterborous – as you’ll know – is the constellation in which Gallifrey, the Doctor’s home planet, is located. If you didn’t know that, you need to get out more. Or rather – if you DID know that you perhaps need to get out more. I did know, so need to get out more, hence attending GM Fringe.)
The play is written by Jonathan Hall, who loves Doctor Who and claims this play is a love letter to the show. He is clearly a long time fan and the play is littered with references and in-jokes. It even opens with the iconic theme tune – a classic version, not a Disneyfied modern take like we have to sit through now – which really gave me the feeling that it was 5.25 on a Saturday again.
We meet the characters backstage at the convention. The professionals: jaded, alcoholic scriptwriter Dominic Holland; faded, typecast actress, Jenny Carpenter, who played the Doctor’s screaming assistant, Sally Anne Briggs. The fans: enthusiastic convention organiser, Jason; obsessed uber-fan, shopping bag toting Alan. The cast are incredibly convincing and utterly compelling. There is weary cynicism from the “stars” and boundless excitement from the fans.
The parallels between Sally Anne Briggs and Lis Sladen’s Sarah Jane Smith are undeniable and surely intentional, but it was a rather cruel depiction of a much-loved character and much-missed actress. To be fair though, for Lis Sladen at the time, Doctor Who was just a job: she did the job, then she moved on. Except she didn’t – and she remained Sarah Jane Smith on the convention circuit, in audio adventures and eventually in her own spin off series, right up until her untimely death.
Meanwhile, back in Kasterborous, Lesley Molony plays Jenny Carpenter, who played Sally Anne Briggs. (Are you following? Only one of these people is real.) Lesley is an accomplished actor and a pleasure to watch. With ease she exudes professional patience, while failing to understand the lure of the programme and resenting its domination over her career. She plays a multi-faceted character, in that behind the scenes she is cynical, in public she is warm and full of praise for the show and her co-stars, she harbours a desire to be taken seriously and shamelessly tries to promote her forthcoming role as Macbeth. Dominic Holland is washed out, swigging from a hipflask. He seduces organiser Jason in a well-played but shockingly hilariously cheeky sexual scene.
Jason and Alan, both fans, couldn’t be more different. Jason is educated and intelligent, writing a thesis based around the morality within Doctor Who. Alan is obsessive and has an autistic-like knowledge of the show, intruding backstage and unable to control his excitement. He is endearing and incredibly well-played, a sensitive performance which is both authentic and comedic. In a touching moment, he tells that he loves Doctor Who because it takes him back to family times, when he sat with his mum and dad and they watched it together. Simpler times, when a rather cheaply made television programme brought families, generations and indeed society together. It was the most honest and moving moment in the play and I think everyone in the audience could relate to it.
The constant references to Doctor Who’s history keep this bubbling along. The characters perhaps learn something about themselves, but this is really just a day in the life of a weekend Doctor Who convention. I thought it would be overlong at 70 minutes, but I was entertained for the duration. If you don’t like Doctor Who, many of the references and in-jokes will be lost; if you do like the show then make time (and space) to see this. There is one final showing on Thursday 11th July, 9pm at the Kings Arms, Salford. If you have access to a Tardis, you can experience the previous shows as well. https://manchesterfringe.eventotron.com/?event=36607
Reviewed on: 10th July 2019
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman
Star rating: **** (4 stars)
GOBBY at the King’s Arms, Salford
Gobby is a new one-woman show, written and starring the talented Jodie Irvine, who previously appeared in Notflix: The Improvised Musical.
The protagonist is called Bri. “As in the cheese, except it isn’t because there’s no “E”. It’s short for Brioni but no one calls me that.” She talks a lot and she talks loud, which earned her the childhood nickname of “Gobby”. The play is based around five parties, which allow Bri’s story to unfold. She is recently out of a mentally abusive and controlling relationship, which has affected her more than perhaps she is aware.
A banner states “IT’S A PARTY” and dance music is playing. Bri dances awkwardly, blows up balloons and welcomes guests. She tries to be effervescent, but is clearly somewhat self-conscious, because she’s the host. She craves recognition and affection from a group of peers, but is crushed when they ignore her and leave early. She is later overjoyed when they invite her to their murder mystery party, only to be crushed again when she finds out she has been selected to play the corpse: the ultimate insult.
The writing contains keenly-observed moments, the minutiae of life, all the small things that are inconsequential, but actually really DO matter, such as a broken bracelet that is special because it changes colour with your mood. These details resonate and help to really establish the character.
Jodie’s performance is naturalistic, her comedy timing is perfection and she is never less than captivating. She utilises “party props” effectively with hilariously consequences: a balloon with a hastily added party hat becomes a man at a party; two party hats held together become a cocktail shaker and a party whistle becomes an impromptu moustache. These visual comedy touches are pure genius.
Gobby is a bittersweet tale. The humour is laugh out loud at times and the introspective moments are handled sensitively, but for me it is slightly overlong at an hour; I feel it would have so much more impact if it was tighter and slightly shorter, but that’s just my opinion. Although there is a very serious subtext, it was the comedy moments that shone, because the humour was well-written and clever and Jodie Irvine absolutely sells it.
You can see Gobby at the King’s Arms, Salford on Saturday 6th July at 6pm. https://manchesterfringe.eventotron.com/?event=34407
Reviewed on: 5th July 2019.
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman.
Star Rating: **** (4 stars)
Patient 4620 – Saint Philip’s Crypt, Salford.
The first thing you notice as you approach Saint Philip’s, is that the church is weirdly out of place in Salford: a late-Georgian Greek Revival-style round tower rises above the surrounding rooftops. As if this wasn’t a stunning enough venue, we are heading below ground, as – uniquely – Patient 4620 takes the form of a self-guided audio tour around the expansive and dimly lit catacombs that stretch beneath Saint Philip’s.
Finished artwork and rough sketches by the (fictional) once-famous artist Gretel Sauerbrot, are displayed in various alcoves, alongside bricked up cells, which – according to the church website – still contain bodies. This adds immensely to the all-pervading uneasiness of the presentation.
As I was unaccompanied and you walk around at your own speed, and I was the first visitor of the day, I was completely alone – underground, in near-darkness – for the duration. Again, this adds to the unnerving experience hugely. The crypt is very creepy; several arched brick tunnels are partially blocked, but you can see they stretch away into the distance and the blackness. As with all horror, it’s what you don’t see that fuels the imagination. The lighting is very effective – and used very sparingly to retain the sepulchral air; there are shadows, dark corners, vaulted ceilings, a maze of tunnels, dead ends and of course, the dead themselves. There is no better setting for this type of experience.
I’m struggling to categorise this event, because ‘installation’ is too dry and doesn’t do it justice. The production company Dread Falls Theatre call it “immersive theatre”. It uses sight, sound, touch and smell to create an atmosphere and they suggest you immerse yourself fully in it to gain the full experience. And that’s exactly what I do.
The piece begins by intentionally wrong-footing you into thinking this is a rather staid gallery audio tour with the narrator’s prim voice describing the life and work of her friend, the famous – and missing – artist, Gretel Sauerbrot. The first painting shows two people in a room with no door; they have no faces, so immediately you are presented with something unsettling, claustrophobic and bizarre. I couldn’t say what, but I had an inexplicable feeling that something terrible was going to be unveiled. In the background of the audio were strange and ethereal effects, which were chilling in their own right, very evocative and really set a foreboding note.
Suddenly, an urgent, ghostly voice in your ear suggests you are being watched. “No, over here! Down here! Look!” I did look. Thankfully, there were just bare bricks and darkness.
The paintings become more disturbing, more unhinged, but always in a way that is indefinable. They are the stuff of nightmares, but only hinted nightmares; you fill in the blanks, so they’re YOUR nightmares. The accompanying audio files for each exhibit become shorter, so the pace picks up and the tension is heightened towards its terrible conclusion.
The artist is committed to a psychiatric hospital, where she produces some of her most disturbing and demonic work, displayed here bathed in a red light. She is never heard of again.
I was quite on edge as I approached the end of the exhibition, because I knew something was going to happen… Something terrible, but I couldn’t imagine what… And I’m going to leave you guessing…
Victoria Snaith wrote the piece and is the artistic director of Dread Falls Theatre. She provides the audio narrative and even sells tickets on the door. She has woven fairytale elements into this story of madness and horror, deception, and the warping of reality. “The play is strongly Lovecraftian,” she told me, “and follows Lovecraft’s premise that if you glimpse the truth it will drive you mad.”
I think I glimpsed the truth. Even after I’d stepped out into the bright Salford sunshine, I was haunted by the eerie story for the rest of the day.
This is something very challenging and very different. It is an experience. It is very creepy, and for that reason is probably not for everyone, but the setting, the story, the exhibits and the conclusion all work together to make this something memorable and rather special.
If you dare, you can catch Patient 4620 on Saturday 6th July from 12pm, again at Saint Philip’s Church Crypt, Salford. https://manchesterfringe.eventotron.com/?event=34707
Reviewed on: 5th July 2019.
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman
Star rating: **** (4 stars)
“EXONERATED” at Hope Hill
Disturbing, affecting, profound and thought-provoking. This is a story of six US citizens who were wrongly convicted of murder, who served up to 22 years in prison, before being exonerated and released back into society. It was written by Jessica Blank and Eric Jensen, who – in 2000 – interviewed 40 former death row inmates. The six interwoven stories that make up the basis for Exonerated are based on fact.
This challenging piece was directed by Hope Mill’s co-founder, Joseph Houston, who has given the show an aura of dark artistry. Everything works symbiotically towards creating a starkly oppressive, chilling and hauntingly memorable atmosphere. The stage design is simple yet effective: the actors are permanently caged behind a chain link fence and barbed wire, which very realistically conveys a prison setting. The audience are on two sides of this cage, opposite, but segregated, which generates a feeling of confinement. It is isolating and gives the illusion of being behind bars. When the lights are down all you can see is the wire mesh, but when the lights go up the actors become visible, eerily already in situ.
Above the set is a screen, on which interviews with the former convicts are shown. They are so convincingly staged it took me a few minutes to realise they were actors rather than the real people themselves. As it is a standard television, rather than a stadium-sized arena screen, after a few minutes you are lulled into thinking you’re watching a TV documentary at home, but then unexpectedly and without warning, the lighting is used to great effect to suddenly flood the set along with the aural cue of the sharp crack of a judge’s gavel and you are thrust back into the theatre experience, as the interviews are punctuated by sudden snippets of live action to underline and illustrate certain points in the tellers’ stories.
As the interviews are mixed in together, I found it a little slow at first, jumping between the various interviewees and laying out the background of their individual cases, but it did become engrossing as the true horror of the stories unfolded. Probably the most memorable being that of the only woman, Sunny Jacobs, who was arrested with her common law husband, Jesse Tafero, accused of shooting two police officers. The murders were committed by a third party who blamed them, but later retracted his statement three times, which each time was ignored. Tafero was notoriously executed via electric chair, which either went wrong or was rigged, as it took three attempts to kill him. Flames leapt out of his head, smoke billowed out of his ears and the place smelt of burning flesh for weeks; he was basically incinerated from the inside. This infamous scenario inspired Stephen King in The Green Mile. Sunny had her own death sentence reduced to life imprisonment, then in 1992 she pleaded guilty to second degree murder and was released having served sufficient time. Despite being included in the script, she was not exonerated. All of the stories are dark, disturbing and compelling. They tell of coerced confessions, victimisation, rape, manipulation and a justice system which has failed and of lives destroyed.
The acting on the stage is of a very high standard, with most of the actors playing multiple roles with ease. My only problem is that I’m not totally convinced the two mediums of the cinematic and the theatrical marry up all that successfully. For me, I think either a play or an audio-visual presentation might have been better, although this is certainly a unique approach, but I was so immersed in the on-screen narratives that it was quite jarring to be suddenly pulled back to the live action and I sometimes felt it was disjointed. The interview footage made up well over half of the play and I didn’t feel like many of the scenes on the stage were necessary or added very much. This is a criticism of the scripting and not in any way the fine actors. I found myself far more engaged with the screen, which – during the stage sequences – showed starkly beautiful, harshly poetic pictures of fences, locked gates or birds on telegraph wires: monochrome images of incarceration and glimpsed freedom which I thought added another element to this already artistically rich show.
The lady next to me whispered: “I hope it has a happy ending.” We know from the title that the interviewees are granted their freedom, but it isn’t in any way a ‘happy ending’, as they have lived through experiences that you just wouldn’t get over. They are mentally and physically scared and have been robbed of years of their lives.
Rounding off the audio-visual aspect, is a heavily ironic burst of “God Bless America” followed by the shocking statistics: “Since 1976, 1,499 people have been executed in the US” and “Since 1973, 165 people have been released from Death Row with evidence of their innocence”.
It’s not easy viewing, but it is eye opening. If you’re looking for a lighthearted feel good show I’d avoid this, because it’s not all that big on laughs. However, if you’re looking for something artistic, thought-provoking and severely memorable, then this might be for you. It is a challenging, brave, brutal and beautifully crafted play. You won’t forget it in a hurry. These were ordinary people whose lives were destroyed, simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and it could happen to you.
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman
Reviewed on: 9th June 2019
Star rating: **** (4 stars)
Rain Man at the Lowry
The 1988 film of “Rain Man” was an Oscar-winning, box office smash. I have only ever seen it once – at the cinema – but it was very memorable, mainly down to the strong portrayals by Tom Cruise and especially Dustin Hoffman, of the Babbitt brothers, Charlie and Raymond.
Raymond has Savant Syndrome, a very specific and high functioning form of autism. The film has been dubbed as “the best and the worst thing that’s ever happened to autism”. Although it brought autism into the mainstream, Savant Syndrome is very rare but the public walked away from the cinemas under the belief that everyone with autism can memorise a phone book and cheat at cards, which is not specifically the fault of the film as it never states that. In the past thirty years attitudes towards autism have changed immeasurably, but this isn’t reflected in the play, as it is a very faithful adaptation of the big screen version and the clothes, hair and accompanying music set it firmly in the late ‘Eighties.
The story centres around the adult Babbitts meeting for the first time since childhood, because their father has died and left his entire estate to Raymond, who lives in care. Charlie essentially kidnaps his brother to use him as leverage to try and get his half of the inheritance.
Chris Fountain plays Tom Cruise playing Charlie. He’s full-on; he’s loud, brash, self-centred, immoral and quite unlikeable – and that’s really the point. Fountain displays aggressive, bullying and dominant traits, but also we see him start to grow and eventually a gentler side emerges. This is in no way a one note performance.
In the interval, people commented on the amount of swearing from Charlie. It’s true his every sentence contains a swear word. Or several. Some people felt there should have been a warning and there wasn’t. I didn’t see any children in the audience and it is an adult play – and while there was more continual swearing than any play I have ever seen, I never once felt that it was gratuitous or out of place. This is how Charlie Babbitt speaks; it’s how the real Charlie Babbitt would speak; it’s how most of us speak. I certainly wasn’t affronted by it, because it felt in keeping and naturalistic. However, if you are offended by wall-to-wall swearing, I’d probably give this a miss.
Despite the strength of Chris Fountain’s acting, and the capable input from every member of the small cast, I feel the story is rather laboured until Raymond enters, when it suddenly comes to life. Tonight Raymond wasn’t played by the headliner, Paul Nicholls, but by understudy Adam Lilley. Immediately, he held my attention. The way he wears his clothes, his posture, his constant movements and tics project the character long before he speaks. Playing Raymond must be exhausting, because he is reacting all the time, every second he is on stage he is doing things with his fingers, standing or sitting in a strange manner and always avoiding eye contact and conveying a nervous awkwardness.
The brothers basically go on the run, with Raymond an unwilling passenger. They stay at various hotels, motels and casinos, effectively conveyed by the simple but effective set, which utilises lit signs and wheeled-on props.
There are plenty of humorous moments, which mainly come from Raymond and his way of taking things literally, misinterpreting situations – such as when a prostitute approaches him – or even just his indifferent and deadpan delivery. There is a scene where Charlie and his girlfriend are having sex in their hotel bedroom. Raymond hears from his adjoining room and comes in, watches and starts mimicking their noises; it is both hilarious and acutely embarrassing.
The premise is an interesting one and there are certainly many fine scenes, but I did think the script could have been a lot tighter, especially at the very beginning and in the second half, where many of the scenes seem overly long and the audience began to fidget. I did feel the script let down the talents of a very accomplished cast.
I’m not sure about criticism of the “damage” to autism. The film and the play aren’t aiming to depict everyone who is autistic, they are concerned with one man. Current thinking about autism is that it isn’t an “illness” or a “disorder”, but a different wiring of the brain. This is cleverly showcased as the differences between the brothers are highlighted. In many ways Charlie is a far more flawed person than Raymond. Charlie goes on a personal journey and is changed by their meeting; although Raymond has definitely been affected by his brother, the change isn’t enough and never will be. The ending is touching and realistic. The very final moments are underplayed perfectly by both leads; they are subtle and very moving.
In a previous run, Mathew Horne (Catherine Tate Show, Gavin and Stacey) had portrayed Raymond and had faced some criticism, because he “failed to make the character his own”. Tonight, both Lilley and Fountain portraying Raymond and Charlie respectively, very ably depicted the characters from the film; Hoffman and Cruise playing Raymond and Charlie. That isn’t a criticism. The characters are so well-drawn, so specific, that I don’t feel there is any room to “make the character your own”. Any changes would alter them, which isn’t going to work in a story so character-driven. The show might not be for everyone, but the acting was outstanding.
Reviewed on 11th March 2019
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman for North West End
Star rating: *** (3 stars)
Dave Gorman at The Lowry
Dave Gorman is difficult to pigeonhole. He was initially a gag writer for TV shows, but first came to fame in his own right when he set himself the task of meeting as many of his namesakes as possible, dragging his unwitting flatmate, Danny Wallace, around the world with him. (Are You Dave Gorman?)
He is a comedian and social experimenter; an observer, commenter and critic of the medium we know as television and of modern culture in general. Most recently he has presented the hugely successful TV series Modern Life is Goodish, described as a “stand-up style documentary”, which – like tonight’s show – is “broadly about the misinformation and nonsense we have to wade through daily in this technologically advanced, wonderful – yet flawed – world of ours.”
The Lyric theatre at the Lowry is full and Dave bounds onto the stage in one of his trademark chequered shirts. He is immediately likeable. He speaks very fast and he speaks a lot – and he has a lot to say. To my delight, he tells a woman off her using her phone during the gig. He promises the audience the world’s best giraffe joke in the second half of the show, but is just here now to introduce his support act and throw in a bit of banter about introductions, in particular in relation to Brain Conley’s The TV That Made Me, which is apparently a daytime TV chat show. Dave Gorman does seem to watch a worrying amount of daytime TV.
The support act is comedian Nick Doody. Rather than being a dull filler you have to tolerate to get to the main act, Nick is very funny. He recently moved to Hebden Bridge, which “floods regularly and has a higher lesbian population than Lesbos. But the dykes don’t stop the water.” He is a conventional stand up – in that he doesn’t wear chequered shirts or use PowerPoint. He talks about Donald Trump and Theresa May, but about their characters not their politics. He does several songs on the keyboard, including a slightly worrying teenage love song to the caped crusader, Batman. His songs and playing style I found very reminiscent of Victoria Wood. He is clearly a very talented pianist; the middle-eight of one song includes a brief foray into jazz. He seems very warmly received by an appreciative audience.
After a short break, Dave Gorman comes on to give us his outraged yet humorous views on all manner of disparate subjects that have been annoying him recently. He is hilariously pedantic and highly intelligent. The things he picks on are usually not huge events or issues, but often the minutiae of life, such as toiletries, moving to Bournemouth, grammar and especially TV shows, daytime TV – again – namely Cash in the Attic. He talks about his stint on a celebrity edition of the quiz show, The Chase, on which his team won a fortune for charity, mainly down to him.
He briefly and expertly tackles another woman for using her phone, with a “reported” put down. “The phone lights up your face… and you haven’t got the face for it.”
Not all his themes and angles and subjects are a hit. A long diatribe about his wife using his condition fell a bit flat and could have done with more lustre and bounce, but other sections excelled, such as the Daily Express getting a well-deserved bashing for completely fabricated “news” stories, which Dave superbly documents and illustrates. Every point he makes, no matter how casual, flippant or throwaway it might seem, is suddenly backed up on the screen behind him by carefully researched statistics, graphs and diagrams. If there’s a point to the show, he tells us, it’s a call for honesty, for newspapers and TV shows to stop making things up.
One of the highlights of the show, comes when he performs a “found poem”, as made popular on his TV programme. On a darkened stage with just a spotlight on his face, he narrates genuine quotes relating to a subject, in this case the Royal Wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, which is hilarious. He also breaks down half way through in uncontrollable laughter.
The evening is rounded off with both Dave and Nick Doody returning to the stage. Nick accompanies him on the keyboard for another found poem, this time about the issue of Australia being allowed to enter the Eurovision song contest. Yes, it’s a minor issue, but it seems to have caused much outrage and controversy. Again, this was side-splittingly funny – for him as well – and was possibly the apex of the evening.
The audience were asked not to reveal spoilers and not to discuss aspects of the show, which would ruin it for others, so I haven’t. I will just say Dave Gorman is immediately engaging and immensely likeable: he could talk about anything and make it amusing… actually he does talk about anything. And everything. Quite quickly. This is a great show by a naturally charismatic entertainer. And pedant.
Oh, and the joke about the giraffe alone is worth the ticket price.
Reviewed on: 3rd February 2019
Reviewed by: Gray Freeman for North West End
Star Rating: *** (3)