This is how Parable is described online: “James is an average student at University number 1179. However, his world is turned upside down by a series of unexpected and increasingly outlandish events.”
Those unexpected and increasingly outlandish events stem from James waking up one morning and hearing voices. Primarily it’s the voice of his conscience – but for the purposes of Parable, it’s also the Narrator. Or Steve, for short. An unwelcome intrusion at first, James eventually starts to follow the Narrator’s bidding, including starting a friendship with a sword on his table.
Joshua Rowlett has constructed an extremely surreal one-man, but multi-voiced, play, with an internal monologue that gets more and more out of hand with the ridiculous events that the narrator and the sword create for him. Although relatively short, it’s a very ambitious piece that relies on split second timing as Mr Rowlett’s words and actions have to dovetail into the pre-recorded soundtrack that provides the other voices we hear. And on the whole it worked pretty well, with just one or two occasions where the timing didn’t quite work – but the nature of the play means we move on rapidly and any errors are quickly forgotten.
It’s very funny and provides several laugh out loud moments for the audience. Does it contribute to our understanding of the human condition and the future of society? Probably not. But it does offer twenty minutes of entertainment and comedy surprises!
This is how Blue Baby Blue is described online: “In their cosy one-bed flat in Essex, Lewis and Anna find their world turned upside down when they unexpectedly become a little family. Follow them as they embark on this new journey that’s full of ups and downs and the harsh reality of young parenthood.”
Indeed, Lewis and Anna cannot believe their luck – which includes whether it’s good luck or bad luck – when Anna gets a positive result on her pregnancy test. They’re both very young and just starting out in their careers. Lewis instantly has cold feet and suggests an abortion; Anna, on the other hand, feels adoption would be better. But as neither solution suits the other partner, they have the baby and settle down to being a household of three. But when the all-night crying sessions start, and Anna finds she cannot cope, the baby blues set in – full-scale post-natal depression which debilitates their relationship and endangers the baby. Is there any way out for the three of them?
Sensitively written, but never scared of addressing the true issues, this is a moving and frequently upsetting play that examines the effects of post-natal depression on both parents, and the potential harm that the baby risks. Vicky Dunbobbin and Archy Mackillop turn in two excellent performances as the unwilling young parents, beautifully interweaving their words and actions with each other, from the early, heart-warmingly funny days in the past to the bitter, angry present.
Precisely acted, and with a mature understanding of the condition beyond their years, it’s a powerful and convincing two-hander that keeps you thinking long after curtain down. Its bleak and uncomfortable ending shows that there is no easy solution to this common problem. Ms Dunbobbin and Mr Mackillop make a great team and have an excellent chemistry on stage, and can clearly turn their hands to top quality writing too. Great work!
Without making it sound like an end of the pier revue, the Royal Shakespeare Company’s summer season kicks off with Atri Banerjee’s production of Julius Caesar. Having started with The Tempest, it’s the second in a series of plays grouped under the theme of Power Shifts, and there’s no doubt that’s highly relevant in these tortuous political times that we’re all facing. I’ve no statistical proof of this, but I think if you got a bunch of Shakespeare devotees in a room together they’d agree that Julius Caesar is one of their favourite offerings from the Great Bard. It’s packed with exciting characters, memorable speeches, impactful incident and more deaths than you can shake a stick at. And it couldn’t be more suited to an examination of power shifting. So it’s a great shame to come away from a production regretting many of its directorial decisions and opportunities lost.
The production is so heavily stylised that it alienates you from the start. Six members of the Community Chorus come on stage, and you think they’re going to sing something passionate and portentous. Instead they give us some heavy breathing like they’re expelling the bad energy at the end of a Vinyasa Yoga session. The rest of the cast come on stage and start running around; after a while they form into a pack and give what I can only describe as an homage to the Michael Jackson Thriller routine. This leads into some chanting (naturally) and Mark Antony starts to howl like a wolf. It’s at this stage that you realise this production is not for purists. The trouble is, if you’ve already lost the goodwill of the crowd by this stage – and Mrs Chrisparkle had already decided that this wasn’t going to be for her – then you’ve got a big uphill struggle trying to get it back.
As you might expect from the Royal Shakespeare Company, there’s an abundance of female actors taking on the traditionally male roles and, despite the odd misplacement of a pronoun here or there, it never seems forced or inappropriate; in fact, it helps gain a new insight into some of the characters. The acting is also first-rate throughout, which really gives purpose to the production. The text is spoken clearly and with conviction; in fact there’s very little that you hear* in this production that doesn’t satisfy even the most pernickety Shakespeare fan. (*One exception, that I’ll return to later.)
No, the problem with the production is with what you see. A blank stage, with a distracting back projection that does little to set the scene. A mishmash of costumes that neither inform us of the status of the characters nor the era in which the play is set. There’s the return of what I think of as the RSC Clock – a ticking countdown that creates a two-minute pause after the death of Caesar – for no discernible reason whatsoever, other than to minimise its impact – and a twenty-minute countdown during the interval. It was the RSC Clock that contributed to the mess that was their Macbeth in 2018, and whilst it’s less damaging here, it’s still a pointless complication. Nothing looks sillier than when a clock ticks down to zero and nothing happens – as at the end of the interval, when at zero hour some people were still queueing for the loo, and it was probably another two minutes of staring at a stopped clock before the play resumed.
Despite a number of deaths, there are no dead bodies – think about that – nor are there are any weapons. Killings are mimed, and there’s lots of semi-balletic prancing around which certainly takes away from death’s sting, but unfortunately looks rather ludicrous. When Brutus kills herself by running onto Lucius’s outstretched hand, it resembles the kind of game you might have enjoyed in the school playground aged seven. And there’s the blood. Being Julius Caesar, there’s an awful lot of it. “Let us bathe our hands in Caesar’s blood,” says Brutus, “…and waving our red weapons o’er our heads, let’s all cry “Peace, freedom, and liberty!””
There’s a clue there – red. So why is the blood in this production black? And it’s not blood-like but a thick gooey gunge that gets on everyone’s hands and clothes; and, of course, with no weapons, Caesar is basically patted to death by messy hands, making the memorable “unkindest cut of all” reference redundant. It’s as though everyone is smeared with molasses; maybe Caesar was diabetic and was killed by a high blood sugar surge.
Let’s not forget the revolving cage of death. As more and more characters get despatched to heaven above, they start to populate a huge cube at the back of the stage. The more people who join them, the happier those already dead seem to be to greet old friends; and I must say, the silly childlike hello wave between Caesar and Brutus is cringeworthy. And the cage revolves; not by some magic stage technology but by two stagehands pushing it around like a broken-down car. Frankly, it’s inelegant and embarrassing.
You may not be surprised to see that the ghetto blaster makes a reappearance, so that Brutus can relax to the tune of Caetano Veloso’s song Nine Out of Ten. I know this because the programme told me. I’d never heard the song before and I’d never heard of Veloso, but I’ll bet my bottom dollar it’s contemporary of neither Roman times nor 1599. When aspects of a production only make sense to the audience after they’ve read a programme note explaining them, there’s something not quite right with the production. It’s a little like trying to wade through T S Eliot’s Waste Land and then turning to his notes in desperation. The programme also explains the reason for the RSC Clock; personally, I think it’s pretty tenuous. Banerjee describes the collaboration between the various cast members which led to the structure of the production as being “quite magical”; whereas to us it felt like it was a production that had been put together by committee. And what I can only describe as being far too clever-clever.
So let’s turn to those show-saving performances. Thalissa Teixeira is superb as Brutus. Noble, honourable (as Mark Antony will tell us) and with a vulnerable compassion that defines her dilemma of being an unwilling conspirator, she gets all the character’s nuances and conveys them with clarity and authority. There’s a terrific balance between her and Kelly Gough’s Cassius; Ms Gough gives us a volatile and excitable reading of the role, emphasising the character’s motivations and emotions with great clarity. And William Robinson is terrific as Mark Antony, slightly wet behind the ears, turning that “tide of man” with a brilliant performance of the Friends Romans Countrymen speech.
The other conspirators are all very well portrayed – Gina Isaac’s Decius Brutus is delightfully deceitful, Matthew Bulgo’s Casca splendidly reserved, and Katie Erich’s Caius Ligarius impressively earnest. Joshua Dunn makes a good job of Cinna the Poet’s untimely death, and there is some light comic relief from Jamal Ajala’s Lucius being made to run on and off the stage ad fatigatum – at least I think it was meant to be comic relief. Annabel Baldwin’s Soothsayer is turned out like they’d just got off the exercise bike at the gym, but nicely delivers their portentous lines with matter-of-fact clarity rather than with Up Pompeii-style wailing.
Nigel Barrett plays Caesar as an atypical military hero; you’d get the sense that he’d rely on his foot soldiers to win any battles, and he appears as a someone more likely to enter a dad dancing contest rather than being a feared General. It’s an interesting reading of the part – not one that I really attuned to, but you can’t win them all.
I was so looking forward to this production; but in the end I was so disappointed with it. To say this is a curate’s egg is to be kind to curates. Worth seeing for the acting, especially Ms Teixeira and Ms Gough’s verbal sparring and Mr Robinson’s oratory. As for the rest, I’ll draw a veil. Julius Caesar is playing at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre until 8th April, and then goes on a nine date tour until June, to Canterbury, Truro, Bradford, Newcastle, Blackpool, Nottingham, Norwich, York and Salford.
This is how Stuck Between a Rock and a Hard Place is described online: “a solo comedy play exploring the theme of marital divorce from the children’s point of view. It is set as a mountaineering incident gone wrong and as Frankie awaits his fate, his thoughts cast back on the events of his life.”
Frankie is indeed “on the edge”; after an accident that separates him from the rest of his mountaineering party, he has turn to his inner resources to survive, and depending on what happens he could be facing a life or death situation. They say your memories come flooding back to you when you die – and maybe that is what is happening here. Certainly, Frankie takes us back through his school life, his inadequate and unhelpful experiences with counselling and therapy, and his imagination of what his parents’ happy wedding day would have looked like (had he been there). But, in the end, there’s only him – and will he survive?
This delightful one-man performance by Jonny Russo is a joy to watch. In complete control of the stage, he holds our attention through some laugh out loud moments and others when you can feel your breath tighten in your chest. He delivers the piece with absolute conviction, never for a second breaking out of character, allowing his (and/or Frankie’s) personality to shine through at several moments, making it even more believable. He has a sure-fire way of delivering off-the-cuff remarks to their maximum comic effect, but also a piercing gaze that lets you see straight into his soul.
If I have a criticism, which is of the play rather than the performance, I felt there were one or two of Frankie’s relived moments in the past that could have been pushed even further for even more character insight. But that is a quibble. Mr Russo is obviously going to be One To Watch. The audience all loved it.
It’s a pleasure to be back watching the University of Northampton 3rd Year Acting Students present their Flash Fringe Festival plays! This year they are taking place at the little Playhouse Theatre on Clare Street, as well as at the Creative Hub on the Waterside Campus. If all goes well, I hope to see all ten plays that are at the Playhouse.
This is how One Day Son is described in the programme: “A naturalistic play where 2 families must battle tragedy: both the ordinary and the extraordinary. This piece presents a world identical yet very different to our own, and we learn as our characters do that not everything is at it seems.”
It’s a suitably intriguing description for a distinctly intriguing play. Written by cast member Dylan Morris, it’s a neatly structured, thought-provoking and highly emotional piece. Teenage friends Ashley and Izzy suspect that their fathers – who work together felling trees – are not telling the entire truth about the nature of their work; but if they question them, Ashley’s father Marcus clams up and Izzy’s father Eli gets angry. Marcus’ wife Rose is expecting another baby, but their happy plans turn to a nightmare when the birth is premature. Can some kind of external pressure lead the way to a successful birth?
Mr Morris has a great ear for domestic conversation, and how sometimes the important message within a conversation is left unsaid. I enjoyed how our understanding of the unfolding situation grew with each scene, so that what is deliberately confusing at first becomes clear as a bell at the end. The play doesn’t shy away from grappling with some very difficult subjects, and its themes of trust and betrayal, and the nature of “playing God” is very well handled.
Simply, but well staged, the play also boasts some excellent performances; George Hastrup as Eli has terrific stage presence and performs with great assurance and authority, and I really enjoyed the emotion-packed performance of Stephanie Eva Radcliffe as Rose, sorrowfully trying to keep her family together in the face of the most unexpected adversity.
It was a shame that the camera that Marcus uses to capture his training video with Eli still has the lens cap on – that took away from what had otherwise felt like a very realistic production. Nevertheless it’s a good production of a great piece of writing, which absolutely held the audience’s attention throughout. And yes, I did shed a tiny tear at the end!
Second comedy gig of the week, and back in the familiar environment of the Underground at the Royal and Derngate. Our genial host was, as usual, Dan Evans, mining his comic brain for witty rejoinders with the front rows of the audience. This week they included Chris the Floor Fitter, the staff from the Pytchley pub in West Haddon, and a battle of wits to gauge whether or not an MA in Counselling would beat a PhD in Cancer Research – we basically decided the PhD would always win. Dan on terrific form as per usual.
For the second time this week, all the acts were new to us, which is fairly extraordinary given the number of comedy gigs we’ve been to over the years! First up was Kelli! Taylor – the exclamation mark is a vital part of her name, rather like the musical Oklahoma! – a delightful character spoof of a hair stylist from Hull, whose salon is called Hair Body Her Choice. Kelli! takes us into her confidence as she backstabs about all her clients, from the tissue paper thin skin of the elderly to the vajazzling of the more daring. It’s the comedy of bitchiness and gossip, and it works very well. It maybe took a little while for the Northampton audience to cotton on to how the act was going to work, but once we got there, we all really enjoyed it. Very clever!
Our middle act was Amir Khoshsokhan, a quietly lugubrious chap who delivers his material with care and forethought but with a hugely wicked twinkle in his eye. He’s another of these supremely gifted and brave comics who adopt a slow pace but with such authority that no one thinks of heckling. Extremely funny material, with a re-enactment of a conversation with his (now) ex-girlfriend about going out late, a lovely sequence regarding sex role play (Gerald and Vivienne) – which leads to tremendous callback later, and the trials and tribulations of being a failed vegetarian. He had us in the palm of his hand and we all loved him. Definitely One To Watch.
Headlining was Stephen Grant, an ebullient fellow who bounds onto the stage enthusiastically and gets down to work with energy and likeability. He’s got a quick brain and terrific verbal dexterity, and I loved how he took some easily recognised and well-known topics, like IVF, or marital breakdown, and toppled them on their heads with fresh and funny new material that inevitably all ties up nicely at the end. He has great material about his natural tendency to pedantry, and closed with a superb sequence about how you can sum up a person and their age from their first name – thank third row Graham for that contribution. Savagely inventive with hecklers too! He was the perfect end to an already great night of comedy.
Three shows so far this year, and each one a sell-out. Screaming Blue Murder is on a roll! Next one is on 28th April – and it’s already sold out!
Few experiences in the theatre are more thrilling than immersive, promenading staging. Ever since as an 18 year old I found myself exactly halfway between Jesus (Mark McManus) and Judas (Jack Shepherd) having a staring contest in the National Theatre’s Return of the Passion in the old Cottesloe Theatre, there’s nothing quite like that frisson when you find yourself in the thick of it, in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. In their five, brief but successful years of mounting productions at the Bridge Theatre, we have enjoyed three promenade productions, and they’ve all been superb. There’s something about that acting space that lends itself to a standing audience so well. We were part of the Roman Mob in Julius Caesar; we cavorted with fairies in A Midsummer Night’s Dream and now we’ve lived life on the streets of New York in Guys and Dolls; each of them directed by Nicholas Hytner.
Everyone knows the plot, based on Damon Runyan’s stories The Idyll of Miss Sarah Brown and Blood Pressure, so it’s redundant for me to regurgitate here; however, I will. In a nutshell, Nathan Detroit, long engaged to cabaret artiste Miss Adelaide, is trying to find a location for his floating crap game. In the same neighbourhood, Sister Sarah Brown of the Save a Soul Mission is trying to rescue sinners into the arms of Jesus. Top gambler Sky Masterson is in town; he accepts a bet from Detroit that he can take a woman of Detroit’s choosing to Havana, Cuba, for dinner. Detroit chooses Sarah; and whilst in Havana they fall in love. But will it be a double wedding with Nathan and Adelaide too? Of course it will!
There have been many productions of this show, and I don’t think it has ever been anything other than a big success. Nicholas Hytner’s vision to create an immersive version of the show works extremely well, as we get truly close up and intimate with the cast. We have a front row view at the Hotbox club; we’re shooting crap with all the other gamblers, we’re part of the meeting at the Mission, we’re shaking our funky stuff in Havana, and we’re propping up the bar with Adelaide and Sarah. Our involvement in each and every part of the show feels like a privilege. Even so, I felt that the production involved the promenaders slightly less than either Caesar or Dream; especially in the second act, where we basically stood our ground on the theatre floor and barely needed to move at all with the action. Not a criticism, merely an observation.
Few musicals have as many stunning songs as Guys and Dolls. Even the weaker songs are standards; honestly, why wouldn’t you love the simple kindness of More I Cannot Wish You? And this production brings out all the razzmatazz of the amazing score, with Tom Brady’s magnificent band working overtime with some truly lush arrangements. Everything about the show is spectacular, from the costumes to the New York neon signs, to Arlene Philips’ choreography and the incredible set that emerges up on platforms from out of the ground. You have a wonderful sense that you’re witnessing something special. And if you’re promenading, what otherwise might be just special becomes magic.
We loved Marisha Wallace in last year’s Oklahoma! and knew that she would be perfect as Miss Adelaide – and she is. Her voice and presence are sensational anyway – but she has just the right level of sassy knowingness combined with a vulnerability that absolutely suits Adelaide’s resentments against Nathan’s procrastinations but also knowing she can’t do without him. She’s wonderful in all the numbers, but perhaps especially so in Take Back Your Mink (including something of a surprise for one of the audience members) and in collaboration with Celinde Schoenmaker’s Sarah in Marry the Man Today. She, too, has an extraordinarily beautiful, pure voice which lends itself well to Sarah’s starchy respectability, and is all the more delightful when that facade of respectability takes a tumble.
Daniel Mays is an excellent Nathan Detroit, bringing out all the humour of his desperate need to placate all his gangster customers whilst furiously trying to make a profit too. Andrew Richardson is a fantastic discovery in his West End debut as Sky; another glorious voice and terrific stage presence with a lovely feel for the comedy in the role. Other standout performances include Cameron Johnson’s imperious Big Jule and Cedric Neal’s charismatic Nicely-Nicely Johnson; it’s no surprise that Sit Down You’re Rocking The Boat gets the biggest and most prolonged cheer of the night.
One of those productions that makes you want to pinch yourself to believe it’s true. I can’t imagine we won’t return for another helping of New York thrills this summer – Guys and Dolls is playing at the Bridge until 2nd September. What are you waiting for?!
A new venue for us, the Waterside Bar and Restaurant at Northampton University, and it’s a very welcoming environment. Great sightlines, excellent well-priced wine and a friendly atmosphere. Of course, what can make or break a comedy gig is the subtle blend of venue and audience; and, on last night’s experience, the right blend just wasn’t there. We knew for a fact (they told us many times!) that the acts were expecting a much more studenty crowd than the demographic who had bought tickets; representing the students, there were only wannabe sports coach Jake (19) and his unnamed girlfriend (20) present. The rest of us were of indeterminate older age! Maybe, because it was held at the university, some of the regular Comedy Crate crowd didn’t feel that it was the right venue for them and so stayed away. <RANT>But comedy is comedy, gang! You can have just as good a laugh at a uni venue as you can in a pub or theatre. So have the confidence to book tickets! </RANT>
All four comics plying their trade last night were new to us – something that very rarely happens nowadays, so that gave the evening an additional frisson (for us anyway). Our host was Ross Smith – and a very capable pair of hands he is too. Very welcoming, he instantly put us at ease as he delved into the private lives of those in the second and third rows (including us). Often, when you get targeted by a comic to answer lots of personal questions, something inside you clams up and you just wish they’d go away. Not so with Mr Smith; he has a very engaging personality that invites you to open up and tell things to a perfect stranger (indeed a room full of them) that you wouldn’t normally. He controlled the evening with a true lightness of touch, he’s clearly got a quick comic brain, and I’d really like to see him do a longer set. So far, so good.
Our first act was Michael Mannion, and I can’t pretend it went well. Thrown a) by the fact that we weren’t students and b) from the lukewarm response he received to his opening material, he lost his way somewhat and found it difficult to get back on track. I felt that he sensed that his set was going worse than it actually was, which was an early punch in the stomach of his confidence. He self-deprecates before we’ve had a chance to assess whether he deserves to, describing himself as a c*** several times, too early into the act and without real justification. As a result, when he actually asks the audience at one stage, don’t you think I’m a c***? which, presumably, most student audiences do, we were left thinking no you’re not, just a well brought-up nice young man, in a slightly patronising way. His act is very much based on his appearance and personality rather than its verbal content, and there just weren’t enough well-delivered punchlines for the act to go better. Oh, and, no Michael, we weren’t all 100 years old, despite your muttering it!
Things took a terrific turn for the better with our middle act, Jacob Nussey. A very dour, wry persona, with a quiet but totally authoritative delivery, the audience quickly attuned to his material and pace. He had some wonderful observations about working for Amazon, and a brilliant sequence about casual racism which really turned the subject on its head. Self-deprecating in just the right way and extremely funny. He was perfect for this gig, as all his observations and material were relatable to people of all ages.
Our headliner was Erika Ehler, with a larger-than-life personality and terrific stage presence, but she too was sideswiped by the lack of students in the audience. She has some great material and delivers it with style and conviction, but the majority of it didn’t land. After a while she started to tell us that we wouldn’t like her next lot of material because we were the wrong audience for it; and she was right! A shame because I’m sure under different circumstances she would be a big hit.
The key to success for comedy at this venue is to get more bums on seats! We can’t make the next gig here, on 18th April, but you should – Ross Smith hosting again, and Josh Pugh is topping the bill. Should be great!
With so many family members who – unbelievably – had still never seen Noises Off, we had a big trip up to London to catch the last night of the current run of Lindsay Posner’s new production of this classic comedy – and it was worth every penny and every minute. I’m sure you know the premise; TV star Dotty Otley has sunk her money into a touring production of Robin Housemonger’s latest sex comedy, Nothing On, opening tomorrow night at the Grand Theatre Weston-super-Mare. Unfortunately, they’re all a bit behind with their rehearsals.
So Act One of Noises Off is the dress rehearsal of Act One of Nothing On; Act Two is backstage during the midweek matinee at the Theatre Royal, Goole, a few weeks later; and Act Three is the last night of the tour at the Municipal Theatre, Stockton on Tees. Although everyone is sweetness and light at the beginning (apart from the super-stressed director), it doesn’t take long for relationships to become a little strained; and when one member of the cast gets jealous of the attention paid to others, it becomes too much to bear.
There’s so much to enjoy in the show. The mistimed curtain announcements. The dilemma of too many sardines. Lost contact lenses. Sudden nosebleeds. Stuck doors. Tied laces. Concealed whisky bottles. It’s a never ending list. I’ve now seen Noises Off five times over the decades, and I challenge anyone to come up with a funnier individual Act within a play certainly over the last forty years than Act Two of Noises Off. You inevitably end up with your eyes streaming with happy tears and your voice hoarse from cackling. You also think you’ve always seen the best ever cast – until the next time you see it.
This delightful production has a cast to die for. Felicity Kendal brings all her immaculate comic timing to the role of Dotty Otley, unable to tell her newspaper from her sardines, mouthing obscenities at other cast members and truly nailing the killer lines that Michael Frayn provides her. Alexander Hanson is fantastic as director Lloyd, again with brilliant timing, wonderfully tired with not only this ghastly play but life in general. Joseph Millson gives us a superb physical comedy performance as the neurotic and furious Garry, with some amazing pratfalls and vocal athletics. Matthew Kelly is joyfully doddery as the oft-inebriated Selsdon, Jonathan Coy beautifully brings out all Freddie’s anxieties and I don’t think I’ve ever seen the role of Belinda Blair played with such inventive humour as here by Katherine Kingsley. In fact, occasionally one can feel that Act Three is a tiny bit of an anti-climax after the high octane hilarity of the middle act – but not a bit of it here, I’ve never seen Act Three played so brilliantly.
The production has already had a brief UK tour before hitting the West End, and will be returning for a new tour later this year. Considering the whole genre of the sex comedy is pretty much a thing of the past, it’s amazing how fresh and recognisable the comedy is. Should be compulsory viewing for everyone! A sheer delight from start to finish.
Hurrah for another packed house upstairs at the Bradlaugh to see the next Comedy Crate extravaganza – with Tom Toal hosting three great acts for us all to enjoy. Tom was excellent at getting to know everyone in the front few rows, including regular updates on how Gemma’s mum was doing (not well apparently), the green suit man who’s into pet insurance, and all the girls who work at Giggle Café. He’s got a bright and lively style about him and put us all at our ease to enjoy the show.
Unusually for us, all three acts were new to us, so that made for a fascinating evening of comedy! First up was Finlay Christie, a 23-year-old self-styled posh boy, with a set all about being a young Generation Z chap. I loved his material about seeking out older women for a relationship and his observations on the class system. He’s a terrific comedy craftsman, with a superb ability to hold our attention. His final joke (and an incredibly funny one) took a long time to deliver with lots of vital pauses and silences; many a comic would have had the crowd growing restless under such circumstances, but he had wound us around his little finger and were glued to our seats to hear the punchline. This young man will go far, Mark My Words.
Next up was Ricky Balshaw, a naturally funny guy whose act centres on his life with cerebral palsy, and he’s not afraid to go into detail. Some of that material can be a little hard to take, but it’s his life and his reality, so if anyone is entitled to address it – it’s him! Blessed with excellent comic timing he has an excruciating tale about diarrhoea which had the entire audience squirming in hilarity. Good comedy should sometimes challenge the audience – and this was very good comedy.
Our headliner was Helen Bauer, who had the audience in the palm of her hand from the word Go, with terrific material from the point of view of an assertive woman, including her conclusions about Supersize v Superskinny, how life changes at 30, why German is sexy, and the incremental benefits of drinking three bottles of wine at a sitting. Full of attack, and with observations that never fail to hit home, she had us in hysterics the whole time. Apparently, she is returning for the Comedy Crate’s Summer Festival – where she will be a must-see.
Our next Comedy Crate gig will be at the Waterside Bar on the University of Northampton Campus in a couple of weeks – looking forward to it!
This is how Parable is described online: “James is an average student at University number 1179. However, his world is turned upside down by a series of unexpected and increasingly outlandish events.”
Joshua Rowlett has constructed an extremely surreal one-man, but multi-voiced, play, with an internal monologue that gets more and more out of hand with the ridiculous events that the narrator and the sword create for him. Although relatively short, it’s a very ambitious piece that relies on split second timing as Mr Rowlett’s words and actions have to dovetail into the pre-recorded soundtrack that provides the other voices we hear. And on the whole it worked pretty well, with just one or two occasions where the timing didn’t quite work – but the nature of the play means we move on rapidly and any errors are quickly forgotten.
