The Prickle (@ThePrickle) February 29, 2020
Go and see this show if you are curious, open-hearted and willing to take a risk. Described (half-sarcastically?) by Green himself as, ‘a re-negotiation of the fragile, beautiful, invisible contract between performer and audience,’ the work depends upon you. Upon us. We hold Christopher’s reluctant hand, unsure who’s leading who even as we’re compelled to give little shoves, tugs, and at moments rapturous applause. Green is both likeable and unlikeable, but ultimately, hopefully, loveable.
The scripted portions of the 90 minutes are tender, funny, clever and courageously well-adapted if the audience (in one case this reviewer) derail a trajectory because we are trying to protect someone or something from the plot. Perhaps it now sounds like an Escape Room experience, which is certainly how the reluctant performer approaches it. But the experience is more subtle than this, and lower budget. In visuals, little more is guaranteed than a set of silky ringlets (worth showing up for) and while the aesthetic possibilities are huge with an audience drawn into collaboration, the real excitement and risk comes from our humanity.
What can we offer a fragile soul like this? What can such a soul offer us? And can it harm us?
No Show isn’t high octane – it’s high stakes. It will be entirely different every night, and you might end up with hearts full of glee, singing Robbie Williams at the top of your voice; you might end up agog and silent in your seats, or you might end up looking at those agog faces from the stage, wondering who thinks you’re a hired actor, and sensing the much bigger questions that will occur to you in hours and days to come.
You will laugh, you will sing, you will be shocked and you will do nothing when someone has a crisis. Olivier Awar… twitter.com/i/web/status/1…—
The Yard Theatre (@YardTheatre) February 27, 2020
Entirely different every night 24 February — 14 March.