As we near the end of the GM Fringe, it is hard not to compare shows but easy to reflect on the many excellent components that have made it up this year, with a large chunk of them being at The King’s Arms in Salford. With a few shows having long titles, my latest trip tonight was for ‘Me, You And George Clooney’ which others and I struggled to decide whether it was ‘You, Me’ or ‘Me, You’, and it seems that the projections used in the show also got confused, projecting ‘You, Me’, contrary to the promotional materials.
Beginning with a clever and slick projection of an opening, almost credit-like, sequence, we follow mature sheltered housing tenant Nellie (Jill Hughes) as she gets used to and shares her life with new care worker Nigel (Rob Lees). It would have been nice to have had the two actors come on in a more natural way than what seemed like a delayed entrance, after seeing Nigel, talking through the letterbox, on projection.
Once they sat down in the makeshift ‘living room’ (two draped folding chairs, a table and a few props), it really began. I mean the pace-less string of odd (possibly not rehearsed enough) humour that the two batted between one another, facing the audience. Despite us witnessing their conversations, face on, it was odd to feel part of the action (that I didn’t really want to be part of). The unexpected interval between the one-and-a-half hour show did not make me appreciative of the lack of momentum that could have been considered, maybe just by trimming the ever-so-long blackouts that acted as scene changes (was there any need to play the whole of the audio tracks when the actors had literally no costume changes for the majority of the show?) and didn’t help the show to flow.
Monotony is a harsh term but in all honesty, I am on the fence about whether I enjoyed the show or not, as I was quite unsure whether to be impressed or surprised at the fact that the cast were far better when they perform, staring at a webcam rather than acting to or in front of a live audience. The other cast members become apparent when Nellie video calls her son, Tommy (Bob Kemp), in the presence of Nigel (well everything is, as their time apart seems to pass quickly (I know it’s theatre and timelapse) between their ‘weekly’ visits, apparent though the lack of costume changes, changes to the layout of props and rather relaxed way Nigel just invites himself into the flat before asking whether he can “come through”. I assume he was buzzed up, but that would be inconsistent with the opening projection). Anyway, Tommy - a senior lecturer at Warwick University - also references his wife Celia and her role as an aid to none other than (mansion owning) Jeremy Corbyn, the reason Tommy can’t visit Nellie at Christmas. Whilst getting to know one another as the ‘weeks’ pass, between watching clips of This Morning (including a segment of someone accused of rape, 80s years of Snow White and Gino D’Campo cooking naked in a willy warmer knitted by Nellie). Whilst audio of the episodes would have sufficed for the same effect, the synchronization of the script along with the streaming of a segment with The Speakmans was very impressive as Nigel calls the This Morning studio and Nellie speaks directly on the show about her phobia of lifts, after a romp with Wheelchair Barry (one of many comical characters she references like Mary Cherry, Scotch Jimmy, Stan the Stammer and theatre director Cameron Middleton), meaning she can’t visit her doctor on the 13th floor of the health centre.
When Nigel isn’t there, sharing the indulgence of her Nespresso machine - the only thing that links her and George Clooney - Nellie spends all day internet shopping, before that she is persuaded to join the drama group in the communal room, something she enjoys when she beats Mary Cherry to get the lead role of Dolly in 'Dolly And Ken Come To Collyhurst'. Sadly she is banished from the group after her appearance on This Morning - which is off considering she had an alias, but they must have recognised her voice, disappointing considering she and Nigel had performed an, admittedly cleverly, adapted rendition of ‘Islands In The Stream’, with a focus on medical treatments and screams - we experience this after the interval and at the end of the show when we are encouraged to join in with a sing-a-long, but if it is not part of the drama group’s planned show, it has odd placement and sheer randomness in this show.
Whilst visiting, somehow managing to fit in his report of “how are you feeling, physically? mentally? and in yourself? have you been out?”, to which the answers are always the same, Nigel discloses the situation between his ex-wife (a shock in itself considering his campness) Mairhead, her new fella, and Nigel’s children Onya (Mia Eritt), who, with her ‘friend Sian’ is a gender fluid vegan feminist, and her brother Liam (Jake Hardman), who can do a great impression of Morrissey. With the help of Facebook, Nellie is able to help Nigel to video call them during some of his visits (this happens at the mere touch of a button, almost as magical as their ability to turn the TV off without a remote). When Nigel gets sacked from his role, he pops round to tell Nellie and, on Christmas Eve, she pops round to his place, on the 13th floor of a block, to start her therapy with him, asking the same questions he did, even ordering a Nespresso machine.
Whilst odd at times, it is clear that the script is written to be ad-libbed a bit, I hope as that’s how it seemed with its delivery, and that this kind of show is for people who will empathise with it and perhaps have no time not to sit and experience it, backed by an interview suggesting it go around sheltered accommodation homes. The idea is nice and the thought is there too but the bulk of the script and its execution left a lot to be desired for me. Very well done to MaD Theatre Company on the origination of the show and yet another, clearly, successful participation at the festival (despite a few empty seats tonight).
Their next show is ‘Food Bank Boulevard’ at The Lowry (30th Sept and 1st Oct) and Bury Met (30th Oct
Reviewer - John Kristof
on - 27/7/19
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