★★★

“a bit weird, a bit erotic, rather silly, generally accessible, and quite short”

Two boys in skimpy underpants hop across the stage, arrange cucumbers on the floor, and you think, “Oh, it’s going to be one of those shows.” Vol 2.0 is a bit weird, a bit erotic, rather silly, generally accessible, and quite short.

At just under an hour, 45 Feet Tall’s Vol 2.0 doesn’t contain a lot of action. Much of it consists of the performers skipping in place, as if with an imaginary jump-rope. There is a fair amount of hoovering of the astroturf floor, and eating of cucumbers, and smashing of cucumbers against the astroturf floor, and a bit of play-wrestling, and some dialogue.

The theme, as far as I could tell, is distance and closeness; closeness, when welcomed, forming intimacy, and when unwelcome, causing intrusion. Whilst performing individual tasks, such as vacuuming the floor, the performers intrude each other’s space, get in the way of each other with entertaining physical exaggeration; but also, when they are aligned in their actions, they show a bond of personal closeness.

There are attempts also to pull the audience into this bizarre and personal world. The performers share intimate details about themselves in brief addresses to the audience, trying to drag us into their space, then punishing us for getting so close. Towards the end of the piece, one of the men writhes and shakes on the floor; we want to look away, but we know that we mustn’t. The approach is methodical – bring the audience closer to make them more vulnerable. It’s like Miss Havisham plotting to destroy the hearts of men, but decidedly more twinkish.

That is the white cotton elephant in the room – the decision to dress the performers only in shirts and underpants was probably meant to emphasise their vulnerability, but it inadvertently gives the show a dimension of confused sexual politics, beyond which it is distracting and a bit silly. (Especially with all that jumping, if you get what I mean).

Reviewed by Louis Train

Photography by Ali Wright

Pickle Jar

Soho Theatre

Reviewed – 26th October 2018

★★★★★

“the characters, despite being created only through shifts in Rice’s voice and posture, are three-dimensional and complex”

In what presents as a comedy monologue, but quickly evolves into a troubling modern tale, Maddie Rice writes and performs the part of Miss, a well-meaning and slightly prudish teacher. At school, Miss fills the traditional role of a stable, sexless mentor to her precocious charges while in her private life she is between relationships and desperately at sea amid the dangers of urban dating. The comic potential of two worlds in conflict is successfully mined for the first half, as Rice skilfully conjures a recognisable collection of characters.

Then, just as we wonder where all this is going, a tragic event at school triggers Miss to begin to unravel. Fighting off the intrusive concern of the school’s councillor, Laura, with her wheedling voice and mindfulness techniques, Miss hits the Pina Coladas and revisits the nightclub where she had experienced an assault at the hands of a colleague, about which she had been silent.

Several details elevate the showcase above the usual wry look at modern life. The direction by Katie Pesskin is crisp, with smart use of lighting (Mark Dymock) and sound (Dominic Kennedy). The script is genuinely funny and the characters, despite being created only through shifts in Rice’s voice and posture, are three-dimensional and complex, from handsome food-tech teacher Eric and jolly but morally bereft flatmate Mairead, to charming Raj at the corner shop and an array of street-wise pupils.

Although this is her writing debut, Rice is an accomplished performer having toured in the stage version of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s ‘Fleabag’ and played various parts in Comedy Central’s ‘Every Blank Ever’. Her role in ‘Fleabag’ provides a jumping off point for the character of Miss, but here the bawdy Saturday Night style is mellowed by an emotional authenticity and pin sharp observation. For example, the simple set (Ben Target and Tom Hartshorne) features two mounds and a sapling to represent the place in a school playing field where the girls have their heart-to-hearts. In the script, too, character is never sacrificed for easy laughs. When Miss admits that it’s high time she bought toilet rolls, kitchen rolls and sausage rolls for the flat, we realise it’s because Mairead has been excusing her these duties, exposing both the flatmate’s softer side and the extent of Miss’s fragility.

All this gives a powerful sense of reality to the show’s narrative and themes, but as serious as these are, the comedy never goes cold. Brilliant writing and performance are vital to pull of this balancing act and this one woman show gives us both barrels.

Etcetera Theatre

Reviewed – 18th November 2018

★★★

“a bit weird, a bit erotic, rather silly, generally accessible, and quite short”

Two boys in skimpy underpants hop across the stage, arrange cucumbers on the floor, and you think, “Oh, it’s going to be one of those shows.” Vol 2.0 is a bit weird, a bit erotic, rather silly, generally accessible, and quite short.

Reviewed by Louis Train

Photography by Ali Wright

Vol 2.0

Etcetera Theatre

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Pickle Jar

Soho Theatre

Reviewed – 26th October 2018

★★★★★

“the characters, despite being created only through shifts in Rice’s voice and posture, are three-dimensional and complex”

All this gives a powerful sense of reality to the show’s narrative and themes, but as serious as these are, the comedy never goes cold. Brilliant writing and performance are vital to pull of this balancing act and this one woman show gives us both barrels.

Reviewed by Dominic Gettins

Photography by Ali Wright

Pickle Jar

Soho Theatre until 10th November

Previously reviewed at this theatre: