Tag Archives: Kat Heath

EXXY

★★★★★

UK Tour

EXXY

Battersea Arts Centre

★★★★★

“beautiful in its simplicity”

‘Exxy’ starts us in a quiet, dusty South Australian garden. Saltbush scattered through the trees, plastic garden chairs patterned with flowers, corrugated iron (set design Kat Heath), and a kindly unseen character ‘nan’ create a safe playground on stage. Dan sets a similar tone, encouraging us to tic, stim and relax; we should be unapologetically ourselves, setting an environment to go on some self-exploration.

Dan Daw, a queer, crippled artist, transports the audience to the rural Australian outback where he grew up, working class and with very little, to explore the route of his imposter syndrome. Dan is joined by three performers who walk and talk like him, finding comfort and resilience in the possibility of finally blending in after a lifetime of standing out. Sofía Valdiri, Tiiu Mortley and Joe Brown together with Dan wonderfully bring raw and honest characters to their engaging performances. They show us the world full of competition, capitalism, and drive, where your worth is measured against a pre-conceived idea of success.

The world says you’re too disabled, or not disabled enough, fighting to show you as a fraud, demanding, “¿Quién eres? qui es-tu?” but not waiting for an answer. The show forces the audience to listen to the performers talk about themselves, and to see them. To see them as they dance and move and show us the pain they’ve endured by being forced to fit in and “corrected”.

However, not only do Dan and the performers reject this world, but they also tell us how they burst through it. The saltbush winds its way through the story and the stage, resilient like the performers, “not because I need to be”, but because it’s beautiful to be.

The show matched whimsy with wailing. Punchlines with pain. The characters took us from smiling, jokey and bashful, to showing us disabled bodies moving and dancing and unflinchingly professing their true feelings. Dan and Sarah Blanc’s rousing co-direction keeps us on our toes right from the start. They, along with Nao Nagai’s lighting  and Lewis Gibson’s sound, make cohesive choices from a range of theatre tech and effects, all the way down to the tennis ball machine firing right at the audience. Through it all, however, we’re always encouraged that we’re in a safe space. The surprises are gently packaged, and everything is done with a glint in the performers’ eyes.

Exxy is beautiful in its simplicity. The performers made the audience see them for what they are: disabled and beautiful. They showed us the difficulty they had faced from the world, but then how they rejected it. They remind us what they are not, and what we are. An excellent performance all round.

 

 

EXXY

Battersea Arts Centre then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 7th October 2025 for thespyinthestalls.com

Photography by Hugo Glendinning


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

BLUE BEARD | ★★★★ | April 2024
SOLSTICE | ★★★★ | December 2023
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD | ★★½ | December 2022
TANZ | ★★★★ | November 2022
HOFESH SHECTER: CONTEMPORARY DANCE 2 | ★★★★★ | October 2022

 

 

EXXY

EXXY

EXXY

Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen

Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen

★★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

FEELING AFRAID AS IF SOMETHING TERRIBLE IS GOING TO HAPPEN at Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★★

 

Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen

 

“exciting, original and very funny”

 

Samuel Barnett plays a stand-up comedian in his Edinburgh debut performance of Marcelo Dos Santos’s new play. He’s thirty-six, which he reassures us is fine in a tone of voice which suggests it’s maybe not. He’s incredibly neurotic, hopelessly single, spending his days scrolling through headless torsos on Grindr and working on his stand-up routines. Every so often we’re treated to a new gag, which range from jokes about Wetherspoons to feeling like you’re going to die if there’s blood in your cum to having the urge to crush a kitten to death with your bare hands. I think Barnett proves that any joke can be funny if the delivery is done right. At one point he even deconstructs the delivery of a perfect joke: the rule of three, alliteration, words which suddenly become funny when juxtaposed with something unexpected. I’m a bit of a nerd for writing theory so loved this bit. As the play plays with form itself, in a stand-up routine which becomes theatre (or vice-versa), it’s very interested in the masking of one form with the other, just as the character masks his underlying anxieties with his jokes.

But when he meets a new man known only as the ‘American’, his jokes just aren’t going to cut it. The American has an uncommon medical conditions where laughing could literally kill him. So he can’t laugh at any of his jokes, even though he reassures him he really does find them funny. Barnett’s character – who doesn’t seem to be given a name – ends up jeopardising the relationship, the first proper relationship of his thirty-six years, and the story ends on a brilliant punchline, which we realise it’s been working towards from quite early on. It’s great.

Barnett’s timing, of both the comedy and the desperation, is impeccable. He’s on full speed from the moment the lights go up and it feels like he hardly stops from breath. And then the moments he does, the moments when he drops the mic and lets us really hear him, we cling on to, hoping we might find some truths, hoping we might be trusted enough to let him be vulnerable for a moment. Matthew Xia’s direction astutely sets the pace of Santos’s text, and works brilliantly to ensure Barnett connects with each and every person in the audience as he whizzes around the stage. It very much feels like we’re at a comedy gig in the way Barnett forms his rapport with us. He rolls his eyes and we feel like rolling ours with him. Each expression and tiny gesture is carefully timed and delivered. We’re totally there with him and his frustrations at the American for not getting slapstick, and other British cultural references. The whole performance is totally captivating.

At the heart of the story, of the jokes, is a comedian, a man in his mid-thirties, living in London and feeling incredibly lonely. And when someone sees this for what it is, he struggles to decide whether or not he can let himself open up. We don’t really find out what happens in the end, but the final gag we’re left with suggests there probably is quite a bit of hope for this character. It’s an exciting, original and very funny new play, with a magnificent, five-star performance from Barnett at the helm.

 

Reviewed 12th August 2022

by Joseph Winer

 

 

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