★★★★★

“a timeless and emotive piece of theatre, perfectly silly and sensitive”

This is a 10 year anniversary revival of a beautiful piece that has lost none of its composure. Captain Amazing is a tour de force of storytelling, with Mark Weinman nimbly navigating over 10 different characters across the piece. His range is extraordinary, and the show would be worth seeing just for this performance.

Each character is remarkably well executed with Weinman using his full physicality, and the bright red cape he dons throughout, to embody everyone from a downtrodden DIY sales assistant (also called Mark), to his little girl Emily, to an estate agent for superheroes. This means that though there are plenty of laugh out loud physical comedy skits, the emotional weight of the final third lands exactly where it needs to.

The plot follows a slightly hapless man through a relationship, accidental parenthood, and the early years of developing a relationship with his daughter. Interspersed between this story are vignettes featuring Captain Amazing, a superhero who can fly and shoot lasers from his eyes. These are initially the source of much of the comedy in the piece; the tumble drier ruining a superhero costume was a highlight. But the fooling around also gives way to some bigger questions, even from the dastardly Evil Man who asks how on earth he is meant to be good if everyone expects him to be evil.

Alistair McDowall’s accomplished script then leads the audience through the worst loss imaginable. This is sensitively and simply done, focussing on Mark and Emily’s connection throughout a huge challenge.

Mark’s navigation through grief is then contrasted with superhero scenes of Captain Amazing struggling to find time to talk with other superhero mates. Both Mark and Captain Amazing start to unravel in a spiral of pain through the sense of isolation and disconnection. However, the piece ends with a chink of hope, with the audience left on an uplifting note without being mawkish.

Designer Georgia de Grey has done an incredible job with the deceptively simple set. A backdrop provides the exaggerated perspective of a room, and is covered in what looks like plain white papier mache. It becomes a canvass for childish comic book illustrations which punctuate Weinman’s performance, leaving an indelible record of his memory on stage. Lighting (carefully used by Will Monks) then is dialled up to increase and decrease the contrast during the superhero scenes, but never entirely fades away, especially as the lines get blurred between fantasy and reality in the denouement.

With only one man and one red chair on stage, Director Clive Judd creates hugely engaging worlds in both reality and the fantasy realm, which for the fantastical subject matter are also instantly recognisable. For a piece that ultimately navigates bereavement, Captain Amazing also revels in joy and escapism. I can see why it already has a ten year history. This is a timeless and emotive piece of theatre, perfectly silly and sensitive.

SPENCER JONES: MAKING FRIENDS at the Soho Theatre

★★★★

“a delightfully silly hour with real heart, and the most representative chicken-owning experience I have ever seen on stage”

The more time passes since the pandemic, the rarer you see the topic is raised on stage. Four years on, I was a bit hesitant to be reminded of lockdown induced madness in Making Friends, though to give Spencer Jones’ credit, this seems to have developed into a more permanent state thanks to a move to Devon.

The show is a stand up hour of musical comedy that reflects on Jones’ attempts to find connection, at first with his kids, then animals, then the other blokes in the village. It is structured around a number of tracks he produces live through clever looping and vocal effects. These lean heavily into surrealism, featuring an entertaining cast of potential friends (mostly puppets and false teeth) Jones has created in his garage. They stay on the right side of sectionable to be funny throughout.

Spencer plays the part of home-bound harried dad well, dressed in a red velvet dressing gown, socks and a rainbow sweatband. To dial up the ridiculousness, there’s a foam tube that becomes a shoulder pad, and a black plastic bag from an off licence has a brief but memorable role.

You’ll recognise Spencer Jones from recurring character roles on programmes like Upstart Crow, Ted Lasso, and The Mind of Herbert Clunkerdunk. He is great at adopting a slight change to expression, posture and accent to create a caricature of someone ordinary but instantly recognisable. I particularly enjoyed Jones’ portrayal of a number of west country locals and their dentistry. I can vouch for their accuracy: one of them could well be my Grandad Norman.

“There are a surplus of other ideas that feel played to their full potential in this versatile and high-energy hour.”

A number of props and puppetry devices are strewn messily over the small Soho Downstairs stage like we are walking into Jones’ garage. He bounces around between the mixing deck, cardboard portraits, a guitar, and papier mache masks and heads. On the whole these are enjoyably chaotic, but occasionally some of the interloper characters are too brief and deflate a couple of jokes; there’s a neon crocodile that went entirely over my head. An aside about soup also fell a little flat after audience interactions went left field and a section about Siri also felt underdeveloped. However, what I at first assumed to be an udder turned out to be something much funnier. In many ways I’m impressed with the commitment to what must have been hours with paper and glue for a single pay off.

The through line centres around the acquisition of a number of chickens, who very literally introduce Jones to the concept of pecking order. As a non-Londoner I have sad memories of childhood hens turning against me with painful consequences, and Spencer recreates this betrayal accurately.

There are a surplus of other ideas that feel played to their full potential in this versatile and high-energy hour. The guitar, like Chekhov’s gun, foreshadows a sad indie man finale that delivers on the underwhelming beta maleness at the heart of this show. It also really gets the spirit of my favourite housemate (my dad) during the pandemic.

At the end of the show, Jones announces another house move which feels like it is medically prescribed. It’s a timely reminder that Rightmove does not have all the answers, and that is frankly a public service. Ultimately, Making Friends is a delightfully silly hour with real heart, and the most representative chicken-owning experience I have ever seen on stage.

CAPTAIN AMAZING at Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★★

“a timeless and emotive piece of theatre, perfectly silly and sensitive”

CAPTAIN AMAZING at Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 2nd May 2024

by Rosie Thomas

Photography by Ali Wright

Previously reviewed at this venue:

CAPTAIN AMAZING

CAPTAIN AMAZING

SPENCER JONES: MAKING FRIENDS at the Soho Theatre

★★★★

“a delightfully silly hour with real heart, and the most representative chicken-owning experience I have ever seen on stage”

“There are a surplus of other ideas that feel played to their full potential in this versatile and high-energy hour.”