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.

SPENCER JONES: MAKING FRIENDS at the Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 11th April 2024

by Rosie Thomas

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DON’T. MAKE. TEA. | ★★★★★ | March 2024

PUDDLES PITY PARTY | ★★ | March 2024

LUCY AND FRIENDS | ★★★★★ | February 2024

AMUSEMENTS | ★★★★ | February 2024

WISH YOU WEREN’T HERE | ★★★ | February 2024

REPARATIONS | ★★★ | February 2024

SELF-RAISING | ★★★★★ | February 2024

FLIP! | ★★★★ | November 2023

BOY PARTS | ★★★★ | October 2023

BROWN BOYS SWIM | ★★★½ | October 2023

STRATEGIC LOVE PLAY | ★★★★★ | September 2023

KATE | ★★★★★ | September 2023

SPENCER JONES

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★★★★★

“a bold, razor-sharp comedy about what it really means to test someone”

Don’t. Make. Tea. is a dystopian satirical comedy set in 2037 directed by Robert Softley Gale and written by Rob Drummond. We meet Christine Dunlop (Gillian Dean) an ex-copper with OPMD who is losing her eyesight and mobility. As per the policy of “Accessible Britain”, she is being assessed on her disability benefits. Chris now finds herself the subject of interrogation in a Kafkaesque appointment with the sweet but sickly assessor Ralph (Neil John Gibson). The first part of the play focuses on establishing the premise of the assessment and takes it time exploring Chris’ life and her situation. Humour is squeezed out of the interview as she tries to navigate the questionnaire and lie detector with the sad realities of the present dominating the conversation. She is forced to perform the most horrible use of ‘heads, shoulders, knees and toes’ to date before a hugely climactic twist closes the first act.

The show makes an impressive use of tech and accessibility devices. It is audio-described by Able (Richard Conlon), a cross between ‘Siri’ and ‘Hal 9000’ who aids Chris but also spies on her. He delivers diegetic commentary throughout with wit and charm “Ralph looks like he’s had a hard life”. On the screen (provided by Chris’ accessibility benefits) is a sign language interpreter who translates the characters’ speech. The second act sees Chris experience hallucinations. Able, now embodied as her doting neighbour, and the BSL interpreter resembling Chris’ mother Francis (Emery Hunter), assist Chris in her predicament. We later meet Ralph’s supervisor and spouse, Jude (Nicola Chegwin), an oppositional and flawed woman who uses a wheelchair and is the creator of the ‘Work Pays’ system.

The set (Kenneth MacLeod) depicts a “tidy but tasteless” flat, as described by Able. Light blue details subtly depict the reach of “Accessible Britain”; the large screen, ‘Able’ speaker, the electrical outlets and even the front door button- which could all be taken away as a result of the assessment. Ralph’s assessment tools also painted the same clinical ‘NHS’ blue. The set is not all that it seems, with some fun surprises included. Lighting serves to accentuate the emotional state of Chris with vibrant colours (Grant Anderson) and spotlights. The screens sell the futuristic setting and add high quality effects (Jamie MacDonald).

Drummond uses a theoretically perfect future to highlight the problems of today whilst utilising accessibility features in an original and comical execution to a riveting premise. The characters are all as flawed as the systems they support and fight – with exception to Able and Francis, who make a great double act. Laughs originate from pithy observations and well-crafted gags equally. The midway turn in tone elevates the piece from satirical drama into absurd unpredictable thriller. By the end, the audience is left with the sobering note of the lengths Chris is forced to go. Don’t. Make. Tea is a bold, razor-sharp comedy about what it really means to test someone.

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.”

SPENCER JONES: MAKING FRIENDS at the Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 11th April 2024

by Rosie Thomas

Previously reviewed at this venue:

SPENCER JONES

SPENCER JONES

DON’T. MAKE. TEA. at the Soho Theatre

★★★★★

“a bold, razor-sharp comedy about what it really means to test someone”

DON’T. MAKE. TEA. at the Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 27th March 2024

by Jessica Potts

Photography by Andy Catlin

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DON’T MAKE TEA

DON’T MAKE TEA