I think that if you’re going to be held hostage, live on stage, by Microsoft PowerPoint then it’s probably best if you’re in the middle of a performance of an Absurdist comedy piece. Because Bill Gates’ presentation software (other software is available) was playing the giddy goat in the middle of Fire Donkey’s show. The two actors, Liam McKenna and Polly Preston, took the IT crisis in their stride with the bare minimum of the visible panic they must have been feeling.
As for the play itself? God almighty, I don’t know. I know it happened, but I’m still not sure what happened. I’m not entirely sure I can offer a coherent synopsis. You’d probably think I’d suffered a head injury or been out in the woods, under the influence of a full moon, eating magical mushrooms straight from the loam.
Would you believe that this was a recruitment seminar for “progressive spiritual movement” (definitely not a death cult, 300 members worldwide, only three blood sacrifices to date) built around Phil, the youthful face of Kool ’n’ Sooth, a popular migraine treatment towel of the early 80’s?
See? I told you it would sound insane! And that’s me glossing over a psychotic monkey, a talking banana and ‘Barry the Beast’ who gets speared to death by members of the audience.
Yes, there was a certain degree of audience involvement. I was invited up to play “The Migraine Menace”, clad in black domino mask and cape, at one point. In retrospect I think it was some of my best work.
Liam McKenna as cult seminar leader “Liam” is a tightly-bound bundle of unhinged energy as he presents and excuses the byzantine rules of the cult progressive spiritual movement. Polly Preston as “Polly” is an even more unsettling presence, a mixture of little-girl innocence and terrifying obsession to the cause. Biddable, put-upon, but willing to go far further than her superior.
There was an appealing grubby anarchy to the whole exercise. We could have really been in the depths of a converted picture house held hostage by politeness. The IT failure was almost a blessing, adding to the random nature of the whole thing. Maybe it was intentional? I don’t know now. I don’t know anything anymore.
All I do know is that I have now taken the pledge and I’m a loyal supplicant to the Church of Phil. I will take the pilgrimage down the hard shoulder of the M4 to Pembrokeshire and prostate myself in front of the holy relics of Kool ’n’ Sooth.
Barry the Beast commands it.
reviewed by Ben Thomas
