Chotto Ookii, And Even My Goldfish

Review in Issue 18-4 | Winter 2006

A young man (tall) sits alone (mostly) and remembers a time when he was happy (probably), comforted by the sound of the sea. I would like it if more theatre were debuffed like Goldfish, stripped down to what is essential in order to communicate what is essential. It guarded its secrets so well. Parts of it were dramatically familiar – the sea as a resonant memory trigger, a love-to-irritation relationship arc – but then the rest of it really wasn’t: a fleet of persons carrying briefcases, heavenly dances become a fight for sofa space, a vacuum cleaner with tremendous suck. These scenes – on the whole pretty weird scenes – produced emotion without grounding it, generating a charge only released in standout moments of visual performance. A light on a flex cord swung round to become a lighthouse, turning the stage into a series of calm, static tableaux, eliminating the facial tics of the obsessive main character just as a deep memory emerged. It was simple – it really was just a light on a flex – but it took restraint and subtlety to set up dramatically. Another standout moment was the best visual representation of heartbreak I have ever seen… Images that were not only beautiful, but conveyed the intensity of the character’s feeling, which surely is what total theatre is all about.

Best Newcomers and Single Tallest Man. From the heart, for anyone young at heart. These reprobates done good.

Presenting Artists
Presenting Festival
Presenting Venue
Date Seen
  1. Aug 2006

This article in the magazine

Issue 18-4
p. 10