Matt and Joey are two child-adults who live together in a disco bunker underground. They’ve been here awhile, though not so long their spirits arereally getting low, and when they do feel down they cheer themselves up with a bit of hip-hop music on the turntable, maybe a synchronised dance routine. Occasionally they still try using their comms to contact Alpha 9, in case of rescue, and Matt has a little dictaphone that he speaks into, recording any changes in situation, which amounts to how the bunker’s systems are working – as the lights, air con and wall-mounted sound thingummies often seem to fail. If Joey’s in the tiny bathroom broom-cupboard (top half of sliding wall made of gauze so you can see what he’s up to), Matt might quietly record how annoying he is.
The bunker is a bizarre mix of Tomorrow’s World (mid to late 80s) and Ikea catalogue (section: teenager’s bedroom), with all sorts of little storage compartments for keeping things like toilet roll, roller skates and vinyl records. Gizmos on the wall deliver their spaceman discs of dinner, regulate the air supply and stress levels, and one, when not being used to attempt to contact Alpha 9, doubles up as a cool little touchscreen looping machine for ad hoc bursts of DJing. The bunker is the tourbus, and Matt Bailey and Joey D were on tour for a very long time with their previous, first and highly acclaimed show Flhip Flhop.
I didn’t see Flhip Flhop so can’t compare the two. I imagine that they are rather similar – a loose narrative allowing the two to perform comedy set pieces, like the hilarious, grin-inducing ‘80s workout’ which is the highlight of the show. The puerile pair are a hugely likeable and uncomplicated double act, producing an hour of performance that is funny and easy to watch, enjoyable nonsense. Though the set pieces are not unexpected, the content is refreshingly unselfconscious. These guys are, happily, not concerned about whether their music tastes could be conceived as a tiny bit ‘old-school’, or whether they might, actually, be slightly larger than your average breakdancer. This pays off in their charming, smooth and assured delivery, which is mixed with a few early-tour nerves that will surely be ironed out before too long.
Occasionally, I wished for a bit more narrative about why Joey and Matt find themselves living in an anachronistic-futuristic shed buried underground, but really, it’s not necessary. This show would be gold (or at least, gold candyfloss) if only it had a few more of the tight, unusual comedy routines that Rannel do so well.