****
It’s such a shame that Kim Noble’s latest show is not in the comedy category of the Fringe brochure. I think it would have either won the Foster’s Award or caused the judging panel to explode or come to blows. I’d love to have been a fly on the wall listening to them discuss this funny and unsettling examination of loneliness and disconnectedness in an age when we are, paradoxically, more connected than ever.
I’m pretty familiar with Noble’s work and it usually takes your breath away. He does it here in a number of ways. By his sheer brass neck, audacity and courage to push things further than ever, but also by his sensitivity. He isn’t just shown taking a dump in a church, he is also shown tenderly washing his frail father.
There is also plenty of humour here, ranging from the bleak to the slapstick. There’s audience involvement that makes full-on immersive clown Dr Brown seem inhibited, while there is something about Noble's existential angst that overlaps with John Kearns’ absurdist musings.
Sometimes the comedy is positively broad. There are filmed scenes where Noble pretends to be a worker in various stores where he resembles a sick and twisted Dom Joly. And there is inevitable humour when he recalls various encounters with lonely men who think that he is a woman called Sarah. One hotel assignation ends particularly hilariously. It doesn’t look set up but you never quite know with Noble.
And that’s why this review doesn’t give it five stars. Despite his painful honesty in some respects in some other respects the authenticity is not always clear. Are all the audience members involved actually plants? Does everyone filmed give their consent and fully understand what is going on? Does Keith, the Morrison’s checkout man who Noble befriends, realise that he is part of a theatrical piece? These questions don't seem to be answered. Noble himself appears troubled, which makes watching him do certain things difficult to watch. Maybe these things are not important to others, but they are important to me.
There are various other ethical and privacy issues at play here, but to discuss them would spoil the show. Despite reservations this really is a definitive must-see piece of art. It’s very graphic, it’s not for the faint-hearted, narrow-minded or anyone who objects to seeing a man doing a runny shit in a church. For everyone else who has ever struggled to make connections with other people, experienced solitude or wondered what life is about this should be compulsory viewing.
At the Soho Theatre, W1 from Feb 3 – March 7. Tickets here.
