Twins, living on an island 99 metres off the coast of Bournemouth, greet the audience. They are standing in a fish tank. “I’'m Peter,” says the young woman, played by Susie Riddell, “and I really like the SAS.” It’'s the first of many inexplicable, unexpected moments in a hugely enjoyable oddball tale about choosing to be stranded and living life in limbo.
The dynamic between the twins is deftly written by Anna Harpin and Jimmy Whiteaker, designed to be tender and menacing in equal measure. Peter appears in control, all hilarious clenched tension and ordering Finnegan (Adam Fuller) to repeat pointless games: picking up bits of paper and putting them in a tin as he counts to 10, “We play that game every Tuesday!” Peter cries, having already told us that every day is Tuesday on the island, marking the last time they had a visitor.
Peter talks nervously and endlessly, cheerily recalling how her 7ft tall mother drowned in her tears after their father hanged himself; Finnegan remains almost silent, mouthing what Peter’s saying as he looks hopelessly to land. but Finnegan is the one who has tried to escape before, scuppered only by Peter throwing the contents of his suitcase away and filling it with water instead.
Beyond the peculiar details and many laughs, –some come from deliciously executed moments of audience interaction, this is a vivid portrayal of loneliness and the desperate strategies to conceal it. Riddell and Fuller are a brilliant double act, with dreamy comic timing and pace, but they wisely underplay the sudden darker moments to give them real impact. This is fresh writing, full of rather warped notions and damaged souls, that is laugh out loud funny but also shockingly sad.
Elisabeth Mahoney, The Guardian. Monday 26th Sept 2011
Entering after a warm reception in the foyer where everyone was given Rum and Ginger Beer in washed-out baked bean tins, the audience are greeted in the studio space by ‘identical’ twins Peter and Finnegan. Both are stood in a fishtank of blue water, Finnegan communicating through semaphore and Peter through exaggerated expression. There is a sense of excitement in the air, as the twins finally have some visitors!
We are somewhere off the coast of England, on a small isle not far from Bournemouth and Brownsea. Here the twins ritually rehearse their tour of the island on a daily basis, doing their best to live by the ‘celebrated’ Modern Guide to Manual Living and Hygiene: the only item that their parents left the stranded pair. It is a routine filled with exhausted laughter and repetition to hide mutual resentment and loneliness – a set-up in the finest absurdist traditions which this deliciously, darkly humorous performance explores.
Slowly, the context of the twin's situation is revealed; what began as a very funny performance inventively undermines itself as we learn how bleak their lives truly are. One almost feels guilty for at first laughing, but this is handled with care by Idiot Child so as not to play against itself, bringing instead gravitas to the world that the pair have invited us into. There is no fourth wall here – we intimately share and interact with the actions of these twins. In the grimaced laughter of Susie Riddell as Peter, we watch the mask she has created for herself slowly crack to reveal her hidden pain, while Adam Fuller as Finnegan, barely caring to speak, longs for something more and yet remains on this isle bound only by love, despite the building animosity he holds for Peter. Both communicate so much through action and though Riddell holds the weight of the dialogue the pair deliver equally expressive impressive performances.
The direction is precise and commendable. The work is inventive and fresh. The space is used intelligently and very effectively, with simplistic and powerful signifiers; the use of shoes that reveal the fate of their parents is particularly poignant and the animated sequences blend perfectly within the setting of the piece. It is therefore surprising that in what is a very well edited work the only criticism comes from two movement sequences that seem a little too long and jar with the narrative flow. These are used to develop the bond between the twins and explore their emotions, but they felt incongruous and in need of enhanced choreography. However, this is merely a minor note in what is essentially a fabulous piece of work and one that certainly deserves to be celebrated.
Thomas Bacon, Total Theatre, Tuesday 20th September 2011
It’s amazing what washes up on an island. An almost uninhabited island off the coast of Bournemouth – in this case, a Bournemouth overrun by Mormons – and in this case, Idiot Child have washed up girl twin Peter and boy twin Finnegan on it (and their friend David who is played by a coconut).
Oh what a special, special but deeply strange world they live in and hurrah!! we are allowed to visit it for an hour and the twins are giving us a guided tour! So, what do twins whose mummy and daddy died when they were 12 do all day, year in, year out in the tiny completely isolated world of their imagination?
Well, they do some very very unusual, worrying, mentalist and blackly twisted things, I can tell you. But I’m not going to tell you A SINGLE THING about the things they do or say, not about the shoes, nor the Rockpool of Death, or the fish-head, or the game of picky uppy putty inny or the predicting. I’m only going to tell you that I let myself down badly about halfway through by making snorty laughing noises for a long time, and felt that I hadn’t done it right, but I feel strongly that you should go and that there is every chance that you will do it right.
Rina Vergano, Venue, Tuesday 20th September 2011
Venue - Theatre Review 2011
Back at The Brewery, other highlights of an excellent second-year at the Tobacco Factory’s increasingly confident studio theatre included......another outing from the excellent Idiot Child Theatre with ‘You’re Not Doing It Right’, a tender and comic paean to awkwardness.
I could've been better
Studio, Bristol Old Vic 2012
I Could’ve Been Better takes us into the world of the wonderfully unique James, a thirty-something social oddity. Gangly in limb, adorned with a nondescript blue shirt tucked deep into pleated plain trousers that hover at his ankles above verruca socks, he stands with his back toward the incoming audience.
As we take out seats, rarely does he let his attention slip from the film of an out-of-focus figure projected upon a large screen at the rear of the space. Its footage constantly evolves and revolves around and through a dreamlike milieu of domestic chores as we glimpse a figure in iconic yellow marigolds who at times appears to incongruously shadow-box as much as wash dishes. This presence is James’ centre, it is the Sun in his universe and his reason to be. Surrounding it, as part of Chris Gylee’s set design, are the objet d'art more befitting a child than a grown man: toys, a wooden railway, a swimming pool made of sweets, and a cardboard cut-out of Duncan Goodhew to name just a few. Each holds an invaluable worth and is deftly brought to life by James as he welcomes us into the cut and thrust of his life as a Railway Station Announcer in a sleepy English hamlet.
Jimmy Whiteaker’s performance as James deftly mixes comical physicality with a sense of the truth and realism at the heart of this character’s mixed up world in a way that is disarming and extremely powerful. The performance begins with the words, 'Nothing is Happening', and in a similar way this false start somehow unsuspectingly draws us into a tale which on the surface is very funny, yet is also deeply poignant. For here is a world of failure; of could-have-beens and almost-hads. It is at heart a classic comical tragedy, with our protagonist the victim of circumstance and his own inability to succeed.
With the spoken narrative told in the present tense, Whiteaker vibrantly lives moments both past and present before us in a desperate struggle through which failure is ultimately celebrated rather than cursed. From the nervous heights of a diving board, to the boredom of waiting for the delayed 4:14 from Biggleswade, we are taken on a unique journey. Acknowledged through spontaneous improvisation, we are witnesses to his attempts to succeed, but this breaking of the fourth wall never truly detracts from the world – by being involved and connected with James we love the obscure fool all the more. Indeed James doesn’t think in a linear way, and so for the man ‘who has never been on a train’ it seems appropriate that moments of spontaneous distraction should be encompassed by the performance as he recollects how at 30 he entered an over 10s swimming competition to attempt to defeat his 12 year-old nemesis, Veronica 'ShitFace' Barr.
It is ultimately the strength of this wondrous company that, as with their previous production You’re not doing it right, they effortlessly strip back external perception to reveal the heart of a character with simple key changes of dramatic tone. The life of this man is not simplistic. He is beautifully complicated and the song 'My Funny Valentine' has never felt so appropriately applied than here within the world of our station announcer’s life.
Anna Harpin’s direction of the tragic lives of misfits continues to be intelligent and real. Ending with points failure and delays at the station the denouement of I Could’ve Been Better is beautifully heartbreaking, and Idiot Child is becoming a company not to be missed.
Thomas Bacon, Total Theatre, 6th October 2012
‘Co-writers Whiteaker and Anna Harpin who also directs, have created a truly magnetic and unusual world that distils the inanity of everyday routine then adds the quiet little oddities that life throws up.’ Gill Kirk, WOS, 3rd Oct 2012
‘This is innovative, intelligent and quirky theatre...I Could’ve Been Better is hilarious and poignant in turns and captivating throughout…a gem of a show. Idiot Child is a company to watch.’ Meg Whelan, WOS, 5th Oct 2012
‘There is a wonderful unpredictability about (Jimmy Whiteaker's) performance, and a genuine warmth and engagement. It makes conventional theatre seem to run on tramlines.’
'This is heart-piercing stuff. Don't miss it' Avril Silk, 30th Oct 2012
'But although I could've been better hints at a deeper sadness, it is primarily very, very funny, and Whiteaker's performance is superb' Brenda Dillon, 30th Oct 2012
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