Vertigo
Due to
an administrative error, two one-person shows, both called
Vertigo, have been booked into the same slot at
Bedlam. Fortunately for all concerned, the performers are content to
muddle through and make the best of it, putting on their shows
simultaneously.
She is
doing a play about trying to recreate the euphoria she once felt at
the age of 14. He is doing a “think piece” on the dangers of existence. What the two shows become when played side-by-side, however, is
a beautiful reflection on growing up and the absurdities of life.
The
two sets of stories – from ‘fishing’ in flowerbeds and falling off
first bikes to dying of heartache and jumping out of planes – are
cleverly interlinked, with the actors playing off each other’s
experiences in a way that feels utterly natural. The show is
performed as if each performance is the first, the pair working
around each other to pursue their own narratives and frequently being
called upon to help each other out, with often hilarious results. The
aesthetic and tone of Vertigo is
deliberately ramshackle and charming with it, the
actors getting the audience on side and keeping them there from the
very first moment of the show.
It’s not often that I find myself laughing through tears in the theatre, but this is exactly what Vertigo caused me to do. This unlikely little show is one of the loveliest pieces of theatre you’re likely to see
this Fringe. It’s only on until next weekend. Don’t miss it, whatever
you do.
