Reviews

It’s Always Right Now, Until It’s Later

Daniel Kitson, the bearded bard of the everyday extraordinary, has excelled himself. He wanted, he says, to fill the first moments of the morning with something silly and sad and wonderful.

He’s done that, and more: leaner, faster, gesticulating with controlled dramatic effect, he tells the parallel stories of William and Caroline, who had a moment, a nano-second, of shared epiphany when they passed each other at a bus stop; otherwise their lives diverge, and spool backwards, into separate universes.

Beckett says we are born astride the grave. Kitson defies mortality, seizes the moment and lights up the transient sky with his novelistic riffs and descriptive anecdotes in a cosmology of light bulbs.

Each bulb, each star, burns brighter as he illuminates each moment. It’s a deeply moving, absorbing and utterly brilliant performance; I’d say, one of the best, and best written, one-man shows I’ve ever seen.