Flyboy is alone again at Christmas

Matthew Robins, 1 January 2011
The Pit, Barbican Theatre, London
I first experienced the delight of Matthew Robins’ creations at the (highly recommended) London Word Festival in March last year. We went to see a chap I used to work with some years ago, making pie charts, Terry Saunders (now rather successful at pursuits more creative than making pie charts), who is bloody funny and you should all go and see him.

However, Matthew’s show was quite something else. And, honestly, quite difficult to describe. Imagine a stage with a piano and several musicians, a big white sheet hanging at the back and the featured stage piece – an overhead projector. ‘How old school!’ I hear you proclaim. Well yes, but this projector is being used in way that data analysts and financial managers could never have envisioned.

To tell his wonderful, simple, heart-breaking stories, Matthew uses black cardboard, cut into the most beautiful silhouettes. Puppeteer Tim Spooner, has the unenviable task of getting the next set of silhouettes onto the projector in time to emote in a puppet-like fashion in time with the lyrics. Between Matthew, Tim and the other musicians, they tell the tales of Flyboy, Mothboy and Sad Lucy, a Wicker Cat, snakes, aliens, the Devil, robots and often include a trip to the zoo. The lyrics are simple recitative, dropped over lovely tuneful background melodies, with great arrangements for woodwind, brass and strings. They tell gentle tales of lost love, loneliness and the helpfulness of elephants, particularly when rewarded with buns.

The Barbican show included a Christmas themed story, with our protagonist, the half-boy, half-fly, Flyboy facing the festive season alone after his family abandoned him and his unrequited feelings for his friend Mothboy go ignored again. Fortunately Flyboy pays a visit to the Planet of the Haunted Snowmen (where snowmen go after they melt), to discover it has drifted too close to the sun and all the snowmen are melting. He saves the day with the help of some passing aliens and a couple of bun-rewarded elephants, dragging the planet far enough away from the sun, and they all enjoy Christmas turkey together.

This is one of a dozen charming stories in the show’s repertoire. There are non-shadow puppet segments, set against a tiny stage on the front of the stage-proper and projected via video onto the big screen. There’s Nosferatu and Me (another trip to the zoo) and the joyful Woolter Knitty, a knitted glove puppet with a wobbly button eye, who hatches dinosaur eggs in his greenhouse (incorporating a slew of paper-and-pipecleaner dinosaurs made by the audience at interval).

While it all sounds like something for the kids, these are themes that fail to leave you in adulthood and the far-from-childish show is a chance to slow down and remember the things that used to please you as a kid. There are darker elements that will slide over the heads of wee ones and strike a chord with anyone who’s ever felt left out or left behind. At the same time, Matthew’s creations are filled with happiness, love and hope, the lonely moments cast aside in the glow of friendship and helping one another.

In a world of hi-tech, sophisticated production values, multi-layered storylines and whining adult-problem-themed stories, the beautiful, delicate innocence of Matthew Robins and Flyboy are more than just a breath of fresh air. They are a touch of the magical.
Links
www.sadlucy.com (official site)