Tom Lenk – Nerdgasm

Soho Theatre, London, Friday 7 January 2011

I’m not going to pretend that I have loftier reasons than curiosity for going to see Tom Lenk’s one man show. I know he was in Buffy The Vampire Slayer, I liked him in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I liked him enough to start following him on Twitter last year. I liked him enough on Twitter to keep following him, especially when I discovered that aside from his portrayal of the hapless, hilarious and marvellously dweeby Andrew Wells (one of Buffy’s three nemesis-es-es), he’s a theatre nerd. Like me.

If you know nothing about Tom, here’s his Wikipedia page for you to go ‘oh yeah, I kinda remember him’ or ‘nope, still don’t know him’, in which case, you’ll just have to trust me.

So, what’s in a one man show by the guy that had a side role in one of the biggest hit shows in American TV? Well, happily, nothing much about Buffy. Or vampires. Despite Lenk’s cheerful embrace of the fact that 90% of his audience (including me) would be Buffy fans, there were only two mentions of the show (and no gossip, because it was, in his words, ‘f**king awesome’ to work on) and one lead into a hilarious reinactment of comments from an online ‘hot or not’ interview he did with a website geared for 12-14 year old girls. Hilarious, mostly, because Lenk is gay. Oh, so wonderfully gay.

Lenk spent a season in the Broadway cast of Rock of Ages last year (introducing me to the term ‘jukebox musical’ which is highly appropriate for those shows that string a series of vaguely-related hits together with a loose plotline), and the bulk of Nerdgasm relates to this period - his (and all theatre nerds’) dreams of Broadway and what it would be like versus the reality of working eight shows a week with a cast who’ve been entrenched in routine for a year.

Lenk’s style is madly over the top, wonderfully pacy and gaspingly gay. But where such campness could alienate a crowd, even a receptive one like this, it is engaging, endearing and vastly enjoyable. He’ll have you in tears of laughter one second, explaining a ‘dreamboard’ he created in high school and close to tears of empathy the next, casually mentioning in the cast member who didn’t speak to him for the entire run and being Photoshop’d out of the cast photo billboards. The show is intensely personal, and insanely hilarious, particularly for those of us with any theatre experience. I worked as a professional stage manager in Australia for 15 years and my chap has been in amateur dramatics since childhood, so we shared Lenk’s dream of creative brainstorms, group hugs and freedom to express yourself and the disillusion of working with jaded professionals for minimum wage, their creativity usurped by producers pandering to reality-TV fed audiences.

It takes considerable skill to engage an audience and even more skill to keep them engaged, but this is something Tom Lenk possesses in bucketloads. His self-effacing attitude to his appearance, sexuality and dance moves (‘muppet arms!’) serve only to drawn you in, eagerly awaiting the next story. British audiences are, in my experience, notably unresponsive during shows, preferring to save their appreciation to the end, and in a tiny space like the Soho Theatre Studio, every pause for breath teeters close to uncomfortable silence. But Lenk slashes through the gaps with asides (‘awkward transition..’) and ploughs into the next segment, hauling us joyfully along with him. Accompanied only by a guitarist, he belts self-penned parodies based on his Broadway experiences, rustles up instant artwork (including some from the audience) and confesses bittersweet tales of life on Broadway.

With continuing appearances in major Hollywood films, Tom Lenk could well become the ‘where have I seen that guy before’ guy, but in my opinion, musical theatre, writing and comedy are his true calling and I have no doubt this is where he’ll continue to shine. Bring it all back to London soon!

Links
www.tomlenk.com 
@tomlenk

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)