The Box at Assembly, George Square
Until the 24th (17:05)
Ben Pope’s show this year is, ostensibly, a tale of how a 32-year-old man came to voluntarily have a circumcision. In reality, ‘the cut’ itself takes up a relatively small amount of the material, and instead themes of loss, identity, and men’s relationships with their genitals are covered in this well performed piece of storytelling, with jokes, captivating physical performance & buckets of smart word play thrown in to leaven the tone.
‘This is what you get when a Librarian & a Drama Teacher have children’, Ben announces near the start of the show, and this is as much a comment on his tousled haired, slightly bookish, appearance as it is on his ability to pull endless synonyms and plays on words out of the air and deliver them with matching physicality, eyebrows, gesticulations and expertly timed pauses all masterfully punctuating his monologue. Speaking of identity, we also discover that ‘Ben’ is short for Benedict, and given his papal surname, this makes for a significant challenge when trying to figure out how to drive search engine traffic in his direction rather than that of, as he describes him, the direction of the Vatican dwelling ‘wrinkled Jamiroqui’.
It’s no surprise, given the themes of identity, that Ben’s penis emerges, so to speak, as a character in and of itself. We are introduced to an endless list of aesthetic metaphors for the before and after descriptions of ‘the star of the show’, each of these raising the stakes in terms of hilarity, absurdness, and disturbing mental imagery. I’ll never wear a French New Wave style turtleneck again. There is a sense that Ben is trying to both compensate for what he describes as the ‘Patriarchy Penis PR’ (They’re everywhere, what do you think this microphone is?), and men’s uncomfortableness with discussing anything health related, particularly in relation to their reproductive organs.
Even the ‘cocky’ Texan in the front row who is, thankfully, the only person to offer their hand when ‘all the people with penises in the room’ are asked if they have ever had positive feedback on their downstairs parts, struggled to elaborate any more than ‘erm, I just got told it was great you know’. Ben is a skilled enough performer that he high wire balances confidently between skilled performer & self-deprecating ‘man’.
The show is not only interested in the loss of a small physical part of oneself though. We are introduced properly to Ben’s parents throughout the show, and the final third of describes the change in relationship between father and son as their roles reverse during a long illness. The descriptions of his parents idiosyncrasies, Parkinsonism, and power tool proclivities are delivered with warmth and significant physical gusto. Finally we are treated to one of the funniest eulogies I’ve ever heard, involving militant vegans, amateur dramatics, and carcass smuggling. The show ends on a slightly surreal and metaphysical note, examining our relationships with objects, death & charity shops, and callbacks are expertly deployed here, as they are during all of the ‘darker’ sections, to leaven the tone and personalise the audience’s experience.
The storytelling is well structured, compelling, warm, wistful and funny, and delivered with nothing less than full physical and emotional commitment throughout. The punning itself is elevated to art form, and this means that while the overall tone of the show is more storytelling than straight stand-up, a smile is never far from the lips, and the mood and attention of the audience is held up throughout. A strong ‘theme’ show, with wit, wordplay, warmth and laughs aplenty, this is a solid hour spent with an engaging performer.
Ewan Law
themumble.uk 