JADAR

★★★★★

Fall down the portal-rabbit-hole with Tom Bass as he unpacks his turbulent relationship with his father through skilled clowning and hilarious physical comedy.

Blip (A Work in Progress) is performed by Tom Bass, directed by Ren Roberts, and produced by Brit Seaton. Bass and Roberts of Spiral Theatre join forces to create Blip, a fresh and exciting clown and physical comedy piece exploring Tom’s relationship with his father and his connection with his memories—past, present, and imagined.

Although not explicitly a product of the Manchester-based company Spiral Theatre, the pair previously worked as part of the collective, which aims to bring together all members of the community and local theatre makers in free, accessible spaces to create without the pressure of an end goal. This really appealed to me as a theatre maker myself, as there often seems to be an expectation of what’s next—Fringe, submitting to competitions, festivals, etc. It’s refreshing to see a company that is open to all, with the simple goal of creating without the pressure of desired results.

But back to Blip. The intimate Contact Theatre Space 0 is awash in fuchsia light, bathing Tom in pink as he enters the room and steps onto the stage. The intimacy of the space lends itself to the piece, drawing focus to Tom’s physicality and facial expressions as he navigates his distant relationship with his father. Our closeness allows us to catch every twitch, expression, or subtle eye movement that Bass and Roberts craft together.

Bass multi-roles primarily as himself and his father, hunching over, furrowing his brows, and nearly crossing his eyes to emulate his paternal role. These multi-roling sections are very considered, giving us enough space to clearly distinguish the jumps between characters, with Tom often leaping across the stage to transform into his dad and then back again to himself. Bass’s performance is absorbing and fascinating—every physical decision he and Roberts have made feels precise and intentional.

Tom is shut down by his father when he asks to stay with him over the summer. Rejected and defeated, he imagines a portal that allows him to visit his father as a kinder man—the one he remembers from childhood. Represented by a beautiful blue and green glow, the portal is accompanied by a metronomic electronic beat that Tom moves to as he falls down the gateway. The bright, smooth colours across the stage were incredibly immersive and absorbing, topped off by the excellent sound design by Tom Bass. Bass’s score is bright and energetic, perfectly complementing his clown performance and animated physicality; the original music transports us into Tom’s visions.

Initially hilarious and playful, the piece gradually darkens as we feel Tom’s heartache and dejection from work and his personal life. Although he reaches out to his father in memories, we hear in a phone call that he has given up trying to connect in real life. Despite this, Blip ends on a lighter, albeit abrupt, note, suggesting a potential reconnection between father and son alongside the arrival of spring.

As a work-in-progress piece, Bass and Roberts are self-assured as makers and have quickly found their footing with Blip, creating a strong piece of clowning and physical theatre that is not only incredibly engaging and comical but also deeply emotional and sincere.