The story itself is interesting, and the format gives it a certain intimacy. A single voice, a single perspective, can draw you in differently from a multi‑character piece. It becomes almost confessional, a guided walk through someone’s experience rather than a dramatic clash of viewpoints. That’s a strength in its own way. You’re not watching characters bounce off each other; you’re watching one person open a door and let you look in.
The room at Greenside was, unfortunately, working against the show — poorly ventilated, uncomfortably hot — and that’s no fault of the performer. In better conditions, I suspect the hour would have felt lighter, more fluid. Even so, he kept the audience with him, which says something about the quality of the performance.
If anything, the piece might benefit from being slightly shorter. Forty‑five minutes could give it a tighter shape, but even at an hour it remains thoughtful and well‑crafted. The writing is good — genuinely good — and while the single‑perspective format naturally limits the kind of dynamism you get from dialogue, it still offers a clear, engaging narrative.
One thing that stood out was the audience: overwhelmingly male. Perhaps the title nudges it that way, but there’s nothing in the material that should restrict its appeal. Women would find plenty here to connect with — the vulnerability, the unusual framing, the personal nature of the story. It’s absolutely something I’d recommend more widely.
It’s a strong, intriguing piece of solo theatre. Well performed, well written, and worth seeing.
Reviewed by Pat Harrington
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