Trygve Wakenshaw is a thespian equivalent of a one-man band
In this stripped-down show, one of New Zealand's most talented clowns makes magic out of nothing, alone in his spotlight, tights and singlet. Trygve Wakenshaw - a 3m beanpole sprouting a shock of blond cockatoo hair - holds our attention for 80 minutes using only short skits.
This is quite a feat; the lack of overarching narrative makes for a thin show but his physical and almost-wordless vocal prowess makes it an amusing one. The thespian equivalent of a one-man band, Wakenshaw becomes a Loony Tunes-style animation come to life, complete with knockout crowns of tweeting birds and enthusiastic leg kicks.
He takes off stand-up comedy and sends up cartoon baddies. He impersonates a singer and imitates a chicken. He mimes a magician (and his "appearing" rabbit). The animal impressions are particularly impressive, although the spinning wheel comes a close second. If you squint, it is possible there may be subtle disapproval of our inconsistent relationship with animals here, but more likely it's just revelry in the ridiculousness of life.
The gags are running - and of course they bleed into each other (sometimes literally. Well, pretend literally). Wakenshaw plays charades and makes knock-knock jokes and leaps and bounds - all at the same time. One has to be on one's own toes to keep up with all the invisible props. Yet it's not exhausting to watch; instead, Wakenshaw's gleeful naif persona is endearing, and his stock of grins - delighted, shy, smug - is limitless.
