BATS Theatre, The Propeller Stage, 1 Kent Tce, Wellington
26/06/2018 - 30/06/2018
Motormouthed fretting, nagging heartbreak and a very sexy duck.
GIDDY is an effervescent nightmare comedy that asks: Am I doomed? Is it too late? Am I a wild animal? Should somebody just put me down?
The latest treat/disaster from charming worry Leon Wadham (Milky Bits, handsome, amazing eyes) and directed by Jade Eriksen, GIDDY was a hit at the Auckland leg of the NZ International Comedy Festival and comes to BATS direct from a return season at the Basement Theatre. Find out more here.
“An ecstatic delight… something special.”– Nathan Joe, Theatre Scenes
“Leon Wadham is stand out of the night” – Matt Baker, Theatre Scenes
BATS Theatre The Propeller Stage
26 – 30 June 2018
Full Price $22
Concession Price $16
Group 6+ $15
The Propeller Stage is fully wheelchair accessible; please contact the BATS Box Office by 4.30pm on the show day if you have accessibility requirements so that the appropriate arrangements can be made. Read more about accessibility at BATS.
Review by John Smythe 27th Jun 2018
You know when someone goes to show you something on their device and they get side-tracked by other images – lots and lots of other images – and quickly flip through them telling you about them really fast as they head for what was it again and does it matter because what we’re seeing and hearing about is really captivating anyway even if it does leave you feeling giddy. Well Giddy is a bit like that. Except for all its apparent randomness it does achieve coherence.
Self-confessed ‘motormouth’ Leon Wadham, whose every word is nevertheless intelligible, describes his solo show – played out in a bare space but with impactful sound and lighting (I’m told Michael Trigg is at the desk for this) – as “an effervescent nightmare comedy”. (Pause) Yep. (Pause) I’ll pay that as he leaps on ever on to the next experience and you know what that is exactly what makes it so incredibly dramatic: it’s all experiential.
The rhythm and flow of his discursive narrative – I think we can call it that – plays out as verbal and physical poetry, rich in imagery, subjective observations and responses, spontaneous thoughts, captured concepts, explored ideas … Comparison in some respects with Eddie Izzard could be valid but really Leon Wadham is his own force of nature.
Wherever he takes us – and the places are many – to share in his everyday traumas, dilemmas or barely describable states of being (who knew Bunnings Warehouse could be so … oooh), his physicality is a master class in Laban movement. His stillness is as eloquent as his actions. He likewise traverses a full vocal range. And emotions. Who knew just one word (‘John’ as it happens) could evoke such loss.
All this is achieved with seemingly effortless panache. Barefoot. In black jeans and a loose blue t-shirt and a boyish face and innocent eyes that belie the places he’s been the things he has seen and the thoughts that have coursed through his brain.
Enough of my attempts to capture the tone and flavour of Giddy. It’s an astonishing show you could only possibly experience live in a theatre. Not to be missed – if you can get a seat.
Copyright © belongs to the reviewer