
In a nightclub somewhere between provincial anonymity and mythic suburban folklore, a cloakroom attendant sits quietly, reading. The phone rings. He doesn’t answer. The world will find him soon enough.
Watching the cloakroom gives him time to reflect, if only the constant cavalcade of patrons would give him a chance. These include a girl who doesn’t have the confidence to speak to a Greek Adonis and now laments the loss of her imaginary beautiful Mediterranean children, a man with a habit of losing his shoes, yuppies, a lonely girl who never had a best friend, an abandoned woman, there are Stag and Hen parties (who have booked a stripper but mistakenly get a Louis Theroux impersonator).
It’s a small town where everybody knows his name, or at least that he is “Danny’s brother’s boy”, and that there is a cloud hanging over him, a taint of tragedy. And that he sang “Bridge Over Troubled Water" at a recital and looks a bit like Jesus. Oh, and that “F*ck, you’re tall!”.
Each wants to share, he’s part reluctant confidant, part confessor to the tipsy and the broken hearted. And for the most part he can dispense some minor wisdom, a platitude or perhaps a line by Winnie the Pooh. Unfortunately, these seemingly throw-away comments appear to sometimes have far reaching consequences. The loosest of threads can be pulled until things start to unravel. A situation that the faux Theroux starts narrating. For their part they guess that he may be bored of this liminal place but in reality, it might be a refuge.
It’s been a rough night. These people are characters in life - he sees them, and they move on. But for him it’s hard to move on and he is left dangling like a piece of thread.
The show consists mainly of sketches, and while some are more successful than others, they are performed with zeal and some great comic timing.
It’s a breezy, comical little meditation into how connections matter, and while the thread of the skits only knit into the overarching story in the loosest of ways, it manages to resolve them into a yarn which is ultimately more meaningful and moving.
Show Times: 1 – 12 (not 10) August 2025 at 5.15pm.
Tickets: £10 (£7).
Suitability: 14+ (Note – Show contains distressing or potentially triggering themes including references to mental health and alcohol).