This is a one man show about suicide, but with much wit and good humour and a blizzard of Shakespearean soliloquies you would hardly think it. Till later.
Unfolded on the floor are tattered maps of Britain, The World, Greater Manchester and the tiny village where James Rowland paddled in the river. Standing on or hovering over these, master storyteller Rowland unfolds himself, all hands and mouth and sparkling eyes, creased and tattered and a bit ragged at the edges but still intact. His purpose, by way of many a Bard quote is not just to lay out a road map of his own ‘little life’, sustained by chicken burgers, but also to make us seriously consider our own and the sometimes very tenuous line that tethers us all in place.
To be or not to be, is indeed the question, but it is one which society continues to side step as a ‘selfish secret’ according to Rowland. Whether it is Hamlet’s sage advice to Refrain Tonight, when In my heart there is a kind of fighting that will not let me sleep. Or, ..there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
The spotlight on suicide is real as Rowland, half way into the performance, leaves the stage to theatrically turn the house lights on, to pause the performance, hands up, to say in a heartfelt way, let’s discuss this…really.
It’s an interesting approach which few performers could hope to pull off, but Rowland with his thespian charm, beautiful delivery, and very personal story has the audience in his palm, leaning in and savouring his every word.
Nothing is clear cut in this interweaving tale, full of half finished sentences…. A dead father, a brother who is not really a brother, and Dick, a family friend who’s Falstafian presence looms large – but so much bigger than that.
In many ways this beautifully woven creation is a stable mate of Jonny Donahoe’s Every Brilliant Thing, both in its subject matter and in the heartfelt delivery of its creator. Don’t miss it.
Reviewer: Greg Holstead
Reviewed: 8th March 2025
North West End UK Rating: 4
Running time – 1hrs 10mins