It’s All A Bit of A Laugh, Right?: A Review of Open Theatre’s ‘Sweaty Clowns’
Jess Cooper receives a very special birthday invitation to review Sweaty Clowns with Open Theatre.
When Theatre Group announced that one half of their Edinburgh Fringe line-up for this summer would feature ‘Sweaty Clowns’, I hardly think anyone was surprised. A show that was proposed and scheduled to perform under Open Theatre at Leeds University Union, it had yet to debut in front of any audiences before the announcement had come out, and it had left me quietly curious at what magic the cast and crew had hidden inside the walls of Banham Theatre.
Despite not having seen a single sliver of a script beforehand, the lack of surprise at the news that Sam Dallamore-Hynd and Chris Louridas would be taking their self-described ‘miserable new comedy’ to the Royal Mile this summer can be chalked up to many factors: two heavy-weight names known for working together in the sketch comedy group Tealights at LUU, an incredible cast with some student theatre legends across comedy, musical theatre and drama and a production team composed of talented directors, producers and designers.
Like I say, no surprise, but I was interested to see what would be hiding behind the curtain, or in this case it might be better to say underneath the heavy clown make-up, that makes this show a spectacle worthy of the Fringe.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” An overtly cheerful clown greets us at the door with a programme designed like a child’s birthday invitation and a shiny party hat and it’s at this moment that I’m glad I don’t have a fear of clowns, or else I’d be in the wrong place. Immediately, I am struck by the playful grotesqueness of the costume and make-up design for our two ‘sweaty clowns’, who we will meet much later on; the look feels reminiscent of a court jester yet exudes exhaustion, with oversized layers, tulle and ties adding this melancholy to it all. An overanalysis of how their their titular clowns are outfitted is probably the last thing this team expected, but credit must be given here to the show’s designer Amelie Gopaul alongside producer Amelia Birt for instantly showing us an audience how this show will feel.
The staging for this show is simple, yet again incredibly telling. Another strength of an already powerfully funny story is how it’s setting and surroundings contrast some of its larger than life characters to add to the comedy. A whiteboard with a list of firm rules for our clowns to follow (accompanied with photographs of infamous clowns and a tally), the party company’s name sadly strung in coloured writing underneath it and party props galore forlorn across the stage all add to that melancholy that I mentioned before.
Contrast that with the performances and the characters we meet however, and everything all of a sudden feels incredibly vivid. With writer Sam Dallamore-Hynd taking the helm of his merry band of directors, which consist of Meg Critchley and Victor Edwards, it is clear from that jump that every detail and choice for each character has been meticulously decided, but never too forcefully controlled. We’ve already met our ‘sweaty clowns’ by the point the house lights go down and now it’s time to become formally introduced to Lulu (played by Emily Cavanagh) and Buffo (played by Jimmy Morgan).
This introduction is one that I would hate to ruin for anyone curious enough to follow the show’s journey to Edinburgh this summer and that’s the issue with reviewing this show. There are so many jokes and gags and moments that work so fantastically well because they work on the long-practiced artform of surprise. Let’s just say for now that by the time we properly see our ‘sweaty clowns’ in action, I’ve already had flashbacks to an age-old world where I too worked in children’s party entertainment and the depiction is scarily accurate.
Emily Cavanagh as Lulu is chaotic and forgetful, whilst Jimmy Morgan’s Buffo is childlishy sarcastic and committed, following through with every routine especially when it necessarily doesn’t go to plan. This stark contrast, which continues throughout the show, lends itself to some great moments; one joke I have to divulge here is Buffo asking all of the small children at the party to laugh at poor Lulu as they continue to fumble and make mistakes. As our clowns leave their personas behind and step back into the everyday people of Dylan and Morgan, we see two real performers trying to live out their dreams in whatever way possible, even if it is as a pair of clowns.
We also get meet the rest of the humble team, because why stop at clowns? There is Toby Bowen’s manic Magic Andy who adores his job as a party entertainer almost as much as he adores his rabbit, and the Manager, who is played by Jake Message and seemingly fluctuates between having a nervous breakdown and desperately appealing to the changing youth at every moment. Again, another dynamic duo who provide conflict to our clowns. When they discover that Magic Andy is more popular with children (perhaps because of his impeccable taste in The Chainsmokers), chaos ensues as Dylan and Morgan fight to keep the art of clowning alive. Magic Andy is sheer pandemonium in and of himself, which is coupled quite nicely with some of the Manager’s more sincere and serious moments.
Having such an interesting mix of unique and distinct characters, all of which feel so individually vivid and energetic, is rare in student-written theatre. Here, though, it feels part and parcel of this realistically humourous world that the writers have built with their script, and allows all of the actors to shine in their respective roles. With a tight runtime and small cast (often expected with student shows off to Fringe), not a single line feels wasted, every character has their own comical attributes but no-one feels one-dimensional, which is a difficult feat to have pulled off.
What makes Sweaty Clowns feel so distinct is the laughs often come from the most unexpected moments. Like I said, this show works on the art of surprise fantastically well. However, much like the titular characters, I can’t help but feel that this show too spends most of the time performing as something that is not. This is not at all a criticism, instead an appraisal of this script’s Trojan Horse like ability to masquerade as a comedy.
Yes, I laughed. So did everybody else. Yet, I didn’t leave the theatre thinking about specific jokes or gags. What I remember the most about Sweaty Clowns is the story it tells about being a creative, about being hyper-fixated and obsessed with a career or a lifestyle that goes unappreciated or is simply unsustainable. Every character in this play, whether it is two bumbling clowns, or a magician madly in love with his rabbit, or a manager on the verge of a nervous breakdown, is at a different point of that journey and that obsession. It’s a message that hit home with me, and one that I imagine will hit home with many audience members this summer as the show takes on Fringe.
Sweaty Clowns will be showing in Surgeon’s Hall this summer across the 7th to the 18th August, and if you too are taking the journey up to the world’s most revered arts festival, I encourage you to grab a birthday invite, put on your best party clothes and catch the newest iteration of this show whilst you can. After all, it’s all a bit of a laugh, right?
Words by Jess Cooper