‘A festive TV show live onstage,” promise multimedia double act Mr Thing, and they’re qualified to deliver it: anarchic floorshows, performed as if for telly, have been Tom Clarkson and Owen Visser’s metier since establishing their fringe act eight years ago. Key to its cult status in Edinburgh, one suspects, is a late-night slot and a steady stream of comedian guests. Without either, this Christmas version, while never stinting on the anarchy and bright ideas, feels a bit more exposed.
That may strike you less if you’re one of those audience members (there are a lot of them about these days) for whom the spotlights are as comfy as the stalls. A half of the two-hour running time is taken up by audience participation, MC’d by try-hard Clarkson, as punters take to the stage to showcase random skills, perform the sound effects to an on-screen movie, or play leading man in a series of green-screen adventures. In fairness, I saw the show in a small crowd, which makes participation ickier and the kind of raucous Noel’s House Party jollity Mr Thing seek to invoke, in their primary-coloured suits, more of an effort.
On another night, it might all take wing. Tonight, a woman failing to levitate a Malteser, and another defaulting on her claim to ventriloquism prowess, make for thin entertainment gruel. Too many games trade on all-back-to-ours fun rather than wit, like the sound-effects stunt, or the DIY revival of The Generation Game’s conveyor-belt challenge. Elsewhere, idea outstrips execution, as when guests are invited to guess Christmas pop songs turned into dramatic dialogues by ChatGPT.
Narrative backbone is provided via video linkup with Mr Thing’s third member, Puppet Steve, warning that the child-snatching goat-ghoul of lore, Krampus, is on the loose and approaching London. Playful and well-crafted video sequences, spliced with the onstage action by Visser at his bank of computers, chart Krampus’s looming threat. A neat trick heralds the baddie’s final arrival – which then fritters into anti-climax. Fun for willing participants, perhaps; less so for onlookers.
At Seven Dials Playhouse, London, until 21 December