Writer: Martyn Hodge
Director: Michael Abubakar
The title here refers to the soothing strategies involved in keeping a small, rowdy child in some sort of comfortable behaviour zone. It’s not perfect parenting, but it can work, albeit temporarily. It also serves as an oblique reference to the coping strategies we use as adults to deny our problems really exist.
Neatly, it’s a good reflection too of the massive chip on the shoulder of the man in this one-man piece, Steven, who carries with him the weight of violent generations and difficult economic conditions.
Set as a therapy session where Steven/Stevie evolves from denialist and disrespectful participant to someone more clearly broken and fearful, the short piece is formed around the portrayal of the memories the process brings up. We jump around his memory map of various times, places and people to piece together patterns of behaviour and their root causes.
He’s in denial about the true impact of his dad’s violent, anger-fuelled behaviour towards him and the extent to which he is mirroring those traits he seems to hate. There’s a smart internal tussle that explores whether his character is a product of nature or nurture – whether Steven’s little boy Charlie was almost pre-destined to suffer violence at the hands of his father, just as Steven did by his.
The writer and sole performer Martyn Hodge does this with a blend of brief episodes that clearly show the adorable, tender love and care Steven has for the boy and the challenges he has with Charlie’s bad behaviour. He brings in sections exploring Steven’s past, his attitude towards the social and financial inequality he sees in working-class Glasgow that he feels dominates his existence, thoughts on what it means to be a man and a wealth of other thoughtful and thought-provoking observations.
The musical interlude which features some choreographed playtime with children’s toys is odd to experience and feels out of place. However, it does an important job of giving us an emotional break before diving back into this tangled story.
It’s played in a black box stage with just a chair for company. Hodge’s words and performance are tied together with some light touch sound design, so well executed that Stevie’s traumatic story is amplified and jangles loudly even in the silences.
It’s a hard one to watch and experience. Though let’s be clear, it is hugely funny too. Hodge is an absorbing, mercurial performer with easy charm that invites us generously to this difficult character’s most intimate moments. Kept on pacy track and making great use of space under Michael Abubakar’s direction this 50-minute work, written as part of Hodge’s final year studies at Guildhall, is a tough watch that offers oversized rewards.
Reviewed on 14 August 2023
Camden Fringe runs until 27 August 2023
