'SHELL' at TOY TOWN THEATRE
- Editor
- Apr 19, 2024
- 2 min read
Updated: Jan 13
THEATRE REVIEW: SHELL by CHARL COCONUT
I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING THAT’S IMPRESSED ME BUT YES I AM ONCE AGAIN AT THE THEATRE, this time for SHELL by violent ex-loony CHARL COCONUT and yet when I enter the auditorium absolutely none of the assembled get to their feet and applaud. I do not even hear such a whisper as – OMG THAT’S ROGER CLIMB-DOWN ST PETERS THE FEARED THEATRE CRITIC nor do any of the Company approach thinking OMG I’M TREMBLING, WHAT’S HE GOING TO WRITE ABOUT ME? I'm accosted instead by a mournful piano piece as my programme notes inform me thus – 'SHELL is a monologue performed by a single actor comprising three acts throughout which there will be no escape from the truths that will be spoken.'
No escape for the audience.
No escape for the actor.
I immediately get a bottle of wine from the bar and some peanuts.
The play begins.
A BALD MAN starts telling the story of a life spent hating violence. It isn’t his life. He bloody loves violence. Can’t get enough of it. So he labels the other man who's story he’d begun a ‘wimp’ and commences his own tale of a life spent dishing out violence to ‘anyone wot started’ in the hellish sounding pubs and nightclubs that passed for entertainment at a time when fighting was 86% more prevalent due to his presence.
The BALD MAN was completely un-troubled by the 651 people he battered to a pulp until the 652nd person he brutalised nearly died and his mental and physical health buckled and he finally asked himself “Who’s fault is it?” At this point a choir of monks appear from the wings chanting “OUT! OUT! OUT!” and we are herded from the theatre onto a waiting bus which embarks upon a tour of the town. With the bald man as guide, the bus pauses outside buildings that trigger memories. As the BALD MAN silently gestures, the Monks hand out headphones – allowing us the option of listening to a series of circular vignettes detailing trauma that has reduced BALD MAN to a shell.
A man is nearly dead.
Who's fault is it?
His schoolteacher who failed to provoke in him a passion for language and learning?
The chip-shop proprietor who told him if he wanted to start fights he should do it somewhere else because he had a family to provide for and a business to run?
His pervy Uncle and his doom laden conversational cul de sacs?
Is it you?
Back onstage at the theatre, the BALD MAN answers – he knows who’s to blame but is going to leave it open ended as he wants us to go away and think about it.
I stagger for the exit, past the theatre producers assembled outside in case any of us have had a painful experience in life they can turn into a theatrical monologue just like SHELL –
One man.
One voice.
No hair.
No jokes.
No escape.
Joyless.
SHELL is on now at Toy Town Theatre. Saturday's probably the best day to come.
ROGER CLIMB-DOWN ST PETERS
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