For unashamed ridiculousness, effortless hilarity, find Charlie Vero-Martin.
Surrealist character comedy, puppets, endless laughs and a dark twist. Pull out your gingham blanket, and don’t forget your matching outfit, it’s time to have a picnic with Charlie Vero-Martin.
The effervescent Vero-Martin is working the crowd on entry, inviting Soho Theatre attendees to ‘sniff her sausage’ (a real pork Chorizo, from my assessment from toward the back of the theatre), to share a Cadbury chocolate finger and to have a listen to the crunch of a baguette. We have been invited to a picnic, or a mobile banquet, as the fancy Victorians used to call it.
Under the guidance of Vero-Martin’s hosting we are introduced to an assembly of wacky, wonderful, and downright weird characters right off the bat. Marina the German (or possibly Swedish) marine biologist teaches us about the housing crisis through hermit crabs and reminds us that the only really sustainable diet is cannibalism. A forthright pinecone talks about his distinguished ancestry that has protected antique seats in national trusts sites across the country. The cloaked and sinister gate-keeper, making you feel bad about any hobby or general interest. Persephone, a crystal peddling spiritual guide, thinly veils a sinister plot for slave labour. To name just a few.
It’s pure madness, absurdity, and excellence all rolled into one tight 60 minutes on Soho Theatres’ upstairs space. At all times the audience are right-on board with Vero-Martin’s every move, never swaying even during the silliest moments. The puppetry is perfectly complementary to the absurd characters, and never overbearing. Vero-Martin’s swift outfit changes into simple but effective costumes are facilitated by the mute but scene stealing Daniella the assistant, giving the show a delightful and compelling pace.
The only limitation to Vero-Martin’s work is the audience’s thirst for more during certain gags, a desire that remains unquenched. A particular instance of Sims based roleplay (yes, the sexy kind) only just begins to draw sizeable laughs from the delighted audience before the show swiftly diverts to the next wonderful character.
As we head to the climax, audience members strap in for what they think will be the inevitable volta of many a comedy set that includes the comic relating their deep dark trauma and explaining how it has shaped the show they have just seen. But in a genius turn, Vero-Martin traverses her personal problems with the same levels of unabashed ridiculous and undeniable humour, it is so effortless swallowed down and feels seamless. A particular gag regarding a trip to the health clinic had me almost in tears (not the sad kind).