A joyous reverie for humanity, The Rest of Our Lives liberates the audience from the mundanity of life.
Jo Fong is a dancer and George Orange is a clown. In The Rest of Our Lives, the two’s performative superpowers converge to create a piece of cathartic joy. The two perform an homage to middle life with unbridled silliness and intensity, bedecked with music, props, and great physical exertion. It is hard to surmise exactly what The Rest of Our Lives is, and that is, in a way, the point. To describe it in exact details would detract from the experience – it is truly a piece that is worth attending entirely void of speculation. The piece features Jo and George in perfect collaboration, moving through different stages of the rest of our collective lives from the perspective of two artists in what would be described as ‘mid-life.’ Battersea Arts Centre’s sprawling space is made intimate by the specificity of their performances, and the acuteness of their attention to the audience. They are armed with two chairs, a table housing their musical equipment, and a handful of other props that are best kept secret. Jo and George propel themselves through the show by means of music, interspersing their dance and movement sequences with a spattering of dialogue and delectable self-awareness.
The experience is wholly silly and unpredictable in the absolute best way it could be. It is impossible not to invest wholeheartedly in the experience as an audience member, not because you are forced to, but because you want to. It is impulsive and eccentric, and Jo and George are everything and anything you can imagine them to be. The piece exudes optimism and joy and courage and excitement. In a world that can so easily feel bleak, The Rest of Our Lives gives us a chance to be unbridled in our eccentricities. When we think the remainder of our lives, specifically beyond the years of midlife, we mostly consider the best of our years to be over. The Rest of Our Lives challenges this; why can’t we be endlessly electrifying and impractical? Why can’t we perform 80 minutes of impeccable spontaneity?
The doom and gloom of being human can weigh heavy on the heart. Jo and George honour everything beautiful about humanity in this piece. They encourage us, without saying anything, to look upon our fellow audience members, our fellow human beings, and appreciate the wonderful things we are capable of. A celebration of people, The Rest of Our Lives engenders pure thrill, literally leaving the audience dancing onstage together.