A quirky, heartwarming ride, full of tonnes charm, a bit of crazy, and quiet depth
In a world often spinning too fast, A Brief Case of Crazy offers something refreshing: a stripped-back, lovingly absurd story that manages to be deeply human. Staged at Riverside Studios, this delightful piece of physical theatre is part theatre, part clown, part love story, and part philosophical train ride through the unexpected intersections of loneliness and connection.
From the moment the lights go up, the chemistry between the three performers of the Skedaddle Theatre -Rowan Armitt-Brewster, Lennie Longworth and Samuel Cunningham—is completely electric. They move through the piece in total synchronicity, as if every beat, glance, and movement has been rehearsed not just for precision, but for joy. Their onstage connection sets the tone for a show that feeds on playfulness, tenderness, and pure physical skill.
The setup is deceptively simple: train platforms, repetitive announcements, and a briefcase. And yet within that mundanity, a whole world unfolds. There are hundreds of stories that might take place in a train station, but the show chooses to focus on one: a sweetly awkward, beautiful tale between Thomas, an introverted, geeky man, and Daisy, an exuberant, delightful girl. It is a relationship that grows before our eyes, one that made me think of The Fisher King, Robin Williams’ movie where real trauma births a kind of beautiful crazy.
Their story unfolds with almost wordless comedy (Thomas never speaks) carefully choreographed movement, and the kind of buffoonery that recalls the likes of Mr Bean or Charlie Chaplin. For me this was like witnessing an evolution of silent film humour into the 21st century, full of sharp timing, goofy charm, and unexpected depth.
And then there’s the briefcase: not just a prop, but almost a character in its own right. The title A Brief Case of Crazyplays cheekily with the idea that what will be on stage might be a case of madness, but what we find instead is a briefcase wanting to make this story happen.
The absurdity is layered: from a menacingly funny fly to a puppeteered seagull, to a surprisingly touching puppetry scene that had the audience quietly reflective. I was genuinely grateful for this emotional jolt. It added a layer of depth and vulnerability that gently offset the surrounding comedy. What unfolded felt like a story within a story within a story, a glimpse into Thomas’s past, the trauma of losing his parents, and perhaps the very roots of his quirks and hesitations. It was as we were leaving behind the outer world of train platforms and comic mishaps, and stepping into the soft, shadowy corridors of Thomas’s inner life. And in that moment, the show reminded us that even the lightest comedy can carry something profoundly human just beneath its surface.
The costume design was pitch perfect. Thomas in his perfectly awful vest, Daisy in her happy blend of granny chic, and Simon as the slick, overgroomed foil to their misfit charm (he even grooms himself twice on stage, with increasing panache). These small choices anchor the comedy in character, making even the silliest moments feel grounded.
There’s a wonderful rhythm to the show, built around the repetitions of train announcements, matching movements, and a kind of life choreography that mirrors the way routine is disrupted when love appears. The result is so cute, so simple, and so true—a story about people out of sync finding their own offbeat harmony.
If you’re looking for something to make you smile, laugh, and quietly feel something deep under the surface, don’t miss A Brief Case of Crazy. It’s a 75-minute burst of joy and physical storytelling, a beautiful reminder that sometimes, the best kind of crazy is the kind you fall into headfirst. Catch it before it leaves the station, on the 20th of April. You can find out more here.