“A literal blast from start to finish: weird, witty and wonderfully real in all the right ways.”
The pre-show warning for The Ticking promises “foul language, loud noises, and extreme stupidity” – and it delivers with infectious energy and hilarious absurdity. What begins as a chaotic, hungover attempt to piece together the remnants of a night out becomes altogether more absurd, funny, and occasionally profound.
The show opens with a bang – or rather, a mysterious, ominously ticking briefcase – and never loses momentum. The ensemble, all nursing brutal hangovers, scramble to work out what happened the night before. The setup feels instantly familiar: not in detail (most of us haven’t handled a bomb post-night-out), but in vibe. I was transported back to countless mornings at university spent rehashing nights that are a blur at best.
The script is packed with sharp one-liners, physical gags, and cultural touchstones that land excellently with the target audience. I’m not sure Gen Z will clock the Potter Puppet Pals shoutout (of course) quite as enthusiastically as I did, but it was a nostalgic delight.
The cast is a tight ensemble, with particularly standout performances from Aaron Barrow and Jack Cavendish, who played Mike and Hugo respectively – they are both consistently hilarious and incredibly watchable. These are characters we all recognise – everyone’s met a Mike, a Hugo, a Jay, and a Connor – and that relatability adds to the fun.
What really stands out is how well the show balances absurdity with authenticity. Underneath the ticking bomb and rising panic is a thoughtful (and very funny) exploration of friendship, class, and the tangled way that we, as humans, assign blame. It’s no small feat to make a potential bomb threat hilarious – but somehow that ends up being one of the least dramatic things going on.
The script is packed with clever moments of reflection that never drag down the pace or undercut the comedy. The staging makes brilliant use of The Drayton Arms’ intimate space, transforming the stage entirely with just simple set design and prop work.
It’s a tightly structured play – which makes the sudden turn into climate commentary feel slightly off-key. The recurring Greta Thunberg jokes land with ease, but when the show pushes further into climate messaging, it starts to lose some of its earlier finesse. The exploration of class, responsibility, and the messiness of humanity feels far more grounded and effective.
Still, there’s something endearing about a show that’s willing to swing big. The Ticking knows exactly who it’s for, and leans into that with confidence and charm. It’s rare to find a play that’s genuinely laugh-out-loud funny while still tugging at something real.
I only wish we could have stayed in the mystery a little longer – the journey of trying to piece it all together was so much fun, I almost didn’t want it solved. It’s a rare thing to wish a mystery stayed unsolved, but that’s the feeling I was left with. The moment The Ticking starts to explain itself – particularly in its attempt to take its climate change message further – some of the magic deflates a little. There’s an admirable ambition to say something important, but the execution felt slightly muddled and almost over-explained. Still, the journey is undeniably entertaining.
If The Ticking had trusted its own mystery a little longer, resisted the urge to tidy everything up, and let us sit in the joyful confusion just a few beats more, it might have been something special. That said, as it stands it’s a blast (literally) from start to finish: weird, witty and wonderfully real in all the right ways.