“Lorna Rose Treen dazzles in this exciting fever-dream”
Take your seat at The Bluetit Diner – “named after the time I slammed my breast in the fridge” – sit back, embrace the chaos and meet some of its regular patrons. A young girl is giddy at her first ever kiss, an inept private investigator wallows in nostalgia, and a truck driver has ridiculously long arms. In a rapid-fire mix of comedic styles, 24-Hour Diner People is an anarchic hour of joke-packed character comedy that’s an immense amount of fun.
Treen’s last show, Skin Pigeon, spearheaded the recent resurgence of sketch comedy in the UK. Its refreshing mix of unpredictable absurdism and genuine sense of fun won both critical plaudits – including Chortle’s Best Alternative Act 2024 – and multiple sell-out runs in Edinburgh and Soho. It’s a tough act to follow, but the same magic is undoubtedly captured in 24-Hour Diner People. If Skin Pigeon was her breakout show, then this is Treen strutting confidently around the stage showing just how brilliant she is.
It’s certainly an ambitious undertaking, with Treen zipping in and out of costume. At one point, she plays both halves of a robber holding up a waitress to steal the diner’s tip jar, with a partially inflated sex doll taking the place of whichever character Treen isn’t currently embodying. It’s very funny, and very silly, but underpinned by real intelligence. 24-Hour Diner People’s dense mix of puns, audience interaction, physical gurning and running gags combine into a show that feels unique to the room, leaving the audience grateful to have seen the chaos unfold. There are even satirical jabs thrown in for good measure, including a deliciously naughty zinger about the assassination of Charlie Kirk.
Whilst not every moment lands – there’s an overly long dance break to polite chuckles, the private investigator gets fewer laughs than most, and some transitions fall a little flat – the script is so joke-dense that you’re only ever a few moments from another genuine laugh. This is helped by an irresistible momentum: the diner is a coherent backdrop for a mesmerising array of characters, culminating in a satisfying costume-changing finale, tied together with an overarching narrative about a bad review from The Sun newspaper. Accused of killing comedy, Treen jokes she’s now written a “sort-of” play to kill theatre too.
Leaving the Soho Theatre after 24-Hour Diner People’s hour of anarchy, you’re left wondering what exactly you’ve just witnessed – in the best possible way. This is an off-the-wall, intelligently surreal car crash of a show, confirming Lorna Rose Treen as one of the most exciting character comics on the circuit.