Tim Clare's Death Drive

Talented performance poets/live literati talking about going back to live with their parents is all the rage this year. That is, if a ‘rage’ can be constituted by two shows, the excellent piece by Ross Sutherland at the Underbelly, and here in the shape of his fellow Aisle 16er, Tim Clare. Death Drive starts off with him recalling the moment when, all suicidally depressed, he forced his dad to take up a challenge and attempted to off the pair of them. But dads being what they are (generally rubbish and embarrassing) the plan failed miserably.

From there, we get a heartfelt and wildly entertaining hour pinned in by the mantra that ‘time is longer than hope’ as we hear of Clare’s terrible teenage years in search of enlightenment and his ‘manic pixie dream girl’. Even better than his ability to rhyme ‘flabby/stabby/Punjabi’ with guile and conviction, is Clare’s belief in the ‘performance’ aspect of his job. He pulls his body across the stage fuelled by all manner of contorted gestures and dramatic tics, pushing his fragile frame into physical and emotional spots that give a deep resonance to the glorious words he speaks. Ending with a rip-roaring interpretation of ‘My Favourite Things’, Tim Clare is surely now on a road to somewhere.

Zoo Roxy, 662 6892, until 29 Aug, 7pm, £6.50–£7.50 (£6–£7).