Trevor Lock: Some Kind of Fool
Mischievous, circuitous, bumbling affair
This article is from 2009.
This Thunderbird lookalike doesn’t like to tell a story from A to B. He leads the crowd via the rest of the alphabet first, like an untethered helium balloon making its way through a labyrinth, bouncing off banana-eating monkeys and ‘wallets full of foreskins’ along the way. It’s a bumbling, bizarre, highly surreal set, and sometimes his wide-eyed innocence wearies the crowd into submission as he repeats the same gag 20 or 30 times, tweaking one or two words at a time.
Although his made-up back-stories about audience members are inspired, his circuitous approach grows tiring roughly halfway, when it’s apparent that a bit of structure would help rein in his random firings, and keep the crowd’s bamboozled attention in one place. But despite the daft, relentless detouring, when his jokes finally reach their destination (his ‘coconut shy’ girlfriend who was ‘more confident around peanuts’, or the idea of actually winning bread as the family breadwinner) it’s a charming, tongue-twisting tale from what seems like a compulsive liar, with a drug-taker’s visions and a five-year-old’s sense of mischief.
The GRV, 226 0000, until 30 Aug, 8pm, £5