Je Suis (A Fool’s Guide to Cliff Edges)
The beacons are lit and the cry has gone out. The mother’s legs are as wide and high as mountains. Here comes the child who will repel the invaders. Nigel Farage is born. And that’s not even the most surreal moment in this show.
Award-winning writer and performer Jonathan Brown returns to Brighton with an hour of comic mysticism – a trippy ramble through ideas about birth and death and British politicians that escalate and topple into each other.
Clutching a stick with a fox’s head carved into it, Brown is part jester, part cabbie. Wearing horns, he’s an off-kilter wild-man, who delights in interrupting his own flow to smirk and tip us off balance.
The high-beamed Exeter Street Hall is an apt setting for Brown’s nature-filled musings. They’re like elemental myths you might hear when huddled around a fire – as told by a clown with a glint in his eye.
His performance is hypnotically unpredictable, accompanied live by guitarist and musician Simon Scardanelli’s playful, folky squeal of strings and chattering instruments.
And yet the show never holds together long enough to fully suck you in, its energy lost in its ramshackle bagginess. But just peering over the dizzying edge of Brown’s sad, funny, mad world is still a rush.