The Freudian Slip is a bright delight masquerading under the appearance of a profound look at the meaning of life, psychiatry, psychology, feminism, chap-ism, penis-envy, vagina-envy, breast envy, contraception, birth, drugs. Not much isn't touched on - or touched - in 55 minutes of a light romp through the world and its wrongs. The character names don't help, as Ego (Tracy Keeling as the very thin one in red tights) and Id (Philippa Tatham as the fractionally less thin one in cut-off-one-piece pyjama suit) aren't referred to by their names (just on the programme); and Dr Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) (Tim Downie)'s name is only briefly mentioned. His outrageous German accent, spats, and Gladstone bag give a clue, though. All of which might suggest skipping the possible text messages of the play and simply enjoying it. There's a lot to enjoy.

Thin Ego and more normal-sized Id scrabble on the floor between two low doors marked Out and In. They've been instructed by their unseen mother to keep father out at all costs. It could be a real father, an unpleasant one, or one unpleasant in mother's version; or a father's penis being excluded from what the two women call 'the hole' they're in. Thin Ego is bare apart from red tights cut just above the ankles, and towelling wrapped mummy-like as pants and bra. Her blonde-red hair is tied severely behind her head; her costume and body poses suggest tension and holding-back. Id is more relaxed in body size and the way she deports it, her dark hair parted to the side, her pink and green striped costume creased and pantomime-like. There's a tense bullying relationship from the thin one to the other. Id wants to eat, and escape. Ego keeps her imprisoned and starving. There are no doubt many layers of theoretical meaning in this, but it comes down to two women tense and angry with each other, and slightly mutually-protective. They are somewhere unknown, and there are threatening forces outside.

Into this bounds a man, a doctor, he says, in old-fashioned clothes (suit) and with a doctor's bag. The bag contains a red bra and towel nappy, which he puts on. He tantalises the impressionable cuddly-sized woman, and alienates the thin one. But things change. Can the Doctor escape castration-prone thin Ego? Can he give cuddly Id exactly what she wants? A cleverness of the play is that it works strongly on what is seen on the stage, and never mind the gobbledy-gook top-level meanings. It's colourful; there are lovely costumes (designer uncredited). It has a superbly-apt, mood-creating, sound-scape - effects, voice and music - from Alison Trower & David Tucker. Chloe Stephens directs with skill and cunning - keeping the complexity of the script's meaning in check and focusing on the visible play itself. The result has a good dollop of comedy, and evokes an easy atmosphere of enjoyment.

Tracy Keeling's script bounces along, with probably as many layers as a vanilla slice. There's not a topic (particulary the sexual ones) from analyses of the contemporary world missing, but the highly-enjoyable jousting between the characters keep possible tedium out of the way, and the socially serious stuff slips in - generally - under the radar. She creates a real place that doesn't exist, which is an epic use of theatre - perhaps the most perfect thing theatre can do. So it's fair to say this play actually gets to the essence of theatre, and once there, does something with it that's fun to become entangled with. The drama and tonight's traverse (audience in two halves facing each other, performance space between) staging heightens the feeling of cast and audience being in it all together.

Philippa Tatham is blissful as Id, giving Id an almost tangible appetite, a prettiness and and endearing presence, plus a tantrum-throwing ability familiar to anyone with a sister. There's complex script to deliver, and Philippa Tatham makes it sound easy and believeable, while athletically squeezing through low doors and singing - an elegant and gifted performance. Tim Downie delivers the doctor with relaxed and very funny comic delivery and a strong sense of the seriousness of the character beneath the buffoonery. And his buffoonery, subtly kept in check while appearing to be flowing free, is great. Tim Downie makes the character round and convincing - a real Freud in a crazy world, but with the suggestion that Freud's real world was crazy too. Tracy Keeling is graceful and lythe as athletic, sculptural Ego. Her lines are delivered with subtlety and there's a conviction in the characterisation that keeps cartooning in check. There's an flowing physicality in her performance which enhances the characterisation.

The title may be a distraction - The Freudian Slip sounds very glum and serious. But the play itself is - block your ears Dr Freud - lots of fun.

Cast Credits: (alpha order): Tim Downie - Sigmund Freud. Tracy Keeling - The Ego. Philippa Tatham - The Id.

Company Credits: Writer - Tracy Keeling. Director - Chloe Stephens. Sound / Original Music / Designed & Performed by - Alison Trower & David Tucker. Technical Operator - uncredited. Costume Designer - uncredited. Producer - Tracy Keeling. Company - Theatre Kit in association with The Rose Theatre Site (www.rosetheatre.org.uk). Thanks to: Tony Toller, Pepe, Suzanne & The Rose Theatre Trust, Harry Smart, Matt Harris, Mrs Keeling. References: Sigmund Freud, Buckcherry, Sinad Lohan, Laurie Anderson, Franz Kafka, Madonna, Shakespeare, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

END

John Park

reviewed Thursday 4 July 08 / Rose Theatre Bankside

Fringe Report (c) Fringe Report 2002-2012

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