The Fooligan

39658 original

“There was once a great story-teller...” and his name is Al Seed. Dressed in a fatsuit thrice his usual boney size, tattered coattails and breeches, Seed holds his one-man show in smooth control, waltzing us through the self-reflective myths of a legendary storyteller. The audience sits rapt with attention as Seed impersonates a vain king or a crass and disenchanted “fool and hooligan,” weaving together themes of memory and death to create a grotesque Beckettian narrative.

Seed may be an expert in physical theatre, but his episodes of miming are certainly the weakest points of the show. Though his face is a dashboard for contortions and his voice comes in an amazing variety of pitches, Seed's movements are too frantic and fast-paced for the audience to follow. He breaks up his magical stories with interludes of a lonely mime artist, yet they fail as comic relief. It's his vivid imagery, rather than his silent contortions, that earn Seed the laughs in the show, such as the description of “children ripping at their parents' ankles” to get within hailing distance of the legendary story-teller.

Seed's act is well supported with sparse but judicious use of lighting and sound while fog hovers on stage, cloaking his macabre figure in even more mystery. Three storytellers meet their death in various ways, ultimately testifying to the power of words. Words told by Seed in a soft and insidious voice that mesmerizes his listeners — thankfully not to death.