Wasted (Y)ears

In this moving autobiographical monologue, an actor recounts a tale of triumph over adversity. Born hard of hearing, Tim Barlow was rendered stone deaf by the persistant gunfire which assaulted his ears over fifteen years of army service. This deeply personal story takes Barlow from 1940 through to 2007, charting his quest to become an actor against all odds. 

Now in his seventies, the now professional actor seeks recognition of his achievement, revelling in the story that accompanies his exceptional feat. Barlow is captivating; he addresses the audience, drawing them into the tale in the manner of a traditional storyteller, whilst simultaneously reenacting conversations between himself and others, often to comic effect.

But the account is not merely an enacted autobiography; it also provides a fascinating and frequently amusing insight into the condition of deafness. Hilarity ensues as he reveals the way in which people overcompensate for his disability, grotesquely distorting their faces in speech to facilitate lip-reading. Barlow's advice to potential hecklers: "You'll have to write down any complaints as I won't be able to hear a damn thing you say," also generates more than a few laughs. These comic moments, and Barlow's evident ability to laugh in the face of adversity, heightens the pathos of the more tragic points in the tale. In one particularly poignant scene, Barlow relives the frustration he felt at the theatre, unable to appreciate the performance because of his diminishing hearing.

It's a joy to watch Barlow revive his history; this is a show that leaves the audience with admiration not only for his acting skills, but with respect for his courage and perseverence. His is a simple story, well told.