Dumbstruck

The 52-hertz whale has been described as the world’s loneliest whale species, the only one to call across the Earth's vast oceans at a pitch far higher than its fellow mammals. What better way, then, to counteract that theme than with raucous music and a story of social activism and rebellion? Fine Chisel are more known for this angle to their work—memorably their annual Shakespearean knees-up—but here present a more serious and studied piece.

Ted (Robin McLoughlin) is a PhD professor, preaching the intricacies of musical cadence and nuance to wide-eyed students. Meanwhile he traces the movements of the 52-hertz whale, recording and replaying its curious, bawling cries, himself battling against a deep forlornness. His passion for music clearly inspires Fiona (Holly Beasley-Garrigan), however, who launches a pirate radio station where thumping 50s nostalgia music is blasted across the airwaves with political secrets and ideologies spouted.

This is where the show’s heart lies. The lonely whale analogy is a quirky backstory but is hardly worth fastening to the core of Dumbstruck’s narrative. Instead, when we descend into the cave where Vox Radio is illegally broadcast, there’s an unruly liberation that’s utterly seductive. Each member of the cast switches between instruments—guitars, drums, saxophones, clarinets all up for grabs—to mash a rollicking gig with heartfelt drama. The insanely talented Carolyn Goodwin outshines them all with slots on a range of woodwind instruments, and there’s a feeling that if they made underground music the central (and only) focus, this show could be far livelier and more engaging.