Written and Performed by Ben Target

Directed by Adam Brace and Ben Target

Death is a more frequent topic at The Fringe than (perhaps) any other: especially with comedic solo shows. Side-stepping from their comedic backdrop into a more spoken-word form of theatre, the ripples of Target’s humour may no longer be solely resigned to stand-up, but it still has an integral part to play in this auto-biographical hour which opens up Ben Target’s time becoming and end-of-life carer for his adopted uncle.

We transition through time, both for storytelling’s sake and pacing, to hone closer on the relationship Target had with his uncle Lorenzo, an eccentric escapee from a less-than-traditional upbringing in Hong Kong, now living in London with the people who took him in and called him family. Lorenzo became a shelter and mentor for Target away from his less-than-stellar upbringing and implemented an appreciation for a way of life and thinking not associated with the West. But then Lorenzo got old.

The roles reversed, Target now finds himself the sole and primary carer for Lorenzo: bathing him, cleaning him, medicating him, and generally sorting out his affairs and messes – gradually fragmenting himself away from the pleasant memories, unable to see beyond the stains and screams. Much of the story is constructed in a storytelling manner, with Target making the bridge between audience and performer almost entirely void, offering them coffee, and welcoming them with a smile and gentleness.

Wrought sentimentality is almost removed, or rather, transitioned from the lamenting to a commitment to the clowning and earnest storytelling, and if anything, this clever tactic enables the audience to connect in a sharper manner to Target, the bitter pang of a (largely) loveless upbringing from key figures in his life makes the passing of Lorenzo sting all the more, we feel the agony deeper as it isn’t parcelled amidst misery for the run-time.

Shadow puppetry, carpentry, and a small-yet effective stage piece bring in an additional dimension: symbolic of Lorenzo’s architectural background and Target’s continuation of the passion. Reciprocation plays a significant in the show, from the pair learning from one another – to the absence of it, and the difficulties in demonstrating compassion to those who haven’t placed it within us, though it does come as a touch too heavy-handed by the conclusion of it all.

For a show so intrinsically linked with end-of-life care, Lorenzo brims with life and spontaneity. Tears are to be shed, not only in the life of Lorenzo but of the passing of the show’s original director – Soho Theatre’s Adam Brace, whose hand is visible throughout the show’s direction and construction: there’s no attempt here to shock in Lorenzo. Instead instil empathy, not only for the stories we tell when someone passes, but to start sharing them when they can hear you.