Created and Performed by Jack Hunter

Performed as a solo show, after Hunter’s twin-sister Bec refused to take part in a two-hander, One of Two is an autobiographical take (with some added sci-fi to entice the room) on a comedic drama about a pair of twins as they grow up with cerebral palsy. From womb to high school, university to the stage right this moment, Hunter’s piece utilises an array of performance techniques to offer an insight into her and his sister’s life: sketch-based moments, stand-up, and plenty of articulate and well-constructed spoken word elements.

The battle against a world stacked against you is already a tough ask, but the war beneath the surface is what One of Two threads between the humorous events and sibling squabbles. Because not only are the schools, bullies, and councils raising an eyebrow of faux-sympathy and belittlement: so too is Jack’s psyche. Whizzing us across his early years of school, the niggle of the schoolyard bully comes in tandem with a new voice – a familiar, rasping, and mechanical voice in the form of a manifestation of Sam’s anxieties: Darth Vader.

And though the inclusion of Vader’s fitting representation of the self-conscious concerns Hunter has growing up (the Sith lord is, after all, one of the first disabled characters many children will encounter) offers delightfully self-deprecating moments, the frequency of the use and science-fiction references may lose some audiences who don’t know their Midi-chlorian from Mandalorian.

The significant appeal and talent of One of Two is Hunter’s performance and presence, which slips itself neatly between seasoned stand-up and open poetry slam. Hunter has an immediate and strong aura for performance, ensuring the pacing of the piece doesn’t slow. Armed with a trusty screen to offer home videos and stills, Hunter turns the TedTalk format into something palatable and gradually remarkably sharp and insightful. It’s brutally honest – opening up to the audience, many of whom likely only have second-hand information on what it’s like to grow up with a disability, to be removed from classes for additional support. But Hunter’s accessible production ensures no one is left behind.

Gradually, the societal pressures and stagnating attitudes veer more towards Bec, and One of Two takes a dip into the ‘Two’ element of its title as Bec becomes the focus, and Jack’s guilt with not being there for his sister emerges in a touching, concise and well-paced manner. The pair have a unique sibling bond, but even as twins growing up with the same condition – their lives have been through different paths and trials. There’s a steady hand guiding audiences through the gradual narrative changes from Jack’s life to Bec’s and rounds into the gross inequalities many with disabilities face and how schools, councils, and opinions seem to be cemented in making sure they merely survive and not thrive with opportunity. Culminating in a rounded-off, and neatly parcelled production which though boasts of not being brave or bold, achieves its intentions clearly: One of Two is remarkably grounded, eloquently forthcoming, and accessible.

It isn’t brave or bold in the grand scheme. One of Two is remarkably ordinary. And that’s the beauty of Hunter’s performance and construction: taking two lives and transitioning the trials, struggles, successes, and celebrations into an audience. Inspiration may not be guaranteed, but an earnest use of comedy and storytelling is. One of Two takes the autobiographical format of performance and opens it up to crowds to see that every life shouldn’t just be surviving, they should be encouraged to thrive.