Created & Performed by Frankie Thompson

Directed by Evie Fehilly

Review by Marina Funcasta

Soho Theatre

Frankie Thompson collects a very specific selection of Horrible Things in this Soho Theatre run of her Fringe hit. A confronting clown show, there is no reticence in Thompson’s evocation of our deepest nightmares – which of course emerge in the ghost form of a nine-year-old Jacob Reese Mog, Christopher Hitchens, Frank Sinatra, Cliff Richards and a Victorian governess.

Thompson clearly has a good understanding of British Culture: its iconic figures, lip-syncing, but most importantly, its pitfalls. This is where the brilliance of this show lies. There are countless moments when, caught in cacophonous laughter, the audience suddenly registers something deeply troubling in the words of these all-too familiar men. The giggles abruptly give way to a ripple of “oh my gods”, followed by a brief but paralysing silence.

These moments disappear as quickly as they are born. Even if this is precisely the show’s intention, to gesture towards a darker history that we have somehow never quite managed to leave behind. And yet, the point is made with such subtlety that I fear its political anchor becomes all too easy to sweep under the carpet – or indeed into the space between the rocking chair and the park bench.

Are these moments of comedic relief necessary when dealing with such dangerous subject matter? Maybe. Although, having watched the show on the same day this show on the same day that the investigations into David Walliams were released, I found it difficult to hear her comedy as entirely inconsequential. Thomspon is highly aware of what she is targeting with this performance, and though it reads as satire, the collection of her horrible things feel painfully pertinent. Perhaps what will stay with most is not the figures we laugh at, but how the voices we listen to and the histories we turn into entertainment are still haunting is – and maybe it is time to let go.

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