Theatre Review

Walking through the dilapidated Walthamstow high street everything seems a little out of kilt, I jump out of the way of an old lady reading the paper and driving a mobility scooter, I'm asked for change by a man in a tuxedo waving a beer can. Seeing Buxton Road Bingo Hall I am immediately apprehensive at spending an uncomfortable hour in what looks like a wreck.

However inside I am struck by the beautiful shabbiness of a forgotten hall and the remnants of its inhabitants. With no theatre staff only baffled audience members to be seen I feel like a trespasser in someone else's space.

As the caller enters, stewards appear as if from another world. The people from my journey down the street are the characters entering the hall ready to play. You are told you must play along and I am surprised to see everyone eagerly with their eyes down for a full house.

Each number is randomly selected dictating different fragments of stories, allowing the audience to construct their own narrative. At times the stories felt wildly unrelated and I found myself desperately piecing together a narrative thread. One Fat Lady a story of one man's quest to remember, uniquely and coherently puts the audience in the position of the very person it is about. As the Bingo Caller tries to assemble his stories, we find ourselves putting one together.

The piece then beautifully and irreverently grows into a variety show of sorts. As numbers and their tales repeat they get grander. I find myself once again lost but incredibly entertained in an unfamiliar world. Hearing eyes down again we play our final game, looking down I realise that we all have a copy of the scri pt, every line marked down on our lucky numbers.

One Fat Lady is a delightful and poignant look at missed chances and lucky breaks, asking what it means whilst revelling in the thrill of the game.