66A Church Road: A Lament, Made of Memories and Kept In Suitcases, by Daniel Kitson

Review by Tom Hackett | 17 Aug 2008

It’s increasingly difficult to describe Daniel Kitson simply as a comedian. His stand-up work has beco more philosophical and emotional in recent years, performed with the intention of moving his audience and making them think as much as making them laugh. In addition, his "story shows," which he has been performing in more traditional theatre settings since 2003, allow him a further outlet for his less explicitly comic material.

The latest of these, 66a Church Road, is a eulogy to a place that Kitson once loved: a rather rickety old flat in Crystal Palace, London, which he has recently moved out of after renting it for six years. Kitson’s dream was to buy this imperfect haven and make it his own, with a record shop on the ground floor, a tiny cinema in the basement and the smell of freshly baked buns wafting down from his living space upstairs.

Alas, a combination of indifference from his business-minded landlord and Kitson’s complete lack of any practical nous meant the plan never came to fruition. But Kitson has made an art of turning his personal failures into artistic statements, and he’s turned this one into a swooning meditation on the nature of home and of loss.

Kitson sits centre-stage amid old battered suitcases, taking us through the story and occasionally opening one of the cases up to reveal a window frame, a street scene or a beautifully rendered, dolls house-style interior. The monologue is punctuated by recorded vignettes recounting some of his most treasured memories of the flat. Some of these are almost unbearably poignant, whilst others are as hilariously self-effacing of the best of Kitson’s stand-up.

The tone tends occasionally towards the excessively sentimental. Kitson’s obsession with the minutiae of his every memory and experience is what gives the show its intimate atmosphere, but it does risk becoming a little precious and cloying. There’s little time to dwell on this reservation though, as the rhythm of his excellently written prose and the balancing effect of his finely-tuned wit, propel the show forward through a thoroughly enjoyable and thought-provoking hour.