The Receipt
| 14 Aug 2006
A receipt for coffee is the ultimate symbol of modern pointlessness but for Wiley it becomes something to make sense of and something to hold on to. Wiley works for a company in a city. The audience has a fair idea which city it is ("Glondon") but even Wiley doesn't know what his company does. We find out about Wiley from Will Adamsdale (Perrier winner in 2004 for Jackson's Way) who plays the part and narrates with the help of musician Chris Branch. Although they talk directly to us, our narrators are in the future and the action they describe is our present – the world as we know it. They are archaeologizing this great city – now lost – attempting to understand its customs and the lives of the people who lived in it.
It's a very sweet and clever conceit because it allows us to look at our own existence from another, imagined perspective but it only works because Branch and Adamsdale avoid lecturing or moralizing in favour of showing one man and his story. Their relationship – both as joint narrators and the characters in Wiley's world – is charming and funny. While Branch sits with a filing cabinet, a Moog and a mac, performing brilliant sound effects, and filling in the other roles, Adamsdale takes the compromised narrator and collapses him beautifully into the character of Wiley, creating an extraordinary focus for the feeling of alienation that this play wants to describe. The Receipt is always witty and astute but the overwhelming tone evolves from levity and satire to sadness and loneliness as the audience is invited more thoroughly into Wiley's world. Many plays at the Fringe are funny or moving or clever. Very few manage to cram all three into one hour. Book tickets now and throw away the receipt: you won't be needing it.
It's a very sweet and clever conceit because it allows us to look at our own existence from another, imagined perspective but it only works because Branch and Adamsdale avoid lecturing or moralizing in favour of showing one man and his story. Their relationship – both as joint narrators and the characters in Wiley's world – is charming and funny. While Branch sits with a filing cabinet, a Moog and a mac, performing brilliant sound effects, and filling in the other roles, Adamsdale takes the compromised narrator and collapses him beautifully into the character of Wiley, creating an extraordinary focus for the feeling of alienation that this play wants to describe. The Receipt is always witty and astute but the overwhelming tone evolves from levity and satire to sadness and loneliness as the audience is invited more thoroughly into Wiley's world. Many plays at the Fringe are funny or moving or clever. Very few manage to cram all three into one hour. Book tickets now and throw away the receipt: you won't be needing it.