Heart-warmingly recognisable to any daydreamer, Form is both a fun and melancholy look at the loneliness of the wandering mind.
Enjoyably lo-fi – and all the more relatable and versatile for this – Form is simple fun done well. Imaginary environments ranging from invisible staircases to ocean floors are superimposed on boring reality, with the disillusioned worker concocting more and more elaborate fantasies to draw his two colleagues into, extending them for as long as possible before the call of the office becomes too loud to ignore. Cardboard boxes, deployed efficiently and imaginatively, are the building blocks of this alternative reality; office stationery is used to great effect but the paper balls – the most original element of the show – are not employed to their full potential, rarely moving beyond substitutes for rain and snow. This is a shame considering the high levels of inventiveness displayed elsewhere in the project; however, the idea is there and has prospects for development in the future.
The simplicity of the fun is not to dismiss the choreography or the trio’s obvious skill: the movement is by turns impressively intricate and charmingly comic, and all three performers have good timing and physical control. The routines are particularly effective when refracted into several different tempos – the dreamer’s discontent is felt most keenly when he weaves in and out of his co-workers at about a quarter of their speed.
Heart-warmingly recognisable to any daydreamer, Form is both a fun and melancholy look at the loneliness of the wandering mind.
