The bog roll projector screen was novel. Sellotaped to the faux-brick wall behind the stage, it looked ready to be blasted away by Colin Chadwick’s wordy wit. He gave us a friendly introduction to his Luddite-esque polemic against the evils of the internet, before bravely firing away, slandering technology and websites we make use of every day.
The bearded Irishman onstage riffed and rambled amicably, showing few nerves for a dude on his debut.
As a Facebookophobe, his tack tickled my fancy. I tend to agree with Colin that RIP messages on Twitter don’t quite communicate the same grief as a heartfelt teary splurge of emotion. Online chat doesn’t allow for red-face and fast heart-rate reading. ‘Liking’ is just less likeable online.
The bearded Irishman onstage riffed and rambled amicably, showing few nerves for a dude on his debut. The sketch on free paper Lonely Hearts ads stood out, and Colin made much of the few flirty words of each ad. From the man ‘seeking female’ to the woman seeking ‘paranormal’ male (in her local area only), we were given a run through the oddities of wishful words of wooing.
At times, Colin stood in front of the projector whilst pointing to it, which meant that the audience had to use their imagination. However, the hand-picked images from the internet, whilst ironic, were well-chosen. The show had a casual yet clever flair. Colin was very good at misdirection jokes, masterfully pulling the rug from under us at opportune moments.
This was a gritty, witty run through of the evils of the internet. The ironic twist: without the world of online words, this show would have been as empty as Jane Austen’s external hard-drive.
