Blip is charming in its simplicity, telling the story of a father, a son, and a mysterious portal in a mirror. Partly inspired by leading man Tom Bass's own experiences, we follow his character through memories and awkward interactions as he attempts to reconnect with an emotionally distant parent. Their relationship is like a fist bump meeting a handshake - well-intentioned, but never quite in sync. This dynamic makes for a funny and recognisable pairing, and Bass plays both roles with striking physicality, shifting seamlessly from hunched, aging father to withdrawn son.
Gently tragic and tentatively hopeful, Blip is a special show telling a small, poignant story
Through conversations about gardening, football, and Doctor Who, Blip explores the loneliness of adulthood and the aching need to connect with a parent doing their best but struggling to express emotion. Bass brings a subtlety to his performance that makes the hour utterly absorbing. Small shifts in movement or expression carry the audience from humorous to surreal to sad and back again. The inherent silliness of clowning paired with the vulnerability of his character is a magical combination. The most cartoonish moments come from childhood memories - perhaps a nod to our tendency to romanticise early happiness to shield ourselves from adult understanding.
Bass and director Ren Roberts have crafted the show thoughtfully for an intimate space, distinguishing between reality and imagination through rich red, green and blue lighting, and underscoring it all with beautiful original music.
Overall, Blip treads lightly on its subject matter, using small, well-observed moments to illuminate the deeper emotional waves between father and son. While this gentle tone is one of its strengths, a touch more turbulence or emotional layering might have made the show's slightly abrupt ending land with more impact
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Gently tragic and tentatively hopeful, Blip is a special piece of theatre - an imaginative, poignant tale told with heart and humour.
