Sarah Keyworth’s Lost Boy is very difficult to fully describe. Mainly because it is one of those shows that comes together at the very end even though at the start, their thoughts and jokes are very much like individual stars. Scattered, but come together in a rather grand and awe-inspiring way.
Lost Boy is very much the ‘life at the end of the funnel’
Taking us through their life through and post pandemic, Keyworth tells us about their plan to write a show with just the silliest jokes that they can think of and something about mangoes. Lost Boy is proof that Keyworth has managed to do just that. From pranks gone wrong to getting idioms wrong, Lost Boy at its heart is about Keyworth’s relationships with other people and the everyday little absurdities they possess.
Keyworth’s tone throughout the show is in one word, incredulous, and that incredulousness translates to a disbelief and joy that is contagious, completely lighting up the room. It’s hard not to see the world through Keyworth's eyes and wholeheartedly agree with their perceptions, to take their world as gospel on things like the types of people to wear white trousers or the roles of grandparents.
Personally, I didn’t expect to get emotional at a stand-up show of all places, but there is a moment where I genuinely thought that Keyworth may have driven me to tears. This does speak to Keyworth’s masterful craftsmanship, that they are able to induce such feelings of sadness and gravity before cheering us right up again.
Keyworth keeps us giggling beyond the joke, so that by the end we need to actively stop in order to come up for air. Keyworth calls this show their ode, and it is, we can feel that in the material, but there is an underlying joy, and Lost Boy is very much the ‘life at the end of the funnel’.