Stoopud Fucken Animals is very fucken impressive. Joel Horwood is an exciting new theatrical voice, and he is served impeccably by a remarkably talented cast. Having not been entirely convinced by his debut, Mikey The Pikey, I have now been provided with clarity: Horwood is one to watch.
Brothers Charlie and Dim reside in the wilds of Suffolk. Charlie is a purveyor of bull semen (though most certainly does not wank the bulls), while Dim tours the local area on his trusty bicycle, rearranging Monster Munch in vending machines. Charlie wants to escape, so changes his name by deed poll to Charles Bronson and heads off to London, apparently bearing nothing more than a toaster. Dim doesnt want him to leave, and the moments following this act are some of the most poignant Ive seen on-stage.
The introduction of a dark family secret turns the play on its head. It is transformed from a story of escape, ambition and regret, to one about the bonds that keep us together. Darkly funny, and eventually redemptive, these Stoopud Fucken Animals tear strips off each other, threaten each other with violence and eventually realise that without staying true to those we love we are nothing.
Carl Prekopp, as Charlie, is an endlessly threatening presence, and the stage lights up whenever he walks onto it. As his brother, Dim, Joe Arkley is impossibly tender, and displays emotional dexterity far beyond his years. Robert Goodale as Lefty, Wendy Nottingham as Karen, and Nicola Harrison as Belle provide excellent support to Prekopp and Arkleys complex double act. This is a masterclass in portraying raw, real emotion.
As I stood to applaud, I carefully noted each of the actors faces. They, along with Joel Horwood, are on their way to bigger things. And I, for one, want to be there when they do them.
One final note, to those reviewers who have clearly missed this shows beauty: open your fucken eyes and spy the burgeoning talent.