Review: Stomp

Stomp

According to Wikipedia, Stomp is “a unique combination of percussion, movement and visual comedy,” and as a summary that pretty much covers it all. Good old Wiki.

My experience

I’d actually been wanting to see Stomp for months, based solely on the Tube posters that show a bloke with a dustbin lid leaping like an acrobat – it’s more impressive than it sounds, honest – but the thing that finally prompted me to get my act together and book the tickets was a visit from my brother. See, my weekends usually consist of alcohol, then some more alcohol, then, um, lots more alcohol. But now I would have a surly 15-year-old trailing around after me. For TWO WHOLE DAYS. And I sort of wanted to pretend to be a functioning adult and a positive, mature role model. So instead of getting in a few bottles of vodka and proposing an at-home piss-up, I decided that since the little bro is a drummer and a rebel without a cause, people crashing household objects around onstage would be ideal, and the premise simple enough for even him to follow.

We were early, and as the seats filled up around us it became more and more obvious that Stomp has one of the most wide-ranging appeals of probably any show currently playing. Audience members varied from children young enough to sit on their parents’ laps (despite the 8pm start) to grannies and grandads who looked like they’d come to the theatre straight from their hip replacement op.

The show started with a janitor. A guy. On stage. Sweeping. For five minutes or so, that was it, and just when I was wondering if Stomp was next door and we’d accidentally stumbled into some kind of cleaning convention instead –

Another guy appeared. And began to sweep.

Then another.

This went on until there were six people on stage, and I was starting to think I’d made a major mistake – the little bro was shifting restlessly next to me, and I was dreaming longingly of a quiet bar somewhere and inordinately expensive cocktails.

Then the stage exploded.

I had already assumed the crash position, and by the time I had unfurled myself and regained hearing in my right ear, it was apparent that the stage had not, in fact, exploded. Or at least, not literally.

The brooms had become instruments, tapping out a ferocious – and extremely loud – rhythm as the cast leapt and danced around them, flinging them wildly across the stage in a manner that I was sure would end in concussion within seconds. Somehow, everyone escaped with skulls intact, and segued flawlessly into another set of beats, this time on buckets.

Don’t expect to remember every moment of Stomp. There’s no plotline whatsoever, but in a show like this it doesn’t matter. At 100 minutes long and no interval, it’s the shortest runtime I’ve ever come across, and it feels even shorter. You’d think some people banging stuff around would get old pretty quickly, but the sheer energy vibrating off the stage, plus the series of increasingly weird everyday items used (a five-minute tune played entirely on lighters, anyone?), climaxing with the famous Dustbin Dance, kept us all enthralled. Stomp is intoxicating, a riot of noise and movement and joy, and I can’t recommend it enough, whether you’re eight or eighty. I emerged from the theatre bouncy and exhilarated, and even my adolescent male sibling managed a grunt of what I took to be approval – and anyone who knows a teenager knows that that’s praise indeed. Definitely one to see while you’re in town.

Directions

Stomp is shown in the Ambassadors Theatre, near Leicester Square or Covent Garden. From Generator hostel, take the Piccadilly Line to either station and you’re just a few minutes away.

Hot Tip

The theatre is directly opposite The Ivy restaurant, so if you want to feel like a London socialite for a night on a relatively reasonable price tag, head there afterwards – although be sure to make a reservation; The Ivy is ever-popular and books out quickly.

Why not check out some More London reviews ?