LAUREL and Hardy. The Two Ronnies. Morecambe and Wise. Double acts are a tried and tested recipe. And, in I’ll always think of you that way at the Pleasance Theatre, female duo Mackenzie and McGuire prove it’s still a winner.
Described as “French and Saunders for the Facebook generation” after their success at last year’s Edinburgh Fringe, Octavia Mackenzie and Ashley McGuire perform a lively sitcom for the stage. Although the script is unoriginal at times, their slick comic timing and flawless acting cry out for a series.
The hour-long dialogue begins at the end, as the audience settles with Savannah, played by Mackenzie, stretched out in front of us, light from a stained-glass window dappling her forehead. From a flimsy lectern, Alison, played by McGuire, says her friend lived an energetic life, which she wants to share with us.
Suicide by cake
It’s a varied and funny production, meandering through the women’s friendship which starts at Sunnyside Rehabilitation Retreat. Alison’s here for depression after trying to commit suicide by gorging on cake; Savannah has heard voices since she was four. Although this pessimist and dreamer make an unlikely duo, their friendship provides stability while the rest of their lives become increasingly uncertain.
But the play takes some getting used to. The lectern is unnecessary and distracting, while Alison’s sporadic narration jars the play’s tempo and gives the performance an amateur air. And at first the jokes are uninspired – “What’s the name for an Eskimo?” “Inuit.” “No, I don’t know it” – and fail to tickle the audience.
“Sexually repressed Scot”
Yet when the two actresses play different characters along Savannah and Alison’s journey, showcasing their impressive acting repertoires, the audience thaws.
Mackenzie is particularly impressive as she morphs seamlessly from a wide-eyed bohemian to a crotch-thrusting rude boy then to a sexually repressed Scot. And despite a shaky start, the duo wins us over.
But the beginning has told us how it’s going to end. Alison’s tears at the lectern give way to a slap-stick film of their friendship which is projected onto the stage. It’s here that their differences are truly stark. And, it’s true: their similarities with French and Saunders are uncanny.
Although, with a flimsy set and uninspiring costumes, the evening was unpolished, the performances were strong, putting this double act on the map.
3 stars
