Rebecca Jones
It’s daring to give one man one hour in an intimate space left to entertain an audience with only a chair, a script and a parka coat for company, but Francis Tucker has bags of charisma on his side with plenty of likability to go with it. The monologue was fluid and through it Tucker speaks directly to the audience like we’re his mates in the pub, making it engaging and conversationally entertaining. Making up for the lack of Britpop, in part, though not entirely. I wanted tales of guitars and bars where your feet stick to the floor, with aggressive northern charm and observational humour. What I got was another iconic windfall of the 90s press and proof that no one lives forever: the death of Princess Diana.
Cleverly the 1997 accident is a way in to the story, a way of bringing everyone together in remembering where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news, a reminder of the time that our whole nation seemed drawn together in a state of shock. It is referenced repeatedly yet sparsely throughout, used as a catalyst for the main action. Seeing Tucker, an ex-DJ turned novelist struggling to break in his first novel, going to Kensington Palace to gather inspiration from Diana mourners and memorials and ending up picking-up an attractive, married woman of his very own. Arm in arm, and intertwined in every which way imaginable, they blur experiences with cocaine dreams and a desperation hazed vision of right and wrong. As he searches for his novel the novel finds him.
In the local pub this kind of tale would go down as legendary: at the Pleasance it’s a very enjoyable hour from which I left wanting more. I wanted the ‘Live Forever’ title to do its bit, perhaps through the use of classic Britpop tunes underlying the heated moments of action, or at least in more than a glimmering reference to Oasis, or Princess Di for that matter.
The writing captured the anger and confusion of that era, turning corners of calm reflection and frenetically charged action. Francis Tucker added personality and honesty to what was on the page. I left smiling, and very much onside with Tucker’s character. It avoided the popular pitfalls of one-man shows like the risk of the audience growing bored listening to the same person for a prolonged period of time, or the actor self-indulgently showing the range of his displayed emotions. Live Forever kept it’s feet on terra firma and in good humour.
Live Forever plays at Pleasance Courtyard until 25 August as part of the Edinburgh Fringe. For more information and tickets see the Edinburgh Fringe website.