Daniel Kitson made his name as stand-up’s leading publicity-shy performer and he is now carving out a similarly enigmatic theatrical reputation, resisting self-promotion and simply delivering consistently compelling work.
His second solo piece at the National sees him cover familiar sentimental terrain in an audaciously different style. For 90 minutes Kitson does not speak, except via 46 pre-recorded tapes rotating in vintage players onstage. His melancholy monologue weaves together instances of love, loss and loneliness as a tale from the past featuring soulmates Thomas and Gertie collides with the contemporary yarn of yoghurt-eating Trudy. Their stories spool out as Kitson hits “on” buttons in sequence.
Homely northern accents evoke Alan Bennett, the reel-to-reels nod to Beckett’s Krapp. A looping narrative also touches on Kitson himself.
Family snaps flicker as he discusses his “oddly public solitude”, feeling isolated while bringing joy to others.
If there is a problem it is technical. Even in this relatively serious work the phraseology is often funny and laughs can obscure some lines. Despite this, Analog.Ue confirms Kitson is the real deal. Or make that the reel deal.
Until March 20 (020 7452 3000, nationaltheatre.org.uk)
