James Freedman describes himself as “an honest thief”. He can pick more than a pocket or two, but he’s no Fagin. He takes it as a compliment that somebody described him as looking like a chartered accountant: he doesn’t want to stand out in the crowd. His klepto skills are so impressive that his hands are insured for a £1m, and during this show he’ll have you checking that your wallet is still in place. Apparently, those who really do have designs on your cash or credit cards like to linger by “Beware of pickpockets” signs because, as you read the sign, you will unconsciously pat the pocket where your wallet is hidden so signalling its location.
Freedman fools us with terrifying ease. He makes terrific use of his own observational and decoy skills and misdirection while playing cannily on our attention deficits. He manages our attention so we simply don’t notice what is happening around us. The parallels with what he does and what happens in the theatre, in which who and what we look at is constantly directed, is obvious.
So it’s a pity the show doesn’t make stronger use of a theatrical format. It’s entertaining enough and probably worked fine in more intimate spaces, but for all his feats Freedman lacks showmanship. Too often, this feels like an entertaining if alarming safety talk delivered by someone personable from the local Neighbourhood Watch.
Its earnestness was pointed up on press night by the guileless interventions from a woman invited on stage who pretty much stole the show from under Freedman’s nose. Freedman asks audiences not to give too much away, but he needs to be far more revealing of himself and offer more of a flourish to make this feel like less of a lecture and more of a performance.
- At Trafalgar Studios until 4 July. Box office: 0844 871 7615.
