There’s anxiety as an onstage mannerism, and there’s anxiety as a mental health problem, and Mark Watson’s show Flaws attempts to bridge the gap. Watson has always been a neurotic performer – but his fretfulness, it transpires, isn’t confined to the stage. Flaws broaches his recent brush with alcoholism, brought on by – what exactly? Career drift? Early onset middle-age? Or just the daily challenge of being a human being? It’s a striking show, both bracing in its honesty and circumspect in how deep it’s prepared to dig.
It’s also immersive, in the sense that – unlike Simon Amstell, say, who addresses his neuroses with some detachment – Watson brings his nervous energy centre-stage, and envelops us in it. Hunched, fidgety and squeaky of voice, he renders his angst vivid and often funny, never more so than when re-staging the Thomas the Tank Engine party (think balloons, whistles and a bothersome PR woman) that first tipped him over the edge. But it’s also un-relaxing; I as often felt as on edge as amused.
The show is compelling in proportion to its intimacy. The stories in the first half, demonstrating Watson’s social inadequacy, are small beer: struggling to find the right change at the post office; clumsily snubbing a Big Issue seller. It’s palpably more exciting when, in Act 2, Watson touches on his drink problem, and its treatment – cue a great gag about having to gussy up one positive thought every day before breakfast. There’s also some opportunistic audience interaction – “You think you’ve seen everything, and then you see Barry Bum-bag” – which our host works to uproarious effect.
There are limits here to Watson’s self-exposure, and they’re too strict: it feels like there’s plenty left unsaid. But it’s a meaningful show that reaches for redemptive conclusions about how admirably most of us navigate that fraught journey from cradle to grave.
• Until 17 January. Box office: 01603 598598. Venue: Norwich Playhouse. Then touring.
