A young man goes for a walk down a canal path and stumbles across a rotting canal boat covered in moss. An accident? Or was something drawing him towards that moment? Maybe it was a sound he didn’t realise he was hearing, because a partly exposed speaker on the deck is emitting music. Curious, the young man follows the example of Goldilocks and boards the boat unbidden. At first, he thinks the vessel, which is stuffed with old tapes, records and CDs, is deserted; then he realises he is not alone.
The music is being played by an emaciated, twisted man who appears to be centuries old, an obsessive DJ who calls himself Radioman. Intrigued, the young man keeps returning to the boat, bringing Radioman food and drink. As the bloom starts to return to the old man’s cheeks and his limbs uncoil, the younger man is increasingly invested in keeping the beat going.
Felix Trench’s story always engages and has a ticklish premise at its heart. It neatly mixes the everyday and the surreal, the banal and the creepy to good effect. But, despite Anna Driftmier’s design, which conjures the boat, the stars and the entire cosmos with pleasing simplicity, Tom Crowley’s production never persuades that this is a story that demands to be staged rather than read or listened to on the radio.
The latter might be the script’s most comfortable medium, and would demand a far more imaginative use of sound than is delivered here, despite the presence of the sound operator on stage. Trench also performs, and over-enunciation and a lack of directness in his delivery means that he doesn’t always serve his own script to best advantage. It’s a pity because the final section is quite magical as it suggests that someone must keep the music playing to drown out the silence.
• At the Old Red Lion, London, until 30 April. Box office: 0844-412 4307.
