A Brief Case of Crazy

A Brief Case of Crazy, tells the story of a remarkable and unconventional introvert, Thomas, who has a conventional office job. His days are punctuated by his fleeting encounters with equally shy, wide-eyed colleague, Daisy. Thomas’ quest for love must contend with a boisterous boss named Simon, his own excruciating insecurities, and a rather bothersome briefcase that drags him through an extraordinary series of events. Will Thomas’ search for love come to a dead-end, or will he discover it’s what’s inside that counts?

This production brings a fresh yet familiar energy to the stage, maintaining the heart of its previous iteration while embracing some new creative choices. From direction to design, choreography to puppetry, there's a lot to admire—even if a few of the newer elements slightly disrupt the momentum. Overall, it's a tightly executed piece with moments of real emotional depth and consistently strong comedic timing, showcasing the incredible skill in physical theatre and storytelling.

The direction by Rowan Armitt-Brewster is commendable and displays a confident vision for the piece. The pacing, for the most part, feels intentional and fluid, guiding the audience clearly through the show's shifts in tone. However, there are a couple of moments where the direction feels slightly at odds with itself. These moments aren't significant enough to derail the experience but do create brief instances of dissonance that momentarily pull the viewer out of the world being built onstage. The overall structure remains effective, and the director's sense of timing – especially in balancing humour and pathos – is impressive.

The choreography is undoubtedly one of the standout features of the production. It is fast-paced, intricate, and executed with remarkable precision. The cast handles physically demanding sequences with ease, never missing a beat or a step. The movement is not only technically sharp but also thematically resonant, amplifying the emotional undertones of key moments and injecting energy into the narrative at all the right points. The coordination and discipline required to pull off such challenging choreography are evident, and it adds a dynamic visual rhythm that keeps the audience thoroughly engaged.

The lighting design is generally effective and supports the atmosphere well, though there are a few scenes where greater clarity would have helped accentuate specific dramatic beats or transitions. On the other hand, the sound design is excellent. Volume levels are perfectly balanced – loud enough to be impactful without overwhelming – and the inclusion of new music is a welcome touch. These musical additions complement the existing soundscape nicely and contribute to the show's modern, cohesive aesthetic. The audio cues are sharp, and transitions between scenes are smooth, helping to maintain the production's brisk pace.

The set is minimal, consisting primarily of three chairs and a briefcase as the audience enters the space. This sparse design is practical and symbolic, allowing for rapid scene changes and giving the performers room to express the story physically. Throughout the performance, the set shifts primarily between this opening arrangement and a more detailed office environment. While not elaborate, the simplicity of the set enables a focus on character dynamics and physical storytelling rather than relying on visual spectacle. It's a clever use of space that leaves much to the imagination without ever feeling underdeveloped.

The narrative remains essentially the same as its earlier Fringe version, though several noticeable changes have been introduced. Some of these work better than others. For instance, the revised opening is functional but lacks the punch and momentum of the original. Moments, where these characters interrupt the story's flow, come across as slightly jarring, disrupting the immersive quality that the rest of the play works hard to build. These interruptions tend to break the rhythm more than enhance it.

Additionally, the inclusion of new semi-recurring characters brings some variety to the show but doesn't significantly enhance the story. These characters feel more like decorative additions rather than essential components. That said, the most effective and emotionally impactful change is the introduction of young Thomas in puppet form. This addition adds unexpected emotional weight to the show and offers insight into Thomas's backstory, helping the audience understand and empathise with him on a much deeper level. It's a beautifully executed moment that elevates the narrative and gives it a more profound emotional core. And is guaranteed to make you cry.

The puppetry throughout the show is highly effective and remains one of its most charming elements. The decision to retain the beloved seagull puppet is a wise one – these moments are consistently funny and provide much-needed levity at well-timed intervals. The puppeteering itself is skilful, with precise attention to detail and personality in each movement. However, the standout in this department is undoubtedly the new puppet Thomas introduced later in the show. These puppets are made wonderfully and look beautiful.

In conclusion, this production succeeds on multiple levels. Despite the rare missteps, it remains a compelling and expertly performed piece of theatre. The choreography is exceptional, the puppetry is delightful, and the emotional core of the story – especially with the addition of young Thomas – is more resonant than ever before. The final scenes are a true showcase of comedic and physical storytelling, bringing the piece to a close with energy, heart, and impeccable timing. It's a testament to the talent and creativity of the entire team and proof that sometimes, all you really need is a few chairs, a briefcase, and a brilliantly told story.