The Ballad of Roger and Grace by Daniel Kitson

Not put off by Daniel Kitson the first time I saw him, with his fantastical flurry of speedy words and multiple characters in his production C90 at The Playhouse, I was drawn to see him again - this time in the more intimate environs of the downstairs Belvoir.

In his defence, the first time I saw him he was in a large auditorium and I was sat far away from the swift-speaking and intimate comedian. I felt he was inaccessible and cut off from his audience. Further, he had a few infamous mishaps in this run at The Playhouse, with talkers in the front rows, which he addressed very confrontationally within minutes of starting.

However, in the downstairs Belvoir theatre, he shone. Accompanied by his friend Gavin Osborn with guitar, they delivered intertwined, quirky love stories, filled with wonderful imagery: of Roger’s unquenchable desire to invent absurd and useful-only-to-him objects; and his need for communication with the other side of a river, which was once separated by a bridge but after local turmoil now a seemingly uncrossable stretch of water.

The character of Roger delivers his own love stories to a younger train compatriot, who spouts his own love foibles by singing his interior monologue. Osborn endearingly communicates young Charlie’s love-lost-won-and-lost-again story through innocent and folksy ballads, which evoke laughter, sympathy and sometimes tears.

This intimate venue also allows Kitson to chat easily with his audience and accentuates his comical, humble and spontaneous style which is a gift to be received. It also allows a more peaceful venue after his rush through traffic from The Factory Theatre in Marrickville where he is also performing a two-hour stand-up piece called The Impotent Fury of the Privileged.