unFRINGEd

At some point while watching the two ridiculously skilled women that make up Zoe And Penny’s Very Short Attention Span, my pen slipped into my lap and I stopped taking notes.

I was distracted, you see. I was there to write things about their words and movement, to dissect and analyse their patter and delivery. A point came, though, where I lost track of my cheap biro scribbles and instead became immersed. I’ll talk about that point later.

Into the slightly-too-small cosiness and swept wooden boards of the Newtown Theatre, Zoe and Penny brought a host of characters for our delight. Silly, funny and incisive, their sketches had a wide embrace for personas of the divine, the posturing, and the downright bizarre.

Their effortless banter pinged back and forth without a single moment of fear or favour. A strong bond and affinity clearly exists between the women, who as a result were able to mold something new and emergent from their distinctive wits.

They first strode out onto the stage as Bridget and Margaret, two nuns in charge of an orphanage. The nuns resembled pot-addled teenagers (“Are you stoned?” asked Bridget. “No…yes,” Margaret replied). Overly concerned with happenings on facebook and pulling apart dirty cliches, the nuns were fans of retorts such as “your face” and “random”. Their care of their charges culminates with a rap in which they incite the motherless orphans to embrace the truism that “minimalism can be fun!”.

Next we met the awkwardly over-confident inspirational speaker Julian who was teaching unrelated dialogue technique. The technique involved…well, basically what it sounds like – saying something utterly unrelated to the conversation as a way of moving it on. Julian’s terrible insecurities showed through as he swaggered across the stage, exaggerated poses causing him to nearly topple over and his anxiety delicately held under the gossamer-light bluster that overlaid them. “This is my seminar! No questions allowed!” he railed.

Perhaps most audibly appreciated by the audience was the final sketch that poked a mercilessly hot skewer of mockery into the hipster inhabitants of gentrified suburbs such as Newtown itself. Two indie divas took to the stage with their guitar, po-mo references, ray bans, floral skirts, stockings and ‘ironic’ headbands. Between songs they quoted Andy Warhol and reflected on their fame. Their songs were scattered with things I cringed at in known relation, but laughed aloud also in the kind of relief one can only have when you know you’re being lampooned and well, they’re right.

Best of all was their manifest desire for ‘buttloads of kittens’ and the po-faced rap concluding their final song “I wanna be famous but in a quirky way”. ‘Q is for the queers I accept,’ they sang. ‘R is for the racism I reject.’

The standout moment for me, however, was a sketch midway through. You know, that one I got all immersed in. It seemed straight forward enough – a fractious, fast paced and funny exchange between a girl at a bus stop and a slightly unbalanced young Scottish man in a beanie. We gradually become aware that he is homeless, a touch threatening, and has a mad love for Turkish Delight. She is defiant, rude, defensive and wants to get home without being bothered.

The sketch drew to a close with a moment of such startling humanity that I actually teared up. I shan’t spoil it here for those who may want to see it. But humour drops away in a heave and a blast and with such shattering tenderness that I was left wondering why I hadn’t seen it coming.

Zoe and Penny’s Very Short Attention Span is playing at the Newtown Theatre from September 12th to September 25th. Times vary.