Edinburgh Fringe hit comes to London

Jordan Brookes had to suffer through a dismal Titanic musical - now it’s our turn.

No one would ever accuse the unsettling comedian of being predictable, but, even so, his foray into musical theatre with an extravaganza about the infamous maritime disaster is an unexpected one. 

Until he actually starts, that is, and you realise he never intended to go through with that premise – save for a few super-brief extracts of what could be a surprisingly serviceable project – firm in the belief that musicals are ‘smug’.

Instead, the liner’s fate is but a backdrop for Brookes’s typically knotty musings on what it is to be alive. Thoughts  that are not always comfortable, but incisive, questioning – and frequently funny in their bleakness.

The Soho Theatre version of Fontanelle, expanded and rejigged since its Edinburgh Fringe premiere last August,  starts with a montage in which the word ‘Titanic’ is repeated so much as to be meaningless. The clear suggestion is that the same has happened to the actual tragedy: that we’ve heard so much about it we’re now inured to the human cost. In contrast, we haven’t got to that point 9/11 – and to prove it, Brookes’s jokes on the Al Qaeda attacks get precisely the pullback he expects. 

But when and were does ‘too soon’ apply? It turns out  people were commodifying the Titanic’s sinking almost as soon as it happened, so Brookes is following a precedent, however unedifying.  Several times during the show Brookes says something like  ‘some of you are going to hate this,’ several times, signifying his complex love-hate relationship with the crowd.

One moment he’s overly concerned about how the audience (and, yes, critics) are responding, the next being reckless as to whether he’s being entertaining or not. He certainly likes to push viewers out of their comfort zone, especially when sexual references tip from the stupidly puerile to the grubbily graphic. When he defiantly repeats a segment and says ‘this time you are going to enjoy it’, it’s an intimidation, not a promise.

You have to take the rough with the smooth in any Brookes show, but being challenged is a big part of the appeal of his artistically audacious ambitions, even if no one would call it relaxing. 

Reinforcing that, he raises a lot of questions without offering glib answers. What does the ‘women and children first’ philosophy say about masculinity? Is being considered noble to go down with the sinking ship like ‘brave boys’ really healthy?

He offers ruminations on hubris, extrapolated from the idea of an ‘unsinkable’ vessel, as well as intense reflections on his own midlife crisis, too, as he comes to terms with the notion that strikes everyone, that he might not be a singular voice-of-a-generation genius (though he has better claim to that status than most) but equally rebelling against a passive nihilism, shouting from the sidelines.

Maybe that realisation is why he’s working with others on this, and he’s sometimes joined on stage by the cast of the ‘musical’, which includes comics Eddy Hare and Rosalie Minnitt, and Jake Roche who wrote the songs – or what little of them we hear.

There’s a lot going on in Fontenelle. Brookes’s throwaway lines are deeper than a lot of comedian’s five-minute routines, but he doesn’t want to show enough conviction to follow through  – uncertainly being vital to his tricksy shtick – so moves briskly on to something else, maybe to return later.

Some of his thoughts have dark undertones about the futility of life, with depression lurking behind many a punchline and grim comments about the ‘hollowness in every man’s eyes’, littering the piece . He’s taking the ‘funny because it’s true’ premise to extremes, both in the funny and the true.

Softening the edges is his ridiculous presentation. He performs wearing a jaunty, minuscule sailor’s hat and in a shirt that’s two sizes too small. And there’s a floppy physicality to the whole performance, from using his pipe-cleaner limbs to lower himself gingerly on to a tiny stool to restlessly lolloping around the stage, often lying down restlessly as if he’s at a sleepover

Eventually, in the strongest stand-up chunk of the 75 minutes, we get to the titular fontanelle, the soft spot on a baby's head where the skull bones are not yet fused together.  Brookes graphically imagines this extending into adulthood, a spot that exposes ultimate vulnerability but can be freeing and exhilarating to tease. What better metaphor for Brooke’s work could you want in a show that’s full of such allegories? 

A dumb half-completed musical has no right to be so intellectually provocative.  

• Jordan Brookes: Fontanelle (Definitely A Musical) is at Soho Theatre until March 1

Review date: 19 Feb 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Soho Theatre