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FringeReview UK 2024

Algorithms

Sadie Clark, Laura Elmes – Wild Park Entertainment

Genre: Comedy, Fringe Theatre, LGBTQ+ Theatre, Live Music, Mainstream Theatre, Solo Play, Theatre

Venue: Park Theatre

Festival:


Low Down

“I felt I was too much and not enough at the same time.” Sadie Clark puts these words into the mouth of Brooke, but quotes them of herself. Brooke has it all: the job on a dating app, flat, girlfriend.

But turning 30 everything she says “goes tits up”. Welcome to the revival of Algorithms: first performed at Soho Theatre in 2019 and 2020, and Edinburgh Fringe it comes now newly-revised to the Park Theatre performed by Clark and directed by Madelaine Moore till May 11th.

A bisexual Fleabag for 2024? It’s more than that, its heart less brittle, guilt and heartbreak warmer and more relatable than that devastating Catholic-dipped masterpiece. A place to take friends to in its 65-minute immersion. You’ll feel cheered, touched, ready for whatever the evening throws back at you.

 

Written and performed by Sadie Clark, Directed by Madelaine Moore, Producer Laura Elmes – Wild Park Entertainment, Lighting Design Jennifer Rose, Composer; Sound Design Nicola T Chang, Dramaturgs Jules Hayworth & Mollie Naylor, Stage Manager /Show Operator Josephine Shipp.

Till May 11th

Review

“I felt I was too much and not enough at the same time.” Sadie Clark puts these words into the mouth of Brooke, but quotes them of herself. Brooke has it all: the job on a dating app, flat, girlfriend.

But turning 30 everything she says “goes tits up”. Welcome to the revival of Algorithms: first performed at Soho Theatre in 2019 and 2020, and Edinburgh Fringe it comes now newly-revised to the Park Theatre performed by Clark and directed by Madelaine Moore till May 11th.

Brooke though armed with a maths degree in fact distrusts algorithms and app-dating which is a bit tragic since that’s her job. Her story starts when her mother phones to tell her her bum’s all over social media: accidental release.

Mean American boss Katya’s on the case, colleague Gareth has smirked at her but reports “harassment”. What the actual…? Not that the love of her life Amira’s that sympathetic either. And soon – despite Brooke’s very explicit reveries involving a turmeric stain – she’s gone.

Brooke finds she has no close friends, no girlfriend or boyfriend – she’s bisexual – perhaps no job eventually. And her mother’s no help. Worst of it all her 30th coincides with her parents Ruby Wedding and she’s expected to shine and fit into a size 14. When she’s feeling (well you supply whatever expletive you like, Brooke will top it). And there’s that damp patch. Not in the bed, the ceiling. Best not ignore it.

Katya demands a whole presentation from Brooke on their firm’s dating apps using Brooke’s own experience! Which she finally scrambles to catch up with, using her own scoring mechanism: has to be over 90%.

So the scene’s set for a predictably disastrous over-thinking over-anxious smart-but-out-of-synch world we all know to a degree. Wait for a first immersion in cocaine (purely by accident, looking for Charlie, Brooke’s like that, why not?); the perfect lover, the out-of-control 30th birthday/parental bash ending in the woods. The inundation.

There’s touches of amused pathos throughout. Brooke’s  Pre-Pitch will the in the Albatross Room. “Named after animals that mate for life. That was my idea.” An albatross it certainly becomes, just one, as Brooke’s presentation hangs round her neck and plunges her like lead into the sea.

Clark’s poignantly funny about Brooke in truth suffering from depression. The life lived for others, pleasing others, trying to second-guess. It’s not so much Bridget Jones as a bridge too far and Brooke’s fallen in.

Clark’s highly engaging, full of improv. getting audience members to zip and unzip that unfeasible baby-blue dress as she cheerfully changes clothes as she talks – a clothes rail and a seat loaded with t-shirts her only props.

Clark’s fluidity allows her an unabashed connection; and exaltation when talking of star-spangled orgasms, high on cocaine for the first time; or just plain drunk. The Park Studio space resounds with the confidence of one who only a few years ago was on the brink of giving up.

There’s no set bar a tinsel backdrop and a few boxes. Nicola T Chang’s sound-synching is outstanding and is in effect the design: with  a musical accompaniment and shifting lights from Jennifer Rose.

Algorithms has been subtly updated, and there’s encouragement from Clark to continually update when performing. A bisexual Fleabag for 2024? It’s more than that, its heart less brittle, guilt and heartbreak warmer and more relatable than that devastating Catholic-dipped masterpiece. A place to take friends to in its 65-minute immersion. You’ll feel cheered, touched, ready for whatever the evening throws back at you.

Clark’s a gifted writer/performer: witty, truthful, unabashed in her squirm-inducing vulnerability. The next Clark will be worth trekking for.

Published