FringeReview UK 2025
Jobsworth
Prentice Productions
Genre: Biographical Drama, Dark Comedy, Feminist Theatre, Fringe Theatre, Mainstream Theatre, New Writing, Short Plays, Solo Play, Theatre
Venue: Park Theatre 90, Finsbury Park
Festival: FringeReview UK
Low Down
Isley Lynn co-wrote Jobsworth with writer/actor Libby Rodliffe which premiered at Edinburgh’s Courthouse to acclaim in 2024. Jobsworth again directed by Nicky Allpress arrives at Park Theatre 90 till December 6.
A must-see one-person coffee-black comedy, it lasts a full 90 minutes. Libby Rodliffe is a phenomenal performer. And uproarious.
Review
Of her three bosses, one “has a gift for popping up when I’m already stressed, like a giant pus-ing whitehead.” Is that Bea’s life? A bit like Fleabag with Three Guvnors, this is IRL plate-spinning that finally crashes into glory. By then things might seem dark. With fireworks. Isley Lynn co-wrote Jobsworth with writer/actor Libby Rodliffe which premiered at Edinburgh’s Courthouse to acclaim in 2024. Jobsworth again directed by Nicky Allpress arrives at Park Theatre 90 till December 6.
Bea’s also called “Rodders” and though this mightn’t be autobiographical, it splices real stories with Rodliffe’s persona, mixed with Lynn’s equally super-taurine smartness. Lynn, known for the astounding The Swell at the Orange Tree in 2023, is unrecognizable here: it’s a genuine collaboration. Bea works for Gillian and Julian, married couple who run Cholmondeley & Karlsson Health & Legal Group, and that’s all you need to know about them. Except Julian’s having an affair with Miranda, Influencer residing at Bea’s other job space he’s not meant to know of.
Bea’s PA to Julian and Gillian sees Bea’s been crying. Not that she cares any more than entitled Ags daughter of billionaires, whose dodgily-built Fortuna Place Apartments are a flytrap for Russian oligarchs wanting penthouses (one complains it’s too high up!). “Why do you look like a fucking boiled sweet that’s been stuck under my sofa?” You can’t say Bea’s hogging the best lines. Though she does get them. Bea’s also dog-sitting after Parsley for rich travelling friend India, though also collects him from a kennels each night and crashes at India’s. Who heedlessly sends Bea birthday lilies: “Even I know they’re toxic to dogs.” And the one job that never lets Bea down: data inputting.
Rodliffe is a phenomenal performer of a cluster-F of voices she renders absolutely clear and individual. And uproarious. Above all she irradiates Bea’s “All this is fine, mostly fine,” as she flits sometimes pretending she’s working from home when zooming, when in fact she’s at another office; she even clears drains. And hears “why Terry from tech doesn’t like his son’s girlfriend because she wants the next bond to be a woman.” Despite the comedy, the hot intern Niall and all the goss around birthday blasts from friends calling her “slag”, she never sees her friends in her self-imposed exile of 18/7 jobbing. Above all, the fundamental sadness of family gnaws at Bea.
It even chases down her date with Niall, though swapping sob stories is bonding (even if Bea’s capacity to self-sabotage nearly ruins her date till an accident saves her). Why is she after all continually trying to contact her depressed father with his snakes, and snubbing her mother? The strands elide satisfyingly in a year’s flashback just before the unravelling, now fuelled with knowledge and the reason Bea’s grappling down so many jobs when she’s not even paying rent. Self-sabotage can even take the chimerical fantasy of duty.
Matthew Cassar’s simple white desk and swivel chair, and white paper light shades, pulse with Oliver McNally’s pastel or white lights that turn clubbing on occasion, or greenery, or plush interiors; with Matteo Depares’ sound.
A must-see one-person coffee-black comedy, it lasts a full 90 minutes. Bea’s a hyper-coping Millennial whose amped-up juggling only amplifies what’s there already for Millennials and Zoomers the country over. Damage and betrayal gnaw at Bea’s determination, and the comically-rendered crash-outs on the concierge desk one morning are quietly queried by the delivery man. It’s these moments of bleak lighting from within that the measure of Jobsworth. Which climaxes with such a burning of bridges and burn-offs generally that you cheer even as you wonder at the final image and what it brings. Bea by the end hasn’t solved what she wanted; but in a final connection of warmth, she might have got a little closer to solving herself.
Producer Rebecca Prentice for Prentice Productions, Prod LX Adam Scot, Stage Manager Holly Vallely, Press Chloe Nelkin Consulting, Accountant Alan Mackintosh, Photographer Harry Elletson
